CHAPTER XXIV.
The Last Act
(Tuesday, April 26; 9 a. m.)
With this astounding revelation the Bishop murder case entered its final and most terrible phase. Heath had been informed of Vance’s discovery; and it was arranged that we should meet in the District Attorney’s office early the following day for a counsel of war.
Markham, when he took leave of us that night, was more troubled and despondent than I had ever seen him.
“I don’t know what can be done,” he said hopelessly. “There’s no legal evidence against the man. But we may be able to devise some course of action that will give us the upper hand. . . . I never believed in torture, but I almost wish we had access to-day to the thumbscrew and the rack.”
Vance and I arrived at his office a few minutes after nine the next morning. Swacker intercepted us and asked us to wait in the reception room for a little while. Markham, he explained, was engaged for the moment. We had no more than seated ourselves when Heath appeared, grim, pugnacious and sullen.
“I gotta hand it to you, Mr. Vance,” he proclaimed. “You sure got a line on the situation. But what good it’s going to do us I don’t see. We can’t arrest a guy because his name’s in a book.”
“We may be able to force the issue some way,” Vance rejoined. “In any event, we now know where we stand.”
Ten minutes later Swacker beckoned to us and indicated that Markham was free.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Markham apologized. “I had an unexpected visitor.” His voice had a despairing ring. “More trouble. And, curiously enough, it’s connected with the very section of Riverside Park where Drukker was killed. However, there’s nothing I can do about it. . . .” He drew some papers before him. “Now to business.”