Episode Transcript
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Chapter eight, The Taxicab Tangle.We'd been sitting on the front porch Bill
Quinn and I discussing things in generalfor about half an hour when the subject
of transportation cropped up, and asa collateral idea, my mind jumped to
taxicabs for the reason that the formerSecret Service operative had promised to give me
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the details of a case which hereferred to as the Trenton Taxicab Tangle.
Yes, he replied reminiscently when Ireminded him of the illiterative title and inquired
to what it might refer That wasone of the branch cases which grew out
of the Von Yueld chase. Youremember Mary mc nillison, the clue of
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Shelf forty five. Well, DickWalters, the man who landed Von Yuld,
wasn't the only government detective working onthat case in New York, not
by some forty five or fifty.And Mary wasn't the only pretty woman mixed
up in it either. There wasthat girl at the Rennock switchboard. That's
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another story, though. What youwant is the taxicab clue. If you
remember the incidents which led up tothe Von Yueled affair, continued Quinn as
he settled comfortably back in his chair. You will recall that the German was
the slipperiest of slippery customers. WhenWalter stumbled on his trail through the quick
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wit of marrying mcnillis, there wasn'tthe slightest indication that there was such a
man. He was a myth,a bugaboo, elusive as the buzz of
a mosquito around your ear. Duringthe months they scoured New York and searched
for him, a number of othercases developed. Some of these led to
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very interest conclusions, but the majority, as usual, flivered into thin air.
The men at headquarters, the verycream of the government services, gathered
from all parts of the country,weren't naturally unable to separate the wheat from
the chaff in advance. Night afternight they went out on wild goose chases,
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and sometimes they spent weeks in followinga promising lead to find only blue
sky and peaceful scenery at the endof it. Alan Whitney, who had
put in two or three years roundingup counterfeiters for the service, and who
had been transferred to the Postal InspectionService at the time of those registered mail
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robberies in the Middle West, onlyto be detailed of secret service work in
connection with the von Yuelt case.Was one of the bitterest opponents of this
forced inaction. I don't mind troubleWhitney would grow, but I do hate
this eternal strain of racing around everytime the bell goes off and then finding
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that some bonehead pulled the alarm forthe sheer joy of seeing the engines come
down the street. There ought tobe a law against irresponsible people sending in
groundless tips, just as there's alaw against scandal or libel or any other
information that's not founded on fact.But just the same, al would dig
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into every new clue with as muchinterest and energy as the rest of the
boys, for there's always the thrillof thinking that the tip you're working on
may be the right one. Afterall. Whitney was in the office one
morning when the phone rang and thechief answered it. Yes, he heard
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the Chief say, this is theright place, But if your information is
really important, I would suggest thatyou come down and give it in person.
Telephones are not the most reliable instrumentsin the world. A pause followed,
and the Chief's voice again. Well, of course, we are always
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glad to receive information that tends tothrow any light on those matters. But
I must confess that yours sounds alittle vague and far fetched. Maybe the
people in the taxi merely wanted tofind a quiet place to talk. They
got out and were away for nearlytwo hours. Huh, thanks very much.
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I'll send one of our men overto talk to you about it,
if you don't mind. What's theaddress. A moment or two later,
after the Chief had replaced the receiver, he called out to Whitney, and,
with a smile that he could barelyconceal, told him to catch the
next train to Trenton, where ata certain address he would find a miss
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Vera Norton who possessed, or thoughtshe possessed information which would be of value
to the government in running down thepeople responsible for recent bomb outrages and munition
plant explosions. What's the idea,Chief inquired al. This young lady,
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at least her voice sounded young overthe phone, says that she got home
late from a party last night.She couldn't sleep because she was all jazzed
up from dancing or something, soshe sat near her window, which looks
out upon a vacant lot on thecorner along. About two o'clock a taxicab
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came putting up the street, stoppedat the corner, and two men carrying
black bags hopped out. The taxicabremained there until nearly four o'clock three forty
eight. Miss Norton's watch said,and then the two men came back without
the bags, jumped in and rolledoff. That's all she knows, or
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at least all she told. Whenshe picked up the paper round eleven o'clock
this morning, the first thing thatcaught her eye was the attempt to blow
up the powder plant about two milesfrom the Norton home. One paragraph of
the story stated that fragments of ablack bag had been picked up near the
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scene of the explosion, which onlywrecked one of the outhouses. And the
young lady leaped to the conclusion thather two night owls were mixed up in
the affair. So she called upto tip us off and get her name
in history. Better run over andtalk to her. There might be something
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to the information, after all,Yes, there might, muttered Whitney.
