PIPE DOWN!

Captain Henessey looked up as Cates came into headquarters. Then he threw down his pen, grinned, and leaned back in his chair. The stalwart, grizzled veteran liked Cates and secretly admitted that the boy had possibilities aside from oratory.

“How’d you make out?” he demanded.

Officer Cates of the wave-length squad dropped down in a handy chair and lit a cigarette. Then he drew a deep breath and set himself for speech.

“ Not so bad, captain,” he said. “To begin with, there are plenty of probabilities in connection with this case as I see it; so many, in fact, that it’s going to be a tough job to reconcile all of them to the distinct end of any definite lead. Now, when it comes to robberies in general——”

Captain Henessey interrupted with a bang of his big fist on the desk.

“Must you always begin everything with a public speech?” he roared. “I haven’t got time to listen to the history of the world! What I want are the facts on this Meusel case. Have you got them or must I crown you with the record book?”

Officer Cates grinned, not in the least abashed. He knew the captain quite as well as the captain knew him.

“I have ’em and here they are,” he said.

At the conclusion of the story Captain Henessey frowned.

“Let’s see now,” he summed up, “Archer was fifteen minutes late in meeting her. Hughes remained behind in the apartment, and Terhune evidently had a key that she wouldn’t tell you about. Added to that, the maid, the janitor, and other unknowns must be considered.”

“I know,” agreed Cates. He eyed his superior with some speculation. Might as well broach what he had in mind now.

“Any objections if I go on this case unofficially?” he asked, hoping he sounded casual.

Captain Henessey glared at him. “What are you talking about!” he demanded.

“Just what I say,” answered Cates sturdily. “I’ve got ideas and plenty of spare time and I’d like to put ’em both to work. Somebody’s got to solve the thing and it might as well be me.”

“Well, speaking of nerve——”

“Sure,” retorted Cates. “A guy’s got to have it these days. Just look back along the ages and consider the men who have put themselves forward. Look where they got! See what they did! Consider Julius Caesar, for example. Why, he——”

“All right,” said the captain hastily. “This is no debate.”

Thoughtfully he toyed with a pencil on his desk. Recalling the Margolo gang affair, the captain realized that his small radio cop had police stuff in him. The point was to bring him along gradually; not let him get discouraged too many times.

“Suppose you tell me some of your ideas on this case, lad,” he suggested.

Cates’ reply was instant. “Sure thing. I think that whoever took that jewelry had a key to the apartment; I think that both robberies were done by the same person or persons.

“To-morrow, if you don’t object, I’m going to talk to Mrs. Van Goss and try to make the two robberies dovetail.

“Also, I’m going to put a lot of time on that key Terhune had. And finally, I won’t interfere in the least with the work the other men are doing. Only—only——”

“Only what?”

“If I run down these jewels, I’d like to claim the reward myself. You see, captain——” He hesitated and blushed like a schoolboy.

“Yes, I see a lot that you don’t think I see, lad,” observed the captain gravely, though with a twinkle in his shrewd eyes. “She’s a fine little girl, and I wish you luck. Run along to her now and consider yourself on the case.”

Early the next afternoon Dave Cates presented himself at the apartment of Mrs. Van Goss—a sparkling little widow who rumor had it, had received an immense fortune with the death of her husband. She met Cates pleasantly enough, though with a questioning lift of well-placed eyebrows.

“I’m from headquarters, Mrs. Van Goss,” he explained. “May I ask you a few questions?”

She sighed. “Dear me, I’ve answered hundreds of questions since my apartment was broken into. But go ahead and I’ll tell you what I can.”

“I’ll try to be brief.”

He smiled, and she smiled in return. Somehow Cates’ twisted little grin reflected the richness of his voice, and few people could resist the combination.

“Now,” he continued, “was it a phone message that called you out on the day of the robbery?”

“It was.”

“Would you mind telling me who the call was from?”

“Not a bit,” she answered promptly. “It was from Mr. Hughes.”

“Arthur Hughes?”

“Yes. He was asking me to have tea with him at the Renhurst.”

Cates felt a quick excitement that his voice did not betray.

“Your jewels were taken during your absence, I presume,” he said.

“They were. I returned here about six as I recall it.”

“I see. Do you happen to know Leo Archer, or Terhune, or Miss Meusel very well?”

“Oh, yes, I know them all very well indeed,” said Mrs. Van Goss. “In fact we’re in and out of each other’s places all the time.”

“Are there any other keys to this apartment besides the ones your maid and the janitor have?”

“No.”

“Do you always carry your key with you when you go out Mrs. Van Goss?”

“I do now,” she confessed with a rueful little laugh. “Before the robbery I always left my key out in a potted plant in the corridor, simply because I seem to have a propensity for losing keys.”

“Which is unfortunate, sometimes,” smiled Dave Cates. “I think that’s all, Mrs. Van Goss, and thank you very much.”

She went with him to the door. “I hope you have learned something of value to you,” she said. “Good afternoon.”

Outside, Cates’ smile faded as he realized that the thing was in more or less of a tangle. He had become convinced that the same man committed both robberies—due to the likeness of the two telephone calls and the fact that the robberies were almost identical in points of time and circumstance.

Going strictly by formula Hughes was the obvious suspect, since he had phoned Mrs. Van Goss and since he had been in Miss Meusel’s apartment after she had left it.

But it was a bit too obvious to satisfy Cates, regardless of the fact that Captain Henessey’s best men were constantly watching Hughes.

Much more pertinent to him was Miss Meusel’s denial of any one’s possession of a key other than her own.

Walking slowly, Cates reasoned. If only he could locate those jewels the rest would be easy. The only way he might do that was to carry out the idea he had in mind—a dangerous but possibly effective plan. That plan, in brief, was to search a man’s rooms.

He hesitated, then his bulldog jaw squared. After all, he was working toward that little white bungalow, and that was worth any risk. If he could get evidence this way, so much the better.

Within the next hour Officer Cates had found the place he wanted, had made sure no one was around, and had entered by means of a skeleton key.

He searched hurriedly but thoroughly, taking care to replace everything he overturned, in order that the occupant might not become suspicious.

Finished, Cates scratched his sandy head and swore.

“The son of a gun!” he muttered. “I was sure there’d be something up here. This knocks everything into a cocked hat.”