May 15, 2025 • 9 mins
In the heart of New York, a corporate lawyer plunges eighteen stories from the ominously named Black Eagle Building. Police quickly rule it a suicide, but Molly Morgenthau Babbits, an audacious part-time detective, isnt so easily convinced. The deceased, Hollings Harland, was rumored to be involved in a covert organization controlling the copper market, and was on the brink of being exposed. Just before his death, Harland had a heated argument with the affluent Johnston Barker, another suspected member of the secretive organization. Could Harland have been considering defection? Or was there something more sinister at play? With the help of an insider at the Black Eagle, Molly dives headfirst into her own unofficial investigation, suspecting a foul play murder.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter nineteen of The Black Eagle Mystery. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Recorded by Mike overby Midland, Washington, dedicated to UNI. Chapter
(00:21):
nineteen of The Black Eagle Mystery by Geraldine Bonner. Jack
tells the story that night Babbitts, O'Malley and I left
for Quebec. Before we went, the wires that connected us
with the Canadian city had been busy. Saint Foix five
eighty four had been located a house on a suburban road,
(00:43):
occupied for the last two weeks by an American named
Henry Santley. Instructions were carried over the hundreds of intervening
miles to surround the house, to apprehend Santley if he
tried to get away, and to watch for the old
lady who would join him that night. Unless something unforeseen
and unimaginable should occur. We had bark her at last.
(01:03):
As we rushed through the darkness, we speculated on the
reasons for his last daring move, the sending for his daughter.
O'Malley figured it out as the result of a growing confidence.
He was feeling secure and wanted to help her. He
had had ample proof of her discretion and had probably
some plan for her enrichment that he wanted to communicate
(01:23):
to her in person. I was of the opinion that
he expected to leave the country and intended to take
her with him, sending back later for the mother. He
was assured of her trust and affection, knew she believed
in him, and was certain the murder hadn't been and
now never would be discovered. He could count on safety
in Europe, and with his vast gains, could settle down
(01:44):
with his wife and his daughter to a life of
splendid ease. Well, we'd see to that the best laid
schemes of mice and men. The sun was bright, the
sky sapphire clear, as the great Rock of Quebec, crowned
with its fortress roof, came into view. The two rivers
clasped its base. I spanned it at the shore, and
(02:05):
in the middle of their dark currents flowing free snow
and snow and snow heaved and billowed on the surrounding hills,
paved the narrow streets, hooded the roofs of the ancient houses.
Through the air razor edged with cold and crystal clear,
came the thin, broken music of sleigh bells ringing up
from every lane and alley, jubilant and inspiring, and the sleighs,
(02:29):
low running flew by with the wave of their streaming firs,
and the flash of scarlet standards glorious, splendid. A fit day,
all sun and color and music for me to come
to carol. A man met us at the depot, a silent,
wooden faced policeman of some kind, who said, yes, he
thought the lady was there, and then piloted us glumly
(02:52):
into a sleigh and mounted beside the driver. A continuous,
vague current of sound came from babbitts and O'Malley as
we climbed the steep hill with the front and axe
pinnacled towers looming above us, and then shot off down
narrow streets, where the jingle of the bells was flung
back at a cross, echoing and reverberating between the old
stone houses. It made me think of a phrase the
(03:14):
boys in the office used, coming with bells. We went
some distance through the town and out along the road
where the buildings drew apart from one another, villas and
suburban houses behind walls and gardens. At the smaller one,
set back in a muffling of white and shrubberies. The
sleigh drew in toward the sidewalk before the others could
(03:34):
disentangle themselves from the furs and robes. I was out
and racing up the path, my eyes ranging hungrily over
the house, thinking perhaps to see her at one of
the windows, saw in it something ominous and secretive. There
was not a sign of life, every pane darkened, with
a lowered blind all about it. The snow was heaped
and curled in wave like forms, as if endeavoring to
(03:56):
creep over it, to aid in the work of hiding
its dark mystery. Barker's lair, his last stand. It looked
like it, white wrapped, silent, inscrutable. As I leapt up
the piazza steps, the door was opened by a man
in uniform. He touched his hat and started to speak,
but I pushed him aside and came in, peering past
(04:18):
him down a hall that stretched away to the rear.
