One day, nearly two months after the theft of Kull’s car, a strange man called on the real estate dealer, later left his office, and was not seen afterward. Mr. Rack’s men discovered the fellow to be a worthless, discharged employe of a motor concern in Rochester. His name was Coster.
It was but a day or two later that Kull suddenly left home. Later it was learned he was in Griffin, registered at the American hotel under an assumed name.
“And it was at that time, undoubtedly,” said Mr. Rack, “that, having taken the Torpedo from wherever it was concealed, Coster was on the way west with it. Kull was in Griffin to meet him. He visited the old farm where he had once lived for a short time. He carried the planks over the hill to the icehouse, that his friend might readily run the Torpedo down the embankment and so into that building. There are some links missing as to this assertion but it will be found substantially correct when the details are known. For it was certainly the intention that the Torpedo should be placed in this new and more distant hiding-place. Kull had purchased a supply of Fielderson’s automobile and carriage paint. He mentioned to a clerk in the store that he was going to use the material on an old surrey he had. He owned no such vehicle. Hence my conclusion, at this time, that the paint was to be used in a further concealment of the identity of the Torpedo.
“Again I heard from Harkville that Kull, after a brief stay at home, following his having been in Griffin, was once more out of town. I was busy with other matters and did not immediately take up the threads of the case again. I was about to do so yesterday,” and here Mr. Rack smiled toward Mr. Wagg, who sat with eyes and mouth open, his glasses perched on the very top of his bald head,—“when Mr. Phil and Mr. David, here, came in upon me, introduced by one of our best young lawyers. They were in possession of so much information that, dovetailing their statements with my own previous knowledge, I had a fairly perfect fabric of fact. From this it was simply a little study to deduce practically certain probabilities. However, I spent a few hours piecing out and verifying my threads of information. I found that Kull’s poor mother could probably live but a few days or weeks, at most. I found a man named Coster had been locked up for intoxication here in Griffin, that he was first seen in town on Saturday and his clothing was splashed with mud. Friday was a rainy day, you will remember. By the merest chance my Harkville representative also learned yesterday that Kull had purchased some saws for cutting steel before leaving town on Tuesday. He had bought a ticket for Batavia, but that was no certain sign that he would not stop off in Griffin.
“To see through the man’s entire plan now is, of course, like reading it in print. All that we do not know is just how Coster happened to lose the Torpedo, then pick up the car of our friends here, which certainly he did. That we will learn later. The point I would bring to your notice now is that Kull, whatever his first plan may have been, changed somewhat his course of action as he found circumstances favoring him. He had learned of Coster reaching Griffin in an intoxicated condition and being locked up. He enabled him to escape by passing saws in to him by means of a long stick put between the bars of the rear corridor window, which was open. This he did last night, Mr. Fobes believes, and he probably is correct.
“It is an interesting fact, but not a strange one, for usually it is the small thing that trips the criminal up,—an interesting fact, observe, that the dog Kull had been at such pains to be rid of in Harkville, lest it innocently betray the spot where his car had been concealed, had appeared here in Griffin to trouble him. To regain possession of the Torpedo (after having failed to get it placed in a barn where he could more easily get at it) Kull found it necessary to kill the Scotch collie. This he did on Sunday night. It was also desirable that Mr. Creek be placed beyond power to hinder. An anonymous telephone call from Port Greeley, summoning him there, did the work nicely.
“Now we come to the circumstance that Kull believed so especially favored him—Coster breaking jail, the Torpedo disappearing, poor old Mr. Peek assaulted and killed—all this in one night. Where would suspicion naturally point? To Coster, certainly.”
Mr. Rack smiled and paused.
“Wonderful!” exclaimed Mr. Wagg.
“Not at all. The boys deserve more credit than I. And we found so much additional information the moment we reached Griffin to-night, that the veriest novice could hardly go wrong. Billy had Coster’s measure from boots up. Fobes knew nothing except that he was able to tell me that Creek telephoned to him from Port Greeley, stating that there was deception in his being summoned to that town, and asking him to watch the garage, which, by the way, he did not do. The time was short and the only particle of credit we deserve is for having moved at once and quickly.