Inspector Mallory took the card tendered by Chick Carter with the remarks above noted. It had been taken by Chick from a large cabinet of drawers containing the Bertillon signaletic cards of thousands of other crooks, and it contained two photographs and the criminal record of the man then under discussion.
The face that met the inspector’s gaze was not a prepossessing one. It was that of a man of fifty—a hard and sinister face, with a low brow and narrow eyes, a hooked nose, like the beak of a bird of prey, a square jaw, and thin lips, drawn downward at the corners—a more evil and cruel face than one often viewed.[Pg 4]
“He looks like a bad egg, indeed, Chick,” said Inspector Mallory, grimly inspecting the two photographs.
“His looks flatter him,” Chick replied. “He’s the worst in the business.”
“His record corroborates you,” said the inspector, while he read the criminal career noted on the card. “He appears to have been extraordinarily lucky, however, in eluding arrest and doing time.”
“Lucky is right,” Nick put in. “He has been peculiarly fortunate in that respect, Mallory, but very unlucky in others.”
“How so, Nick?”
“I happen to know something about the inside history of the rascal,” Nick explained. “I got it from one of his old pals, Darby Moore, who died in Matteawan less than a year ago.”
“I knew him,” Inspector Mallory said.
“Aside from his legitimate trade as a machinist, at which Nordeck is an expert, he has absolutely no head on his shoulders,” Nick proceeded. “He could not frame up and pull off a job of any size, to say nothing of this savings-bank break, if his life depended upon it. He can work to advantage only when guided by a capable leader. Take it from me, Mallory, this Westchester job was directed by such a man, not by Jim Nordeck. There was a much bigger man than he behind the gun.”