At the sound of his voice, a door had opened there,
and a woman came out. For a moment. She was
only a shadow moving toward me up the dimness of
the half lit passage. Then I recognized her, gave a cry,
and ran to her. My hands found hers and closed
on them, My eyes, looking down into the dark ones
(04:39):
raised to them. Neither of us spoke. It didn't occur
to me to explain why I was there, and she
showed no surprise at seeing me. It seemed as if
we'd known all along we were going to meet in
that dark passage, in that strange house. And standing there,
silent hand clasped in the hand, I saw something so wonderful,
(05:00):
so unexpected, that the surroundings faded away, and for me
there was nothing in the world but what I read
in her beautiful, lifted face. I never had dared to hope,
never had thought of her as caring for me. All
I had asked was the right to help and defend her.
Perhaps under different circumstances, when things were happy and easy,
i'd have aspired gone in to try and win. But
(05:22):
in the last dark month, when we'd come so close,
we'd only been a woman set upon and menaced, and
a man braced and steeled to do battle for her.
Now with her stone cold hands in mine, I saw
in the shining depths of her eyes. Oh no, it's
too sacred. That part of the story is between Carol
(05:44):
and me. There had been sounds and voices in the
vestibule behind us. They came vaguely upon my consciousness, low
and then breaking suddenly into a louder key phrases, exclamations, questions.
I don't think if the house had been rocked by
an earthquake, I'd have noticed it. And it wasn't till
O'Malley came down the passage, calling me that. I dropped
her hands and turned. His face was creased into an
(06:06):
expression of excited consternation, and he rapped out, not seeing Carroll,
What the devil are you doing here? Haven't you heard?
Then his eye catching her, Oh it's miss Whitehall. Well,
young lady, you must have had a pretty tough time
here last night. She simply drooped her eyes in faint agreement.
What do ye mean? I cried, and looked from O'Malley's
(06:29):
boisterously concerned countenance, took Carroll's worn white one. What is
it something, maw? She gave a slight nod, and then
said the last, the end. This time O'Malley wheeled on me.
She hasn't told you. He shot himself here last night,
shortly after she arrived. Before I had time to answer
(06:50):
Babbitt's in, the man in uniform a police inspector were
beside us. Babbots was speechless, as I was myself, but
the inspector pompous and stole it answered my look of
shocked amazement. A few minutes after one, fortunately I got
your instructions and the house was surrounded. My men heard
the report and the screams, and broke in at once.
(07:11):
I looked blankly from one to the other. There was
a confused horror in my mind. But from the confusion,
one thought rose clear. Barker had done the best, the
only thing. The inspector, ostentatiously cool in the midst of
our guest concern, volunteered further. He didn't die till near morning,
and we got a full statement out of him for
(07:32):
an hour afterward. He was clear as a bell. They
are that way sometimes, and gave us all the particulars
seemed to want to. We've quught it from stars, and
from what I can make out, he was one of
the sharpest, most Darren criminals. I ever ran up against.
I've had the body kept up here for your identification.
Will you come up and see it now? He moved
off toward the stairs. O'malleyan Babbitts muttering together filing after him.
(07:55):
I didn't go, but turned to Carol, who had thrust
one hand through the balustrade that ran up besides where
we were standing. As the tramp of ascending feet sounded
on the first steps, she leaned toward me, her voice
hardly more than a whisper. Do you know who it is? Who?
What is? I said, Startled by her words an expression
the man upstairs? I was terror stricken. The experiences of
(08:20):
the night had unhinged her mind. I tried to take
her hand, but she drew it back, her lips forming
words just loud enough for me to hear. You don't
it's Haulings Harland, Carol, I cried, certain now she was unbalanced.
She drew further away from me, and, slipping her hand
from the balustrade, pointed up the stairs. Go and see
(08:42):
it's he. There's nothing the matter with me, but I
want you to see for yourself. Go and see, and
then come back here and I'll tell you I know
everything Now I went a wild rush up the stairs.
