The Remittance Kid Part 3

'Who is it that's not in the theatre?' the detective asked, taking the cloak from the alcove.

'One of our small part players,' Vera supplied. 'He came in drunk tonight and I discharged him.'

'And you think he may have done this?' Ballinger suggested, returning with the cloak and indicating the trunk.

'It was at the back of my mind he could have,' the impostor replied, realising that Fourmies' indiscreet words had ruined any chance of pa.s.sing off the fire as accidental. He had not intended to mention the money in the trunk, but the artist's reference to it and the actress having been unable to restrain her impatience to check on how much was lost had rendered this impossible. 'But I wanted to talk to him myself and be sure before I made any accusation.'

'Huh huh!' Ballinger grunted non-committally, pa.s.sing the cloak to Vera. He noticed her hands were black and grimy as well as speckled with sand. Then he glanced into the trunk. It held a number of gold and silver coins, many of which were partially melted or otherwise distorted by the heat of the fire. 'It looks like there's a fair sum in here.'

'There is,' 'Devlin' confirmed, trying to prevent any suggestion that he had more than a casual interest from showing in his voice. 'Miss Gorr-Kauphin's not had time to open a bank account, seeing as she's on tour. So she's needing it for her expenses.'

'How much is here, ma'am?' the detective asked.

'Almost six thousand dollars,' Vera answered bitterly, but without mentioning that nearly fifteen hundred of it had been in paper money which was destroyed.

'Why did you bring it here?' Ballinger wanted to know.

'To pay the performers and stagehands,' Vera lied, but convincingly. 'I know it was injudicious -'

'You couldn't have guessed anything like this would happen,' 'Devlin' consoled, trying to decide how the detective was taking the explanation and failing to draw a conclusion from the expressionless face. 'Could she, lieutenant?"

'I reckon not,' Ballinger answered and took the razor from his pocket. 'This was lying near your brother, ma'am. Have you ever seen it before?'

'No,' Vera stated.

'How about either of you gents?' Ballinger continued.

'Not that I know of,' the impostor declared and, after Fourmies had also disclaimed all knowledge, went on, 'What was it doing by Mr Gorr-Kauphin?'

'I think he saw whoever lit the fire and was hurt when he gave chase,' Ballinger explained. 'What did you say the missing feller's name is, ma'am?'

'Marcel Tinville,' Vera answered. 'Are you saying it was him Colin saw?'

'I'm only saying what could have happened,' the detective corrected. 'The razor was near your brother, but he hadn't been cut by it -'

'He could have stepped back to avoid being cut and fallen, though,' 'Devlin' suggested, before Ballinger could elaborate upon his theory.

'That could have been what happened,' the detective conceded, deciding against mentioning the discovery he had made. 'Marcel Tinville sounds French. Is he?'

'Certainly not!' Fourmies answered indignantly. 'He's from Belgium!'

'Can you give me a description of him?' Ballinger requested, returning the razor and taking a notebook and pencil from his inside pocket.

'We have a photograph of him,' Vera offered, putting aside her usual antipathy and disinclination to help the police in her desire to be avenged for the loss she had suffered, but she received a scowl of disapproval from the bogus priest.

'I thought it was in the trunk?' 'Devlin' hinted, aware of the danger if Ballinger should apprehend the missing man and if he was guilty of lighting the fire.

'Oh dear!' Vera gasped, taking her cue and producing the kind of reaction that might be expected if the photograph had been destroyed. 'So it was!'

'I'll have to settle for just the description then,' Ballinger remarked philosophically, opening the notebook.

'He's about twenty-five, just over middle height, slim, with brown hair, a neat moustache and chin beard,' 'Devlin' obliged, seeking to be sufficiently vague to reduce the chances of the police finding Tinville. 'I'm sorry I can't say more than that.'

'How about you, Miss Gorr-Kauphin?' Ballinger requested, writing down what he had been told.

'I can't add anything more than "Father Devlin" told you,' the actress replied. 'He's fairly good looking, but not distinguished and there's nothing special about him.'

'Do you know where he's staying?' Ballinger inquired.

'At the County Clare Hotel, as we all are,' Vera answered, having received a barely perceptible nod of authorisation from the impostor. 'But I shouldn't imagine he'll be there after doing this.'

'It's a place for us to start looking, ma'am,' the detective pointed out, then indicated the trunk with a jerk of his pencil-filled hand. 'One thing's puzzling me. I can understand him being riled over you firing him, but I'd have thought he'd take the money instead of setting fire to it.'

'He didn't know it was there,' Vera lied. 'It was under my favourite dress and the ma.n.u.script of a play I'm writing. Knowing how much they meant to me, he would think burning them was the best way to take his revenge.'

'That'd be why then,' Ballinger declared, putting away the notebook and pencil with every appearance of having accepted the explanation. 'Well, that's - !'

The words were interrupted by a knock on the door. It opened to admit the burly, heavily moustached man who had driven the buggy that arrived with O'Halloran's rock-away coach. He was followed by Phineas Branigan.