But as getting so nowadays that ifyou walk down the street with a purple
tie on. When someone thinks youought to be wearing a green one,
they want you arrested as a spyconfound these amateurs. Anyhow, I'm a
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married man. Chief, Why don'tyou send Giles or one of the bachelors
on this for just that reason,was the reply. Giles or one of
the others would probably be impressed bythe Nortons girl's blonde hair. It must
be blonde from the way she talked, and spend entirely too much time running
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the whole thing to earth. Goon over and get back as soon as
you can. We can't afford tooverlook anything these days. Neither can we
afford to waste too much time onharvesting crops of goat feathers. Beat it
and Whitney, still protesting, madehis way to the tube and was lucky
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enough to catch a Trenton train justabout to pull out of the station.
Miss Vera Norton, he found,was a blonde, and an extremely pretty
one at that. Moreover, sheappeared to have more sense than the Chief
had given her credit for. AfterWhitney had talked to her for a few
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minutes, he admitted to himself thatit was just as well that Giles hadn't
tackled the case. He might neverhave come back to New York, and
Trenton isn't a big enough place fora secret service man to hide in safety,
even when lured by a pair ofextremely attractive gray blue eyes. Apart
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from her physical charms, however,Whitney was forced to the conclusion that what
she had seen was too sketchy toform anything that could be termed a real
clue. No, she stated inreplied to a question as to whether she
could identify the men in the taxi. It was too dark and too far
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off for me to do that.The arc light on the corner, however,
gave me the impression that they wereof medium height and rather thick set.
Both of them were dressed in darksuits of some kind, and each
carried a black leather bag. That'swhat made me think that maybe they were
mixed up in that explosion last night. What kind of bags were they?
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Gladstones, I believe you call themthose bags that are flat on the bottom
and then slant upwards and lock atthe top. How long was the taxi
there, I don't know, justwhen it did arrive, for I didn't
look at my watch then, butit left at twelve minutes to four.
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I was getting mighty sleepy, butI determined to see how long it would
stay in one place, for itcosts money to hire a car by the
hour, even one of those greenand white taxis. Oh it was a
green and white Eh. Yes,and I got the number two. Miss
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Norton's voice fairly thrilled with the enthusiasmof her detective ability. After the men
had gotten out of the car,I remembered that my opera glasses were on
the bureau, and I used themto get a look at the machine.
I couldn't see anything of the chauffeurbeyond the fact that he was hunched down
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on the front seat, apparently asleep, And the men came back in such
a hurry that I didn't have timeto get a good look at them through
the glasses. But the number,Whitney reminded her. I've got it right,
here was the reply. As theyoung lady dug down into her handbag
and drew out a card New Yorkfour three, three, five six eight,
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She read, I got that.When the taxi turned around and headed
back to New York, I suppose, But what on earth would two men
want a taxi from New York allthe way to Trenton? For Why didn't
they come on the train that MissNorton explained Whitney is the point of your
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story that makes the whole thing lookrather suspicious. I will confess that when
the Chief told me what you hadsaid over the phone, I didn't place
much faith in it. There mighthave been a thousand good reasons for men
allowing a local taxi to wait atthe corner, but the very fact of
it's bearing a New York number makesit a distinctly interesting incident. Then you
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think it may be a clue.After all, it's a clue, all
right, replied the operative. Butwhat it's a clue too, I can't
say until we dig farther into thematter. It is probable that these two
men had a date for a partyor some kind of celebration, missed the
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train in New York and took ataxi over rather than be left out of
the party. But at the sametime, it's distinctly within the realms of
possibility that the men you saw wereimplicated in last night's explosion. It'll take
some time to get at the truthof the matter. And meanwhile, might
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I ask you to keep this informationto yourself? Indeed I shall, was
the reply, I won't tell asoul honestly. After that promise, Al
left the Norton House and made hisway across town to where the munitions factory
reared its hastily constructed head against thesky. Row after row of flimsy buildings,
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roofed with tar paper and giving nooutward evidence of their sinister mission in
life, save for the high barbedwire fence that a closed them. Formed
the entire plant, for their shellswere not made, but loaded, and
the majority of the operations were byhand. When halted at the gate,
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Whitney found that even his badge wasof no use in securing entrance. Evidently
made cautious by the events of thepreceding night, the guard refused to admit
anyone, and even hesitated without takingAl's card to the superintendent. The initials
U S S S finally secured himadmittance and such information as was available.
