Early Monday morning Marsh started for Hubbard Woods, to carry out his investigations regarding the Merton house These investigations must be conducted along different lines from those he had contemplated on Sunday, for his last interview with Hunt had considerably changed his position in the matter. Hunt now regarded him with suspicion, and it might be considered probable that he had even gone so far as to warn the caretaker he had said was in charge, against admitting Marsh.
Marsh intended to have another look at the place, but only a surreptitious one from the cover of the woods. His chief object now was to discover if neighbors knew anything about the place. As he came down the road he recognized the turn, which the day before had brought him directly in front of the gate, so he stepped to the side of the road, and approached the turn with caution, for he did not want anyone who might be coming from the house to find him near it at this time.
As Marsh walked slowly around the bend in the road he saw the rear of a closed car just disappearing between the gateposts. Only the guarded way in which he had approached had prevented the occupants of the car from seeing him. Marsh hurried to the shelter of one of the big stone gateposts and peered around it in time to note that the car was a large, black one of the limousine type. The next minute it was lost to view around a curve in the driveway, and Marsh paused for a moment to reflect. This might be Hunt's car bringing him up for one of the visits which he had said he was accustomed to make. On the other hand, it seemed too early an hour for a man of Hunt's habits. Moreover, Marsh had reason to believe that Hunt's car would be followed; and certainly there was no one else in sight now. Marsh decided that the matter was worth investigating, and turned into the concealing shadow of the woods. He made his way with difficulty through the tangled underbrush, in what he believed to be the general direction of the house. His guess was correct, for the house was before him when he emerged, a few minutes later, from the woods. He was protected from the sight of anyone in the house by a screen of heavy shrubbery, which divided the lawn from the woods.
He found that in his unguided advance through the woods, he had approached the house to the south, so that he saw not only the house itself, but also had a good view of the garage at the back. The car had evidently just been run into the garage, for a man was closing the doors, while another stood nearby. A moment later, the two men approached the house and passed out of sight. Marsh presumed that they had used the back door, which was out of his line of vision. While the distance was too great for him to see the men's features distinctly, he knew that neither of them was Hunt, for he was now sufficiently familiar with Hunt's figure to have easily recognized it.
To have seen one man or woman around the premises would not have surprised Marsh, as he was prepared to find a caretaker in charge. That two men should drive up in an expensive automobile, however, store it in the garage, and enter the house, as if perfectly at home, was a peculiar incident. Caretakers do not usually have automobiles; certainly not expensive limousines. If the family had been away for a few days, it would be natural for the chauffeur, or some of the servants, to use the car. But this house had been closed for two years, and Marsh was under the impression that Merton had not been using a private car. If he had been using a car it was hardly likely that he would have let his old chauffeur go. The telephone conversation, which the girl at the hotel had overheard, between Merton and the supposed Nolan, indicated that Merton had more than a casual regard for his ex-chauffeur, or the man would not have appealed to him.
Marsh's suspicions being now definitely aroused, he decided not to take a chance by showing himself in the open. This might very probably be "the house in the suburbs," and he was not prepared to battle alone with four or more desperate men. Though he lingered for some time in his place of concealment, there were no further signs of life, so Marsh, deciding that he was wasting valuable time, crept cautiously into the woods and worked his way back through the undergrowth to the main road.
The next step was to find a close neighbor. Having twice approached the house from the north, Marsh knew that there was no residence near it on that side. He turned south, therefore, and after going only a few hundred feet, approached a gateway that was similar in many respects to that at the entrance to the driveway of the Merton home. It lacked the tall, distinctive pines, however, and a short distance inside the gate he could see a cozy little gardener's cottage, or lodge. Marsh was well pleased at this discovery, for he had hoped to locate something of the kind. Servants are more easily, questioned, more talkative, and usually in the possession of a larger amount of neighborhood gossip, than their employers. He approached the door and knocked.
"Come in," called a feminine voice, unquestionably Swedish in its accent.
Marsh opened the door and found himself in a room that appeared to be kitchen, sitting and dining room. A small, round table was set for two, and a woman stood near the stove, preparing lunch or a midday dinner. Marsh had not realized how quickly the morning was passing. The woman's occupation reminded him that he was hungry, and also gave him a sudden inspiration. He would offer to buy his lunch here, for people always grow more friendly and communicative over a meal.
"You want my husband? He bane come in a minute," the woman said, when she saw Marsh.
