_ CHAPTER XVI
For a person so fastidious and particular, so fond of the luxurious and the elegant, Signor Keralio had certainly selected a queer neighborhood for his abode. Miles distant from the fashionable centers, far away up in the Bronx, he occupied the entire top floor of a dingy, broken down tenement. There were no other people in the house, it being in such bad repair that no one cared to live in it, and as Keralio paid as much as all the previous tenants combined and made no requests for improvements, the landlord was only too glad to leave him undisturbed. It was situated at the extreme end of a blind alley and, there being no egress from the street save at one end, there was consequently little or no traffic and, for the great part of the day and night, the silence was as deep and unbroken as in the open country.
With his neighbors Signor Keralio was distantly polite, but never intimate. The district was a poor one, being settled mostly by Italian laborers who rose and went to bed with the sun and toiled too long and too hard each day to bother their heads as to why such a fine gentleman as the Signor appeared to be, should live in such squalid quarters. No one had ever been admitted to his flat. If the baker called, he left the bread on the mat; if a chance peddler or book agent happened to wander in, he had to talk through closed doors. The Signor was always busy and could not be disturbed. The lights often burned all night long, and sometimes people drove up in a taxi and went away again. For a while the corner gossips speculated idly as to who he might be, but gradually they lost all interest. When he purchased trifles at the corner grocery he gave out casually that he was a newspaper man and had to work all night, and the fact that muffled sounds of hammering and machinery in motion had been heard at all hours, only helped to make the explanation more plausible.
To-night, Keralio was perhaps more anxious than at any time to discourage callers--especially should they happen to be inquisitive secret service agents. Another few days and he would have nothing more to fear. The presses would soon have completed their work and $500,000 worth of as fine a $10 counterfeit as ever deceived a bank teller would be ready for distribution. Half of them had already been run off and, as he held them up to the light and critically examined the silken thread that ran here and there through the specially prepared paper and noted the careful coloring, the beautifully geometrical lathe work and skilfully traced signatures, he silently congratulated himself. Here was half a million dollars' worth of splendid currency. Detection was absolutely impossible. Had not François already succeeded in passing a lot? After all had been disposed of, he could afford to take a rest. On the proceeds of this rich haul, he could live like a prince for a few years in Europe, and when that was all gone, he still had the diamonds to fall back upon. Glancing at the clock, he wondered why Handsome did not come. He was anxious to get possession of the diamonds. It was too soon to attempt doing anything with the stones now. The hue and cry would be too loud. All the diamond markets would be watched, if they were not already. He had a suspicion that Parker and Steell suspected something wrong. François had seen the President in earnest consultation with the lawyer directly after Handsome had announced the loss. He had not been able to hear what was said, but from their manner he inferred that the diamonds were the sole subject of conversation. They did not question Handsome's identity. That never entered their heads, but they doubted his story of losing the stones. They, no doubt, thought he had used the diamonds to make good Wall Street losses.
He chuckled as he thought how admirably his scheme had worked out. He had hinted at Kenneth being heavily short in this street, which at once explained a motive for Kenneth diverting the stones to his own use. Yes, he had triumphed over them all--except one. Helen Traynor, so far, had foiled him in everything, and the more she resisted and insulted him, the more determined he was to drag her at his feet. Handsome, poor devil, fondly imagined he would inherit the wife as well as the fortune. How could he guess that he, Keralio, would send a bogus telegram just in time to dash the cup from his lips.
Impatiently he strode up and down the rooms. Why was Handsome late? A frown darkened his face. He had better not trifle with him. He must obey without question or take the consequences. He was in no mood to be defied.
Suddenly, he started and listened. His alert ear had caught the sound of approaching footsteps on the stairs outside. A moment later came three deliberate knocks on the door, a signal which indicated a friendly visitor. Quickly, Keralio went forward and withdrew the bolt.
François entered, suit case in hand. Hardly before he could take breath after the long climb, Keralio exclaimed:
"Well, how are they going?"
The Frenchman grinned.
"À merveille! Like hot cakes. I've passed all of zem. Good work, is it not?"
"And the real stuff?" demanded Keralio.
"Is in here."
The valet pointed to the leather case.
Eagerly Keralio seized the portmanteau, and, opening it, emptied the contents. A perfect shower of greenbacks--genuine ones this time--fell upon the floor. With shaking hands, like a miser who trembles as he handles his hoarded gold, Keralio picked up the money by armfuls and, taking it to a table, proceeded to count it.
"Is it all here?" he demanded suspiciously.
The valet scowled.
"Do you think I'm holding any back on you?
Ma foi, non!"
Keralio, still counting, fixed his assistant with steely, piercing eyes.
"No, François, I think you know me too well for that. You know I never forget a service; you also know I never forgive anyone who crosses my will."