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This, however, consisted only ofthe fact that someone had cut the barbed
wire at an unguarded point and hadplaced a charge of explosive close to one
of the large buildings. The oneselected was used principally as a storehouse.
Otherwise, as the superintendent and indicatedby an expressive wave of his hand,
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it would have been good night tothe whole place. Evidently they didn't use
a very heavy charge, he continued, relying upon the subsequent explosions from the
shells inside to do the damage.If they'd hit upon any other building,
there'd be nothing but a hole inthe ground. Now as it is,
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the damage won't run over a fewthousand dollars. Were the papers right in
reporting that you picked some fragments ofa black bag not far from the scene
of the explosion? Whitney asked,yes, here they are, and the
superintendent produced three pieces of leather froma drawer in his desk, two pieces
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of the top and what is evidentlya piece of the side. Whitney laid
them on the desk and examined themcarefully for a few moments. Then notice
anything funny about these? He inquired? No, what's the matter? Not
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a thing in the world, exceptthat the bag must have had a very
peculiar lock. What's that here?I'll show you, and Whitney tried to
put the two pieces of metal whichformed the lock together, but inasmuch as
both of them were slotted, theywouldn't join. Damn nation, explained the
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superintendent. What do you make ofthat that there were two bags instead of
one, stated Whitney calmly. Coupledwith a little information which I ran into
before I came over here, itbegins to look as if we might land
the men responsible for this job beforethey're many hours older. Ten minutes later,
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he was on his way back toNew York, not to report at
headquarters, but to conduct a fewinvestigations at the headquarters of the Green and
White Taxicab Company. Can you tellme, he inquired of the manager in
charge, just where your taxi bearingthe license number four three three five six
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eight was last night. I can't, said the manager, but we'll get
the chauffeur up here and find outin short order. Hello, he called
over an office phone. Who hascharge of our cab bearing license number four
three three five six eight? Murphy? Is he in? Send him up.
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I'd like to talk to him.A few moments later, a beatle
jot and none too cleanly specimen ofthe Genus taxi driver swaggered in and didn't
even bother to remove his cab beforesitting down. Murphy said, the Green
and White manager, where was yourcab last night? Well, let's see,
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commenced the chauffeur. I took acouple to the Amsterdam Theater in time
for the show, and then pickedup a fare on Broadway and took him
in the hundred and forty some place. Then I cruised around till the after
theater crowd began to come up,and I got one more fare for Yonkers.
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Another long trip later on made ita pretty good night. Murphy cut
in Whitney edging forward into the conversation. Where and at just what hour of
the night did those two Germans offeryou a hundred dollars for the use of
your car all evening? They didn'toffer me no hundred dollars, growled the
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chauffeur. They gave me? Thenhe checked himself suddenly and added, in
an undertone, I don't know nothingabout no Joymans. The hell you don't,
snarled Whitney, edging toward the door. Back up against that desk and
keep your hands on top of it, or I'll pump holes clean through you.
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His right hand was in his coatpocket, the fingers closed around what
was very palpably the butt of anautomatic. Murphy could see the outline of
the weapon and obeyed instructions while Whitneyslammed the door with his left hand.
Now look here, he snapped,taking a step nearer to the taxi driver.
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I want the truth, and Iwant it quick. Also, it's
none of your business why I wantit, but you'd better come clean if
you know what's good for you outwith it. Where did you meet him?