"No," Marsh replied, "I wasn't looking for your husband. I've been walking around the neighborhood, and thought perhaps I could get lunch here. I'll pay you well for your trouble."
The woman smiled broadly. "Dere bane enough one more. Yust set down—one, two minute."
Marsh laid his hat and coat on an old-fashioned couch that stood against the wall, and was about to sit down beside them, when the door opened again and a stocky man entered. His tanned face was expressionless, and the eyes looked dully at Marsh. A lock of light brown hair drooped over his forehead from under a cap, which he wore well back on his head. The cap seemed to be a fixture, for it was not removed while Marsh remained, and the detective had the humorous thought that it might also serve as a nightcap.
"Aye give dis yentleman lunch," explained the woman.
The man grunted, took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves and sat down at the table.
"Not very talkative," thought Marsh. Then the woman told him to sit down at the place she had prepared for him. She heaped the three plates with a stew-like mixture. Marsh did not recognize it, but he liked the flavor. With this, and the fresh home-made bread, a cup of strong coffee, and urged on by a healthy appetite, which his morning in the frosty country air had made keener, he enjoyed his lunch.
To these people eating was just a part of their day's work, and beyond the satisfying of a natural appetite, evidently produced no special feeling of enjoyment. Contrary to his expectations, therefore, Marsh did not find an opportunity to open a conversation. One or two remarks were greeted merely with grunts, so he decided to wait until the business of eating had been completed. The man's food disappeared rapidly, including a second helping, and Marsh was pleased to see him at last take out an old cob pipe and fill it with an evil-looking, strong-smelling tobacco from a dirty paper package. Marsh lit a cigarette, chiefly as a matter of protection.
"Have you lived here long?" inquired Marsh, addressing the man.
"Tree year," answered the woman. The man rolled his eyes in her direction.
"I'm thinking of buying a place around here," continued Marsh. "This house next door seems to be a nice place."
He nodded his head in the direction of the Merton home.
The man and his wife exchanged glances. She laughed, but the man's face looked as solemn as its expressionless lines would permit.
"Et bane bad place," he muttered.
"Nels—he bane crazy!" snapped the woman. "Crazy widt de moonshane!"
"Moonshine!" repeated Marsh.
"Hootch," she explained. "Ole's hootch."
Marsh laughed, and Nels grinned, his features for the first time showing an awakened interest.
Marsh thought quickly. The woman was evidently the "boss," but she would not talk about something in which she had no faith. On the other hand, the man undoubtedly had some knowledge of things which Marsh desired to know. He decided to side with the man.
"You don't approve of hootch?" Marsh asked her.
"No—no!" she exclaimed vehemently.
"But it makes a strong man work harder—keeps up his health." Marsh glanced at Nels, who showed appreciation of this defense of home-made strong drink by grinning at Marsh. The Secret Service man decided they would soon be friends, and quietly slipping his hand into his pocket, began to detach a bill.
The woman snorted in protest. "Et make Nels see t'ings. No goodt for him," she said, sharply. Then she rose and began clearing the table. While her back was turned, Marsh quickly slipped a bill over to Nels, winked hard at him, and nodded toward the door. Dull as the man seemed, he apparently understood Marsh's suggestion. He winked back and grinned, but as the woman returned to the table his face instantly resumed its blank expression.
"Well," said Marsh, rising. "I must be going." He drew out some bills and presented one to the woman. "I thank you for the lunch. It was fine. You are a good cook."
When taking his leave, Marsh put special emphasis on his parting with Nels. After closing the door behind him, however, he strolled in a very leisurely way toward the gate, and instead of keeping on along the road he leaned against the outside of one of the posts where he was not visible from the cottage. He had not waited long when footsteps sounded on the crushed stone of the driveway and Nels appeared. Marsh beckoned to him and they walked down the roadway until out of sight of the gate.
"Nels," said Marsh, stopping and facing the Swede, "you don't think I ought to buy that house next door, eh?"
Nels shrugged his shoulders. "Dat bane your bes'ness," he said.
"But I don't want to buy a place that has a bad name. Will you tell me what you think is the matter with it?"
Nels glanced about him, and standing a little closer to Marsh, said in a lowered, voice, "Aye tenk bad men live dere."
"But," protested Marsh, "I thought the house was closed, and had only a caretaker, or someone like that?"
"No caretaker," answered Nels. "Tree—four—five men. House look close, but men inside." Then he added, shaking his head, "Fonny-fonny."