'Somebody whomped old Shamus O'Toole over the head in the alley, lieutenant,' Sergeant Rory Molloy announced, his Irish voice surprisingly cheerful considering the news he was imparting. 'There's a lump the size of a goose egg on it.'

'Did Tinville do it, Mr Branigan?' 'Devlin' asked, with the combined purpose of informing the man he was addressing who was suspected of lighting the fire, and preventing him from staring with such obvious concern at the trunk.

'Tinville?' Branigan growled, swinging a puzzled gaze to the bogus priest.

'That young actor Miss Gorr-Kauphin fired tonight when he came in drunk,' 'Devlin' elaborated. 'We think he did this and knocked her brother down the stairs for trying to stop him getting away.'

'I couldn't have put it better myself,' Ballinger remarked, drawing a suspicious glance from Branigan despite his even tone. 'What'd Shamus have to say about it, Rory?'

'He reckons he didn't see who'd done it,' Molloy replied, being aware from past experience that Branigan's men did not hesitate to lie if it suited their purpose.

'A feller Tinville's size would have to sneak up behind him to do it,' Ballinger commented and, seeing the sergeant was about to say something, gave what might have been a prohibitive shake of his head. 'What was Shamus doing in the alley?'

'He told me he'd gone out for a drink,' Branigan supplied, wondering if the lieutenant had stopped Molloy speaking for some reason.

'That ought to teach him not to walk out when a lady's entertaining,' Ballinger said dryly. 'Well, there's nothing more we can do here, Rory. Let's go and see if Mr Tinville's at the County Clare.'

'Be very careful if he is, lieutenant,' 'Devlin' warned, having no wish for the actor to be taken alive so that he could answer questions. 'He's in an ugly mood and has a gun.'

'He's an excellent shot, too,' Vera supplemented, realising what the impostor was hoping to bring about. 'So I wouldn't take any chances with him if I was you. He's so dangerous I'm sure n.o.body will blame you if you have to shoot him when he resists arrest.'

'Thanks for the warning, ma'am,' Ballinger said, so soberly that the actress felt certain he would not hesitate to follow her suggestion and open fire on the slightest provocation. 'Let's go, Rory - And don't forget what the lady said.'

1 The researches of Philip Jose Farmer, q.v., suggest that Lieutenant Edward Ballinger's grandson, Frank, held a similar rank in the Chicago Police Department at a later date and his exploits formed the basis of the 1957 television series, M SQUAD, starring Lee Marvin. J. T.E.

CHAPTER FIVE.

A GOOD AND SAINTLY MAN.

'How'd Ballinger get brought into this, "Father"?' Phineas Branigan inquired, turning and closing the dressing-room door after he had taken the precaution of ensuring that neither of the detectives was eavesdropping outside.

'O'Halloran asked him to come,' 'Father Matthew Devlin' replied, puzzled by the local man's actions and the vehemence with which the question was put. He wondered if he was correct in having revised the impression he had formed on first seeing Lieutenant Edward Ballinger, and whether the other really had taken all that was said at face value. 'Can you send somebody to the County Clare Hotel before they get there. It's not likely Tinville's there. But if he is, I don't want them to get him.'

'I'll see to it,' Branigan promised, crossing to the shattered window. 'But it wasn't Tinville who put Shamus down in the alley.'

'He said he didn't know who it was,' Vera Gorr-Kauphin pointed out.

'That's what I told him to say when I saw Molloy coming,' Branigan replied. He turned and called a name.

"Does he know who hit him?' the bogus priest asked, after a man had come to the window and been given the requisite instructions.

'He said it was that broken-nosed, scar-faced bast-,' Branigan began, then changed the last word of the description out of respect for the actress's presence, 'feller who'd come to the front door pretending to be looking for the John.'

'Pretending?' 'Devlin' prompted.

'He went there all right,' Branigan growled. 'But only so he could go out of the window. Shamus caught him in the alley-'

'And let him escape,' Vera said coldly.

'He's not the brightest bucko I've got, ma'am,' Branigan answered. 'The feller tricked him.'

'When did he come to the door?' 'Devlin' demanded, remembering the man whose questions had disrupted Vera's attempts to put the audience in a generous mood for the collection that would have been taken if the fire had not brought the proceedings to an end.

'Just before you came on the stage to thank Miss Gorr-Kauphin,' Branigan replied.

'Then it must have been him - !' the impostor snarled.

'It couldn't have been,' Branigan objected, drawing an erroneous conclusion with regard to 'Devlin's' comment. 'He wouldn't have had enough time after he talked to me to get out of the John window, put Shamus down and come in here to start the fire. Anyway, I thought you said Tin-.'

'Did you know him?' the impostor interrupted. 'The man with the broken nose, I mean?'

'I've never seen him before,' Branigan admitted. 'But I'd know him again with a face the likes of his.'

'Was he Irish?' Raoul Fourmies put in, having drawn a more accurate conclusion than the local man over the reason for the bogus priest's questions.