And where did you drive him?Realizing that escape was cut off and
thoroughly cowed by the display of force, Murphy told the whole story, or
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as much of it as he knew. I was driving down Broadway around twenty
eighth Street last night about ten o'clock, he confessed. I'd taken that couple
to the theater, just as Itold you, and that man up to
Harlem. Then one of these threeguys hailed me. Three, interrupted Whitney.
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That's what I said. Three.They said they wanted to borrow my
machine until six o'clock in the morningand would give me two hundred dollars for
it. I told him there wasnothing doing and they offered me two fifty,
swearing that they'd have it back atthe same corner at six o'clock sharp.
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Two hundred and fifty bones. Beinga whole lot more than I could
make in a night, I gambledwith them and let them have the machine,
making sure that I got the coinfirst. They drove off two of
them inside, and I put inthe rest of the night shooting pool.
When I got to the corner oftwenty eight at six o'clock this morning,
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there wasn't any sign of them,but the car was there, still hot
from the hard ride they give her. That's all I know, so help
me God. Did the men haveany bags with them? Bags? No,
not one. What did they looklike? The one that talked with
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me was about my height and dressedin a dark suit. He and the
others had their hats pulled down overtheir eyes so I couldn't see their faces.
Did he talk with a German accent? He sure did. I couldn't
hardly make out what he was saying, but his money talked plain enough.
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Yes. And it's very likely totalk loud enough to send you to the
pen if you're not careful, wasWhitney's reply. If you don't want to
land there, keep your mouth shutabout this, do you get me?
I do, boss, I do. And you've told me all the truth,
every bit of it, every littlebit, all right, clear out.
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When Murphy left the room, Whitneyturned to the manager and, with
a wry smile, remarked, well, we've discovered where the car came from
and how they got it, butthat's all. We're really as much in
the dark as before. No,replied the manager, musingly, not quite
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as much. Possibly you don't knowit, but we have a device on
every car that leaves this garage totake care of just such a case as
this, to prevent drivers from runningtheir machines all over town without pulling down
the lever and then holding out thefares on us. Just a minute and
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I'll show you, Joe, hecalled, bring me the record tape of
Murphy's machine for last night, andhold his car till you hear from me.
This tape, he explained, afew minutes later, is operated something
along the lines of a seismograph orany other instrument for detecting change in direction.
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An inked needle marks these straight linesand curves all the time. The
machine is moving, and when itis standing still it oscillates slightly. By
glancing at these tapes we can tellwhen any chauffeur is holding out on us,
for it forms a clear record notonly of the distance the machine has
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traveled, but of the route itfollowed. Doesn't the spedometer give you the
distance, asked Whitney. Theoretically yes, but it's a very simple matter to
disconnect a spedometer while this record iskept in a locked box, and not
one driver in ten even knows it'sthere. Now, let's see what Murphy's
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record tape tells us. Yes,here's the trip to the theater around eight
thirty. See the sharp turn fromFifth Avenue to forty second Street, the
momentary stop in front of the Amsterdam, and the complete sweep as he turned
round to get back to Broadway.Then there's the journey up to the Bronx
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or Harlem or wherever he went,another complete turn, and an uninterrupted trip
back down on Broadway. Then thiscut in Whitney, unable to keep the
excitement out of his voice, iswhere he stopped to pick up the Germans
precisely agreed the other and as you'llnote, that stop was evidently longer than
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either of the other two. Theypaid their fares, while Murphy's friends had
to be relieved of two hundred andfifty dollars From there on is what I'm
interested in, announced Whitney. Whatdoes the tape say? It doesn't say
anything, admitted the manager with asmile. But it indicates a whole lot.