"How do you know all this, Nels?"
"Aye watch. Aye see you yesterday, with yong lady."
Marsh smiled. This was evidently the man he had seen crouching in the bushes, and who had caused him to hurry Miss Atwood away from the house.
"Yes," said Marsh, "I was going to look over the house, but there seemed to be nobody home."
"Men inside," answered Nels, giving Marsh a shock.
"Tell me all about it, Nels," said Marsh, patting the man on the shoulder, "and I'll give you some more money."
"House close two year. Since den Aye see fonny men—most in night time. Big, black car—no light. House stay close—all dark—fonny—so Aye watch."
"Is that all?" inquired Marsh.
"Aye tell my wife—she say Aye drink too much hootch," grinned Nels. "So Aye don't tell her about deh oder night."
"What night was that?"
"Aye tenk las' Monday night. Aye go see Ole. He have some new stuff—goodt—goodt. Aye stay late—don't see well com'n' home. Aye tenk Aye turn in my own gate and walk—walk—walk—but no home. Aye hear auto com'n'—get out of de road. Et pass me—stop." Nels lowered his voice to a whisper. "Aye bane nowhere near home—in front bad place. Men turn on lights—CARRY DEAD MAN IN HOUSE!"
"How did you know he was dead?" exclaimed Marsh.
"He all loose—so," and Nels endeavored to illustrate by allowing his body to droop limply.
"Then what?"
"Car put in gar-rage—all quiet. Aye get scared. Aye see clear now—Aye run like hell!"
"That's all you know, is it, Nels?" asked Marsh.
"All now—but Aye watch."
"You're a good man, Nels—real smart," said Marsh. "Here's some more money for you. Maybe I'll come to see you again."
"You bane fine man," grinned Nels, as he pocketed the additional bill.
"Good-bye, Nels," said Marsh, "Better not tell anybody about our talk. Your wife might hear about it."
Nels winked knowingly and they parted, Marsh going directly to the station of the electric line and returning to Chicago.
As he approached his apartment, Marsh saw a heavily built man lounging on the steps and chatting with the policeman on duty. Marsh paid no attention to this man, merely nodding to the policeman as he passed, and climbed the stairs to his apartment. But after he had unlocked the door he stood in the hall instead of entering. Presently the man came up the stairs and they entered the apartment together. As soon as the door closed the man said, "I've got that dope for you." He pulled out a long envelope and handed it to Marsh.
"Thanks," said Marsh as he took the envelope. "Things are shaping themselves fine."
"Anything I can do?" asked the man.
"Nothing now," answered Marsh, "but you had better have several men where we can reach them in a hurry. How is Oak Street?"
"No change," was the reply. "Hasn't left the house all day." With that the man opened the door and left.
Marsh opened the envelope. It contained the black leather notebook, a letter, and some typewritten sheets. He sat down and read the letter.
The solution of the cipher code used in the notebook submitted, was comparatively simple and we were able to work it out here. This code was evidently not intended for the transmission of secret messages; it was very probably used exclusively to make notations in this book with the sole idea of maintaining privacy for these memoranda.
Due to the simplicity of the code, it could be easily memorized and therefore used for making hurried notes for quick reference.
To the inexpert person the combination of letters and figures gave a bewildering appearance to the notes, but it did not actually make the cipher any more intricate.
You can readily make up your own key to this cipher by writing out the letters of the alphabet from A to Z. Under these letters you again write the letters of the alphabet, placing the letter A under the letter Z and working backward. By this arrangement, A would stand for Z and Z for A. Below This you again write out the letters of the alphabet, and under these, beginning at Z and working backward, write the numbers 1 to 10, which brings you to the letter Q. From P to J you write the figures 20 to 26 and from I to A you write the figures 30 to 38. The person using this cipher probably memorized these two arrangements. In writing a word of say six letters, he would use four letters and two figures. To anyone glancing at his notes in a casual way, the system looked intricate, but to him these notes could be read almost as easily as if written in plain English.
Attached to the letter were several pages containing the decoded notations from the book. After carefully reading these, Marsh folded the sheets and started to place them in his pocket. Then he paused, glancing about the room thoughtfully. A moment later he smoothed the sheets out flat and lifting up the corner of the rug, slipped them under it well toward the center. Walking back and forth over the spot several times, he seemed satisfied. Then he turned up one of the chairs, placed the notebook inside of the bottom lining, and putting on his hat and coat, went out.
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