In a room off the upper hall, the light tempered
by drawn blinds. O'Malley Babbitts and the Inspector looking at
(09:03):
the dead body of Hollings Harland. End of Chapter nineteen
Chapter nineteen of The Black Eagle Mystery. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Recorded by Mike overby Midland, Washington, dedicated to UNI. Chapter
(00:21):
nineteen of The Black Eagle Mystery by Geraldine Bonner. Jack
tells the story that night Babbitts, O'Malley and I left
for Quebec. Before we went, the wires that connected us
with the Canadian city had been busy. Saint Foix five
eighty four had been located a house on a suburban road,
(00:43):
occupied for the last two weeks by an American named
Henry Santley. Instructions were carried over the hundreds of intervening
miles to surround the house, to apprehend Santley if he
tried to get away, and to watch for the old
lady who would join him that night. Unless something unforeseen
and unimaginable should occur. We had bark her at last.
(01:03):
As we rushed through the darkness, we speculated on the
reasons for his last daring move, the sending for his daughter.
O'Malley figured it out as the result of a growing confidence.
He was feeling secure and wanted to help her. He
had had ample proof of her discretion and had probably
some plan for her enrichment that he wanted to communicate
(01:23):
to her in person. I was of the opinion that
he expected to leave the country and intended to take
her with him, sending back later for the mother. He
was assured of her trust and affection, knew she believed
in him, and was certain the murder hadn't been and
now never would be discovered. He could count on safety
in Europe, and with his vast gains, could settle down
(01:44):
with his wife and his daughter to a life of
splendid ease. Well, we'd see to that the best laid
schemes of mice and men. The sun was bright, the
sky sapphire clear, as the great Rock of Quebec, crowned
with its fortress roof, came into view. The two rivers
clasped its base. I spanned it at the shore, and
(02:05):
in the middle of their dark currents flowing free snow
and snow and snow heaved and billowed on the surrounding hills,
paved the narrow streets, hooded the roofs of the ancient houses.
Through the air razor edged with cold and crystal clear,
came the thin, broken music of sleigh bells ringing up
from every lane and alley, jubilant and inspiring, and the sleighs,
(02:29):
low running flew by with the wave of their streaming firs,
and the flash of scarlet standards glorious, splendid. A fit day,
all sun and color and music for me to come
to carol. A man met us at the depot, a silent,
wooden faced policeman of some kind, who said, yes, he
thought the lady was there, and then piloted us glumly
(02:52):
into a sleigh and mounted beside the driver. A continuous,
vague current of sound came from babbitts and O'Malley as
we climbed the steep hill with the front and axe
pinnacled towers looming above us, and then shot off down
narrow streets, where the jingle of the bells was flung
back at a cross, echoing and reverberating between the old
stone houses. It made me think of a phrase the
(03:14):
boys in the office used, coming with bells. We went
some distance through the town and out along the road
where the buildings drew apart from one another, villas and
suburban houses behind walls and gardens. At the smaller one,
set back in a muffling of white and shrubberies. The
sleigh drew in toward the sidewalk before the others could
(03:34):
disentangle themselves from the furs and robes. I was out
and racing up the path, my eyes ranging hungrily over
the house, thinking perhaps to see her at one of
the windows, saw in it something ominous and secretive. There
was not a sign of life, every pane darkened, with
a lowered blind all about it. The snow was heaped
and curled in wave like forms, as if endeavoring to
(03:56):
creep over it, to aid in the work of hiding
its dark mystery. Barker's lair, his last stand. It looked
like it, white wrapped, silent, inscrutable. As I leapt up
the piazza steps, the door was opened by a man
in uniform. He touched his hat and started to speak,
but I pushed him aside and came in, peering past
(04:18):
him down a hall that stretched away to the rear.
At the sound of his voice, a door had opened there,
and a woman came out. For a moment. She was
only a shadow moving toward me up the dimness of
the half lit passage. Then I recognized her, gave a cry,
and ran to her. My hands found hers and closed
on them, My eyes, looking down into the dark ones
(04:39):
raised to them. Neither of us spoke. It didn't occur
to me to explain why I was there, and she
showed no surprise at seeing me. It seemed as if
we'd known all along we were going to meet in
that dark passage, in that strange house. And standing there,
silent hand clasped in the hand, I saw something so wonderful,
(05:00):
so unexpected, that the surroundings faded away, and for me
there was nothing in the world but what I read
in her beautiful, lifted face. I never had dared to hope,
never had thought of her as caring for me. All
I had asked was the right to help and defend her.
Perhaps under different circumstances, when things were happy and easy,
i'd have aspired gone in to try and win. But
(05:22):
in the last dark month, when we'd come so close,
we'd only been a woman set upon and menaced, and
a man braced and steeled to do battle for her.