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In fact, it blazes a bloodred trail that you ought to be
able to follow with very little difficulty. See when the machine started, it
kept on down Broadway. In fact, there's no sign of a turn for
several blocks. How many that wecan't tell now, but we can figure
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it up very accurately later. Themachine then turned to the right and went
west for a short distance, onlystopped for a few moments, and then
went on, evidently toward the ferry. For here's a delay to get on
board. Here's a wavy line evidentlymade by the motion of the boat when
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the hand ought to have been practicallyat rest. And here is where they
picked up a trip to Trenton.Evidently they didn't have to stop until they
got there, because we have yardsof tape before we reach a stop point,
and then the paper is worn completelythrough by the action of the needle
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in oscillating, indicative of a longperiod of inaction. The return trip is
just as plain, But Whitney objectedthe whole thing injes on where they went
before going to Trenton. Murphy saidthey didn't have any bags, so they
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must have gone home or to somerendezvous to collect them. How are we
going to find the corner where themachine turned? By taking Murphy's car and
driving it very carefully south on Broadwayuntil the tape indicates precisely the distance marked
on this one the place where theturn was made. Then driving down that
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street the second distance shown on thetape will give you approximately the house you're
looking for. Good Lord, exclaimedWhitney. That's applying science to it.
Sherlock Holmes wasn't so smart after all. Al And the manager agreed that there
was too much traffic on Broadway inthe daytime or early evening to attempt the
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experiment, But shortly after midnight,belated pedestrians might have wondered why a green
and white taxi cab containing two menproceeded down Broadway at a snail's pace,
while every now and then it stoppedand one of the men got out to
examine something inside. I think thisis the corner, whispered the garage manager
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to Whitney when they reached eighth Street. But to be sure, we'll go
back and try it over again,driving at a normal pace. It's lucky
that this is a new instrument andtherefore very accurate. The second trial produced
the same result as the first.The place they sought lay a few blocks
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west of Broadway on eighth. Beforethey tried to find out the precise location
of the house, Whitney phoned toheadquarters and requested loan of a score of
men to assist in the contemplated raid. Tell them to have their guns handy,
he ordered, because we may haveto surround the block and search every
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house, But the taxi tape renderedthat unnecessary. It indicated any one of
three adjoining houses on the north sideof the street, because, as the
manager pointed out, the machine hadnot turned round again until it struck a
north and south thoroughfare, Hence thehouses must be on the north side.
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By this time, the reserves wereon hand, and, upon instructions from
Whitney, spread out in a fanshaped formation, completely surrounding the houses front
and rear at a blast from apolice whistle. They mounted the steps and,
not waiting for the doors to beopened, went through them shoulders first.
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It was Whitney, who had electto assist in the search of the
Center House, who captured his preyin a third floor bedroom. Before the
Germans knew what was happening, Alwas in the room, his flashlight playing
over the floor and table in ahasty search for incriminating evidence. It didn't
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take long to find it either.In one corner, only partly concealed by
a newspaper whose flaring headlines referred tothe explosion of the night before, was
a collection of bombs, which,according to later expert testimony, was sufficient
to blow a good sized hole inthe city of New York. That was
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all they discovered at the time,but a judicious use of the third degree,
coupled with promises of leniency, inducedone of the prisoners to loosen up
the next day, and he toldthe whole story precisely as the ta Exe
tape and Vera Norton had told it. The only missing ingredient was the power
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behind the plot, the mysterious numbereight fifty nine, whom Dick Walters later
captured because of the clue on shelfforty five. So you see, commented
Quinn as he finished. The youngerPitt wasn't so far wrong when he cynically
remarked that there is a providence thatwatches over children, imbeciles, and the
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United States. In this case,the principal clues were a book from the
public library, The Chance Observations ofa Girl who Couldn't Sleep, and a
piece of white paper with some redmarkings on it. At that though,
it's not the first time the Germanagents have gotten into trouble over a scrap
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of paper. What happened to VeraNorton? I inquired? Beyond a little
personal glory, not a thing inthe world, replied Quinn. Didn't I
tell you that Al was married?You're always looking for romance, even in
everyday life. Besides, if hehad been a bachelor, Whitney was too
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busy trying to round up the otherloose ends of the yu old case number
eight fifty nine hadn't been captured.Then you remember, give me a match.
My pipe's gone out. No,I can't smoke it here, it's
too late. But speaking of smallclues, that lead to big things.
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Some day soon, I'll tell youthe story of how a match, one
just like this, for all Iknow, led to the uncovering of one
of the most difficult smuggling cases thatthe Customs Service ever tried to solve.
End of Chapter eight