Part 3 (1/2)

”Well,” he explained slowly as I opened my eyes wide in amazement at the minuteness of his researches, ”those were the marks of the tire of an automobile that had been run up into the bushes from the road. You know every automobile tire leaves its own distinctive mark, its thumb print, as it were. When I have developed my films, you will see that the marks that have been left there are precisely like those left by the make of tires used on Warrington's car, according to the advertis.e.m.e.nt sent out by McBirney. Of course, that mere fact alone doesn't prove anything. Many cars may use that make of tires. Still, it is an interesting coincidence, and if the make had been different I should not feel half so encouraged about going ahead with this clew. We can't say anything definite, however, until I can compare the actual marks made by the tires on the stolen car with these marks which I have photographed and preserved.”

If any one other than Garrick had conceived such a notion as the ”thumb print” of an automobile tire, I might possibly have ventured to doubt it. As it was it gave food enough for thought to last the remainder of the journey back to town.

CHAPTER IV

THE LIQUID BULLET

On our return to the city, I was not surprised after our conversation over in New Jersey to find that Garrick had decided on visiting police headquarters. It was, of course, Commissioner Dillon, one of the deputies, whom he wanted to see. I had met Dillon myself some time before in connection with my study of the finger print system, and consequently needed no second introduction.

In his office on the second floor, the Commissioner greeted us cordially in his bluff and honest voice which both of us came to know and like so well later. Garrick had met him often and the cordiality of their relations was well testified to by Dillon's greeting.

”I thought you'd be here before long,” he beamed on Garrick, as he led us into an inner sanctum. ”Did you read in the papers this morning about that murder of a girl whose body was found up in New Jersey in the underbrush?”

”Not only that, but I've picked up a few things that your man overlooked,” confided Garrick.

Dillon looked at him sharply for a moment. ”Say,” he said frankly, ”that's one of the things I like about you, Garrick. You're on the job.

Also, you're on the square. You don't go gumshoeing it around behind a fellow's back, and talking the same way. You play fair. Now, look here.

Haven't I always played fair with you, Garrick?”

”Yes, Dillon,” agreed Garrick, ”you have always played fair. But what's the idea?”

”You came up here for information, didn't you?” persisted the commissioner.

Garrick nodded.

”Well do you know who that girl was who was murdered?” he asked leaning forward.

”No,” admitted Garrick.

”Of course not,” a.s.serted Dillon triumphantly. ”We haven't given it out yet--and I don't know as we shall.”

”No,” pursued Garrick, ”I don't know and I'll admit that I'd like to know. My position is, as it always has been, that we shouldn't work at cross purposes. I have drawn my own conclusions on the case and, to put it bluntly, it seemed to me clear that she was of the demi-monde.”

”She was--in a sense,” vouchsafed the commissioner. ”Now,” he added, leaning forward impressively, ”I'm going to tell you something. That girl--was one of the best stool pigeons we have ever had.”

Both Garrick and I were listening intently at, the surprising revelation of the commissioner. He was pacing up and down, now, evidently much excited.

”As for me,” he continued, ”I hate the stool pigeon method as much as anyone can. I don't like it. I don't relish the idea of being in partners.h.i.+p with crooks in any degree. I hate an informer who worms himself or herself into a person's friends.h.i.+p for the purpose of betraying it. But the system is here. I didn't start it and I can't change it. As long as it's here I must accept it and do business under it. And, that being the case, I can't afford to let matters like this killing pa.s.s without getting revenge, swift and sure. You understand?

Someone's going to suffer for the killing of that girl, not only because it was a brutal murder, but because the department has got to make an example or no one whom we employ is safe.”

Dillon was shouldering his burly form up and down the office in his excitement. He paused in front of us, to proceed.

”I've got one of my best men on the case now--Inspector Herman. I'll introduce you to him, if he happens to be around. Herman's all right.

But here you come in, Garrick, and tell me you picked up something that my man missed up there in Jersey. I know it's the truth, too. I've worked with you and seen enough of you to know that you wouldn't say a thing like that as a bluff to me.”

Dillon was evidently debating something in his mind.

”Herman'll have to stand it,” he went on, half to himself. ”I don't care whether he gets jealous or not.”