Now with her stone cold hands in mine, I saw
in the shining depths of her eyes. Oh no, it's
too sacred. That part of the story is between Carol
(05:44):
and me. There had been sounds and voices in the
vestibule behind us. They came vaguely upon my consciousness, low
and then breaking suddenly into a louder key phrases, exclamations, questions.
I don't think if the house had been rocked by
an earthquake, I'd have noticed it. And it wasn't till
O'Malley came down the passage, calling me that. I dropped
her hands and turned. His face was creased into an
(06:06):
expression of excited consternation, and he rapped out, not seeing Carroll,
What the devil are you doing here? Haven't you heard?
Then his eye catching her, Oh it's miss Whitehall. Well,
young lady, you must have had a pretty tough time
here last night. She simply drooped her eyes in faint agreement.
What do ye mean? I cried, and looked from O'Malley's
(06:29):
boisterously concerned countenance, took Carroll's worn white one. What is
it something, maw? She gave a slight nod, and then
said the last, the end. This time O'Malley wheeled on me.
She hasn't told you. He shot himself here last night,
shortly after she arrived. Before I had time to answer
(06:50):
Babbitt's in, the man in uniform a police inspector were
beside us. Babbots was speechless, as I was myself, but
the inspector pompous and stole it answered my look of
shocked amazement. A few minutes after one, fortunately I got
your instructions and the house was surrounded. My men heard
the report and the screams, and broke in at once.
(07:11):
I looked blankly from one to the other. There was
a confused horror in my mind. But from the confusion,
one thought rose clear. Barker had done the best, the
only thing. The inspector, ostentatiously cool in the midst of
our guest concern, volunteered further. He didn't die till near morning,
and we got a full statement out of him for
(07:32):
an hour afterward. He was clear as a bell. They
are that way sometimes, and gave us all the particulars
seemed to want to. We've quught it from stars, and
from what I can make out, he was one of
the sharpest, most Darren criminals. I ever ran up against.
I've had the body kept up here for your identification.
Will you come up and see it now? He moved
off toward the stairs. O'malleyan Babbitts muttering together filing after him.
(07:55):
I didn't go, but turned to Carol, who had thrust
one hand through the balustrade that ran up besides where
we were standing. As the tramp of ascending feet sounded
on the first steps, she leaned toward me, her voice
hardly more than a whisper. Do you know who it is? Who?
What is? I said, Startled by her words an expression
the man upstairs? I was terror stricken. The experiences of
(08:20):
the night had unhinged her mind. I tried to take
her hand, but she drew it back, her lips forming
words just loud enough for me to hear. You don't
it's Haulings Harland, Carol, I cried, certain now she was unbalanced.
She drew further away from me, and, slipping her hand
from the balustrade, pointed up the stairs. Go and see
(08:42):
it's he. There's nothing the matter with me, but I
want you to see for yourself. Go and see, and
then come back here and I'll tell you I know
everything Now I went a wild rush up the stairs.
In a room off the upper hall, the light tempered
by drawn blinds. O'Malley Babbitts and the Inspector looking at
(09:03):
the dead body of Hollings Harland. End of Chapter nineteen
Popular Podcasts
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.
Medal of Honor: Stories of Courage
Rewarded for bravery that goes above and beyond the call of duty, the Medal of Honor is the United States’ top military decoration. The stories we tell are about the heroes who have distinguished themselves by acts of heroism and courage that have saved lives. From Judith Resnik, the second woman in space, to Daniel Daly, one of only 19 people to have received the Medal of Honor twice, these are stories about those who have done the improbable and unexpected, who have sacrificed something in the name of something much bigger than themselves. Every Wednesday on Medal of Honor, uncover what their experiences tell us about the nature of sacrifice, why people put their lives in danger for others, and what happens after you’ve become a hero. Special thanks to series creator Dan McGinn, to the Congressional Medal of Honor Society and Adam Plumpton. Medal of Honor begins on May 28. Subscribe to Pushkin+ to hear ad-free episodes one week early. Find Pushkin+ on the Medal of Honor show page in Apple or at Pushkin.fm. Subscribe on Apple: apple.co/pushkin Subscribe on Pushkin: pushkin.fm/plus
Dateline NBC
Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com