The valet shrugged his shoulders. In an injured tone he asked:
"What's all ze talk about? I work well for you. I do your dirty work,
n'est ce pas? I never complain--I am faithful. What more would you have?"
"Why should you complain? You get your share," rejoined his chief sternly.
The valet was silent and Keralio went on:
"A few days more and we'll be rid of all the new stuff. Then we'll take down the presses and carry away the parts, piece by piece. When we're ready to leave this hole, there won't be a shred of evidence left. Have you heard any news from our man in Washington? What are the secret service men doing?"
"Ze alarm is given. Zey have spotted several of ze bills. Half a dozen of ze cleverest sleuths in ze country have been put on our trail. Zey will not succeed. Ze scent is cold. We've got zem completely doped."
Keralio looked anxious.
"Is there any danger of them having shadowed you and followed you here?"
"No--
mon cher, pas le mains du monde. It took me three hours to come here from ze Pennsylvania station--such a crazy in and out route I gave ze chauffeur. If they succeed in following such a labyrinth as that, they deserve to get us."
Keralio smiled and pointed to a bottle of brandy on the table. Approvingly, he said:
"Good boy! There, take a drink and a cigar----"
After the valet had refreshed himself, he again confronted his chief.
"What else
à votre service?"
Keralio pointed carelessly to a seat. In a commanding tone, he said:
"Yes--I have more work for you. Sit down. I will tell you."
The valet took a chair and waited. Keralio looked at him meditatively for a moment. Then suddenly he asked:
"When did you leave the house?"
"This afternoon at three o'clock."
"When did Mrs. Traynor return from Philadelphia?"
"Yesterday--furious at the hoax played upon her? Miss Dorothy is perfectly well----"
Keralio smiled.
"Of course. I sent that telegram."
The valet grinned. Admiringly, he exclaimed:
"You are admirable!
Quel homme, mon dieu, quel homme!"
Paying no heed to the compliment, Keralio went on:
"What did Handsome say?"
"He is puzzled himself and can't understand. Everyone's up in the air. They think it is a discharged maid who did it for spite."
"The next time Mrs. Traynor receives a sudden message about her baby it will not be a hoax."
The valet looked up in surprise.
"What do you mean?"
Keralio did not answer the question immediately, but sat nervously twisting his fingers, a moody sullen look in his pale saturnine face. At last, breaking the heavy silence, he said:
"That woman insulted me. You saw it. You were there----"
The valet nodded.
"You mean she put you out--ah,
oui, she has a
diable of a temper when angry."
Keralio nodded.
"Yes--that I can never forgive. She shall ask my pardon on her knees. I will break her spirit, humiliate her pride. I have been taxing my brain how to do it. At last I have hit on a plan--one that cannot fail and you shall help me."
"In what way
s'il vous plait?"
Bending forward, his black eyes flashing, Keralio said earnestly:
"That woman is devoted to only two beings in this world--her husband and her baby. Sooner or later, perhaps only in a few days, she will discover that Handsome is an impostor. He is such a fool that exposure is inevitable. The blow will almost kill her. Above all, it will humiliate her pride to know that unwittingly she has allowed that drunken brute, that poor counterfeit of her husband, to caress and fondle her. Next in her affections comes her baby. If any danger threatened the child, she would stop at nothing, she would make any sacrifice to ward off the danger. I propose to bring about just that situation----"
The valet half started up from his chair. Hardened and callous as he was in crime, he was hardly prepared to go to that extreme.
"Death?" he exclaimed, horror stricken, "you would kill ze child?"
"No fool--not kill the child. I'll kidnap it--that's all. We'll bring the child here and, then I'll write the mother, telling her where it is and to come to it, but warning her that if she values the child's life, she must tell no one, and must come here unaccompanied. Once she is here, I will take care of the rest. Do you understand?"
The valet breathed more freely.
"So you will that I----"
His chief nodded.
"Precisely. You'll take the flyer to Philadelphia. Say you come from the mother. They'll have no suspicion. Take the child and come here at once. Understand?"
"
Oui, monsieur."
Keralio rose. In commanding tones, he said:
"Then go at once."
The valet went to get his hat. As he approached the door Keralio halted him and said:
"What's Handsome doing--keeping sober?"
"He has to, for I lock up all ze liquor. He lives like a lord, buying swell clothes, riding in ze automobile. Last night he lost at ze club $10,000 he had drew from ze bank."
Keralio gave a low whistle.
"The deuce he did! Living high, eh? Well--that's all right. Let him enjoy it. His gay life won't last long--only just as long as it suits my purpose."
"Hush! Not a word--here he is!"
From the landing outside came the sound of a heavy body lurching. Then came the noise of someone groping for the handle, followed by a furious pounding on the wooden panels.
