I held up my hand. “Wait a bit, Larry. Do you suppose, if that would do any good, I wouldn’t have done it long ago? The trouble is he may know nothing. Besides, it’s a far bigger thing than just one man, and it’s the whole concern we’re up against. Now I’ve told you more than I should, and if you breathe a word to any one of this, my goose is cooked. Get that well in your thick head right now. Not one single word, Larry!”
“Sure, I know well how to hold me tongue, if that’s all,” he said.
“Right!” I answered. “Now, what do you think of the plan?”
Larry thought for a moment. “Tis well enough, sor,” he answered presently. “But if they see him get in our taxi they’ll likely have a cyar handy and follow.” He was silent again, the effort of thought wrinkling an ordinarily smooth brow. “But I had a pal for a while, sor. He is living at the country’s expense at the moment, sor. But we used to meet on the quiet in the Park. He was being followed and I wasn’t. So he would go for a walk through the open part, to be sure he was alone, and then make for that bunch av trees an’ bushes round about the little resteront near Sivinty-second Street and Fifth Avenoo. I was waiting there with a closed taxi, and away we wint before ye cud say knife.” He paused. “Maybe that wud be better, sor?”
“Good idea, Larry. I’ll call up Moore as soon as I’ve finished. Now bring me the paper. I’m going out this morning, but I’ll be back for lunch at one, and we’ll start right after lunch. We’re to meet him at 2.30. That’s all, Larry.”
Larry picked up the paper and laid it beside me. “There it is, sor,” he remarked dryly, pointing to the third column.
This is what I read:
ANOTHER FATAL MOTOR SMASH
Mystery Car collides with L Pillar
and two are killed“The Bowery last night was the scene of another fatal motor-car smash-up, due, apparently, to the usual cause—reckless driving. A large touring-car, going probably at about sixty miles an hour, collided with an L Pillar. Two men were thrown out and instantly killed.
“Some mystery attaches to the case. No eye-witness of the accident can be found. But Joe Cschlenzki, a news-vendor, states that the car passed him a moment before the crash, going like the wind.
“There were three occupants of the car at the time of the accident. All three were men. The driver escaped death, probably by bringing up against the steering-wheel. He was unconscious when found, and was seriously hurt, being badly cut about the face, and probably suffering from internal injuries.
“The impact must have been terrific, both from the noise and from the fact that the big car had climbed half-way up the pillar and hung at an angle of 45 degrees.
“But the accident presents still more curious features. Strangely enough, the car bore New York number plates, but investigation by the police showed that the corresponding license had been issued to John Havenbier, of Yonkers, whose car, a different type, is quite intact.
“When this fact was discovered, the police tried at once to get in touch with the sole survivor of the accident. But here again they were baffled. At the time of the accident, and before the ambulance arrived, a passing car, a large closed limousine, drove by and offered to rush the injured man to the Manhattan Hospital. The offer was accepted by the police and the man was lifted into the car. But later inquiry at the hospital showed that no one was admitted to that hospital last night. The police have inquired at all the other hospitals also, but without result. Apparently the third victim has disappeared completely. The police did not take the number of the second car, and none of the bystanders appear to have noticed it.
“The bodies of the other two occupants furnished no clew as to their identity, as their clothes contained no papers of any kind. There were no marks on the clothing.
“Owing to the unusual nature of the accident and the mystery surrounding the wrecked car and its occupants, the police suspect foul play. It is believed that the fatal smash may have been due to a struggle going on in the car itself at the time of the accident. An inquest will be held this afternoon.”
That was all. I looked up to find Larry gazing at me in his droll, half-apologetic way. “What d’ye think of ut, sor?” he asked.
I thought a moment. “Larry, I think it’s bad,” I told him. “I never thought any of them would survive a smash like that, did you?”