'Sure and what else would he have been?' Branigan snorted, showing none of the respect that had been apparent when he was addressing 'Father Devlin' and the actress. 'Wasn't everybody who was here Irish, except for you folks in the show.'

'Could you tell what part of Ireland he came from?' the impostor asked. 'I mean, did he sound like a "Deny Joe"?'

'I've never met one, there's devil the few of 'em around here, so I wouldn't know,' Branigan replied. 'And anyway, Father, seeing as how it was yourself's gave out the invitations, how would a "Joe" have got in?'

'If one did, it wasn't by my invitation,' 'Devlin' declared coldly. 'Was his voice anything like that of the man who kept interrupting Miss Gorr-Kauphin?'

'I don't know,' Branigan admitted, his manner suggesting he had not given the matter any consideration. Then, seeing his att.i.tude was not meeting with the 'priest's' approval, he added in what he hoped would be exculpation, 'We hardly said more than a dozen words to one another and he didn't raise any fuss over not being let go out of the front door, so I didn't see anything wrong with him.'

'And you didn't think anything was wrong with that man challenging me as he did?' Vera asked, realising what was implied by the conversation.

'No, ma'am, I've heard some of my buckoes asking why yourself was helping us against your own people,' Branigan answered, without mentioning that he had had similar thoughts on the matter. Then, still wishing to avoid any blame for what he guessed had been the loss of the money in the trunk, he pointed at it and went on, 'And, anyway, even if he was the same feller, he couldn't have done that.'

'But he might have been in cahoots with Tinville,' 'Devlin' pointed out.

'And was keeping us occupied while that frog actor was stealing the money?' Branigan continued, having had no opportunity to look into the trunk and so drawing the most obvious conclusion for the incident.

'He's not French!' Fourmies protested, wanting to avoid any chance of being implicated with the missing actor on national grounds. 'He's from Belgium.'

'That could have been what they were up to,' the impostor conceded, paying no attention to the artist and remembering Ballinger had suggested a similar motive for Tinville's actions. 'But when Mr Gorr-Kauphin arrived before he could take it out of the trunk, he set fire to it.'

'You mean he tried to burn the money out of meanness?' Branigan snarled, advancing. 'But he'd know the coins wouldn't catch fire.'

'The banknotes did!' Vera spat out, looking with anger at the black stains left on her hands by the ashes. 'And some of the coins are marked.'

'Marked!' the local man e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. He dipped his hands into the trunk and, studying the extent of the damage caused to its contents, he considered the woman was making a gross understatement. Over half of the coins had been affected to a greater or lesser degree by the fire. He was about to inquire how this would influence the purpose for which they were intended when another thought struck him and, dropping the money he had dug up, he peered at the locks. 'Are you sure Tinville did this?'

'I can't think of anybody else who'd the opportunity,' 'Devlin' answered, recollecting the precautions which had been taken. 'He was the only one down here. Why?'

'I'd heard he did some "arson" around,' Branigan replied, straightening up and waving his right hand at the trunk. 'But not this kind.'

'What do you mean?' the impostor demanded, realising what was implied by the pun, but failing to understand how the missing actor's h.o.m.os.e.xual tendencies had anything to do with the matter they were discussing.

'Whoever set off this fire knew fine what he was doing,' Branigan explained. 'He didn't get a blaze that'd do this much damage just with matches. Would Tinville be a firebug, ma'am?'

'He never mentioned it to me if he was,' Vera replied. 'Do you know, Raoul?'

'He isn't as far as I know,' Fourmies answered, guessing that 'firebug' was a colloquial term for an arsonist.

'Whoever did this must have been!' Branigan declared with complete a.s.surance. 'Or got whatever was used from somebody who is. On top of that, unless he had the keys, he'd have to know how to pick a lock.'

'He didn't have my key, or a chance to make a copy of it,' Vera stated, clapping a hand to her bosom and feeling the device hanging on its chain around her neck. 'And one wouldn't be any use without the other.'

'Mine's never been out of my possession either,' the bogus priest went on.

'Then whoever did it picked the locks,' Branigan insisted. 'You wouldn't have left it unlocked, I reckon -' Receiving two vehement nods of agreement, he pointed and went on, 'And the locks weren't bust open. So they had to be picked.'

'That's true enough!' 'Devlin' concurred, thinking how fortunate it was that the point had not occurred to Lieutenant Edward Ballinger. He also remembered that the absent performer had shown little ability to do anything practical, or which required expert knowledge and skill. 'Tinville wouldn't know how to start doing it even. Is there an arsonist in Chicago who can pick locks as well as start fires?'

'I can think of two,' the local man replied, having an extensive if not all embracing acquaintance with the city's criminal cla.s.ses. 'But even if Tinville knew where to find them, they'd think twice about taking the ch.o.r.e when they heard me and my buckoes would be here.'

'One of them might take the chance if he was offered enough money,' 'Devlin' pointed out.

'It'd be a high price he'd be asking,' Branigan answered.

'Tinville doesn't have a great deal of money,' Vera remarked.