"Open up there, will you!" shouted a hoarse voice.
"Drunk, as usual!" said Keralio contemptuously.
He suddenly threw the door open and the gambler, burly and unsteady on his legs, almost fell in. He was in evening dress, his collar and tie rumpled, his hair unkempt. His face was flushed, his eyes bloodshot. Reeling in, he hiccoughed:
"What'n h--ll do you live so far up town for? I thought I'd never get here. Say, this is the end of the world, ain't it? Jumping off place, eh? Stopped several times on the way to get a drink. My cabby nearly got lost. Been driving me round for three hours trying to locate the blooming house. Charged me $5. Hell of a good business, ain't it. Tain't on the level to treat an old pal that way. Y'oughter be ashamed o' yourself."
"I'm more ashamed of you--for making such a beast of yourself," rejoined Keralio angrily. "Stop your cursed noise or you'll have the police on top of us!"
Without ceremony, he pushed the newcomer into a seat and made a gesture to François to go. The valet went toward the door.
"Remember," said Keralio warningly. "There must be no blundering. I want the child brought here----"
"
Oui, monsieur--it shall be as you say."
The door closed and Keralio turned quietly to the miner. Sternly, and in a manner that brooked no nonsense, he demanded:
"Did you bring the diamonds?"
Handsome grinned, and pointed to his waist.
"I've got 'em all right!" With another hiccough, he added: "But there's no hurry, old sport. Let's have a drink before we get talking business."
In two rapid strides Keralio was up to him. Fiercely he said:
"Give me the stones--give me them I say. We've no time for your d----d fooling. Hand them over. Come----"
For a moment the gambler just sat and looked at his master. A giant in physical strength compared with the slightly built foreigner, he could have overpowered him as a child might crush an egg-shell, but he lacked the mentality, the magnetism of the Italian. He was cowed, dominated by the stronger mind. Grumbling, he began to fumble at his waist:
"I don't see what's the hurry."
"But I see," exclaimed Keralio, his eyes growing larger, as he already saw the colossal stones glittering in his hand.
The next instant Handsome had slid his hand under his waistcoat and unbuckled a belt he wore next his shirt. Unfastening a pocket and taking out the contents, he growled:
"Here they are! I'm glad to get rid of the d----d things."
With a cry of exultant joy Keralio took hold of the stones and, going to the window, greedily feasted his eyes on them. Report had not exaggerated the value and extraordinary beauty of the gems. They were worth more than a million.
"What do I get out of it?" whined the gambler.
Keralio regarded him with contempt. Dryly he said:
"You get out of it that you're not sitting in the electric chair for murdering your twin brother. You get out of it that you're playing the rôle of the millionaire, basking in the smiles of your brother's charming wife, and making a drunken beast of yourself--that's what you get out of it. Isn't it enough?"
Handsome winced. Keralio had a direct way of saying things to which there was no answer possible.
"All right," he grumbled, "I'm not kicking."
"No--I wouldn't if I were you."
Changing the topic, Keralio carelessly lit a cigarette and, between the puffs, asked:
"How's your wife?"
"My wife? You mean his wife?"
Keralio smiled.
"Yours--for the time being."
Handsome scowled.
"It isn't so easy as I thought," he replied. "I don't know if she suspects something's wrong or not, but ever since that evening she was called to Philadelphia she avoids me like the pest. I can see in her face that she's puzzled. 'It's my husband, and yet not my husband'--that's what she's thinking all the time. I can guess her thoughts by the expression on her face."
Keralio shrugged his shoulders.
"That's your own fault. I gave you the opportunity. You failed to profit by it. You got drunk the first night you arrived. Kenneth Traynor was a temperate man. Is it no wonder you excited wonder and talk? Then you were stupid under questioning and gave equivocal answers. Your explanation to Parker about the diamonds was more than unfortunate; it was idiotic. His suspicions were at once aroused. He may yet give us trouble before we have time to get rid of the stones. Finding the wife eluded you, you began to stay out late at night. You caroused, you drank hard, you gambled--all of which follies your brother never committed. In other words, you are a fool."
The miner pointed to the diamonds which still lay on the table. Sulkily he asked:
"Is that all you wanted?"
Keralio put the gems away in his pocket, and pointed to the stacks of newly printed counterfeit money that lay in stacks all over the floor.
"No, you can help me make up bundles of this stuff."
Handsome opened wide his eyes at sight of the crisp currency. Greedily he exclaimed:
"Say--that's some money! Ain't they beauties?"
Keralio made an impatient gesture and, taking off his coat, made a gesture to his companion to do likewise.
"Come--there's no time to talk. We must get rid of it all before morning. For all I know the detectives may be watching the house now." _