one of the knowing grins that suited the part of Bill
Quaine.
A flunky arrived to conduct the visitors to Jondran's study. They followed
a long hall; came to a massive doorway. Entering a little anteroom, Pinkey saw a
heavy metal grille barring a doorway on the left. Beyond the grille was a room;
it was dimly lighted, and Pinkey spied the door of a huge vault. There was another door on the right; it was of oak. The servant rapped at that door.
There was a call to come in; the visitors were introduced to a large study, where Giles Jondran sat behind a massive desk. The only lights were near
the desk itself, leaving the depths of the room vague, except at one wall, where
flames were crackling merrily in a wide fireplace.
Jondran's face was kindly, but marked with lines that gave him a keen expression. His eyes had a steady sparkle, beneath the grayish brows that matched his hair. His tone was businesslike, when he asked:
'Which one of you is Detective Quaine?'
Pinkey nudged toward the man beside him. Jondran inquired regarding Quaine's business here. It developed that Quaine had come for the sole purpose of introducing Mr. Findlen, which he did.
'Just call me Pinkey,' announced the big-shot, seating himself at the end of Jondran's desk. 'I'd call you by your first name, too, if I knew how to pronounce it. Anyhow, we're acquainted. So let's talk turkey. Hand me those envelopes, Bill.'
RECEIVING the envelopes, Pinkey opened the one that was unmarked.
'Take a gander at these,' he told Jondran. 'First, here's some dope on a guy named Howard Milay. You ought to know him. He runs one of your companies; an outfit called Sphere Shipping.'
Giles Jondran nodded, but his expression was perplexed.
'Here's the proof of how Milay swindled a big insurance company,'
continued Pinkey. 'Letters, showing that he knew one of the ships was loaded with junk metal and was due to hit the bottom of the ocean. Only, Milay collected on a cargo of supplies.'
Stupefaction came over Jondran's features.
'Next comes John Thorry,' announced Pinkey. 'Here's the dope on how he bought a lot of punk oil wells and charged them off to another of your companies - Western Oil Fields. He knew those wells were phony. We've got a letter from him, admitting it.'
Pinkey didn't even bother to watch Jondran wilt. He brought out the evidence incriminating Martin Meriden. 'Meriden pulled the same sort of deal,'
declared Pinkey. 'He bought up a bunch of service stations that were only on paper. That did another of your nice little companies out of a quarter-million.
Meriden gypped Eastern Refineries, just like it shows here.'
Jondran started an interruption. Pinkey stopped it with a wave of his hand. He planked Bron's confession on the table along with photographs of Meriden's son, Reggie.
'You think there's an explanation,' declared Pinkey. 'Sure there is!
Meriden wanted to keep his kid out of jail; Lewis Bron is scared he'll go there
himself. That's why Bron put an O.K. on your books, Jondran.
'Get it? Your own company was doped out of the fourth quarter-million.
Yes, sir - World Oil has plenty to cover up for itself. Here, Bill' - Pinkey shoved the papers and the envelope across to his companion - 'put these away.'
Pinkey watched Slick sort the papers. Jondran did the same. His eyes showed contempt for Pinkey; but he thought that persuasion might work with the big-shot's companion.
'I can't believe this, Mr. Quaine!' exclaimed Jondran. 'You represent the law, yet you ally yourself with a blackmailer!'
Bill Quaine himself could not have registered a blunter look. Jondran heard his gruff voice:
'Yeah, I'm in on the racket. So what?'
Jondran couldn't answer but Pinkey did.
'We've got a million,' snapped the big-shot. 'Now we're all set to smear the front pages with this stuff about your companies. How would you like that, Jondran?'
'It would mean ruin!' gasped Jondran. 'Stock of World Oil would drop, with
that of all it's subsidiaries!'
'Yeah. Your fifty-million-dollar company would be lucky if it was worth ten million. And half of your own money would go in the smash. But there's a way out of it, Jondran.'
'There is?'
'That's right. An easy way out. Just pay us dollar for dollar. Double the ante. With another million bucks, we'll be satisfied!'
JONDRAN'S hands seemed feeble as they drummed the desk top. He, too, was thinking in terms of two million dollars; for he knew that he would have to restore the funds that crooks had already rifled. But Jondran apparently could see no other way out of the dilemma.
'Very well,' he decided. 'You shall have your million - but with one proviso. I must have a positive guarantee that it is all you intend to ask.'
Pinkey opened the second envelope. From it tumbled a different sort of evidence. Here were facts that refuted the incriminating statements in the first envelope.
'Here's the whole way we worked the racket,' affirmed Pinkey. 'Copies of letters that we swiped. Forged papers pinning things where they didn't belong.
Signed statements by some of the boobs that worked for us - particularly a guy named Bugs Hopton.
'For instance, Meriden's son wasn't a safe-cracker. Bron didn't shoot that
guy Parrington. All this stuff will square the guys we framed, up to a certain point. Its good enough, ain't it, for you to keep as a receipt?'
He pushed the papers across the desk, with the order:
'Put 'em in the envelope, Quaine.'
'Suppose I made that evidence public?' queried Jondran. 'What could you do
then?'
'You won't spill it,' rasped Pinkey, 'because you'd have to tell everything that happened. What you'll do is keep it, so that you can explain what we've got, if we use it. All right, Jondran. Let's get back to the million.'
Pinkey nudged for Slick to hand Jondran the second envelope. It came over,
and Pinkey noted the mark on it. Jondran fumbled the envelope between his hands.
'About the million dollars' - his tone was pathetic - 'if you can wait a few days -'
'I thought you'd stall!' snarled Pinkey. 'All right, we'll wait, but there'll be somebody else waiting, too!'
He reached for the telephone; dialed Ondrey's number. When Ondrey answered, Pinkey asked if Beth was all right. Mention of the name brought a startled look from Jondran. Pinkey was grinning at Ondrey's assurance that the girl was a prisoner.
'Put her on,' suggested Pinkey. 'Her old man wants to talk to her.'
It was Maude who actually talked across the wire to Jondran; but she had Beth's tone to perfection. Jondran let the receiver chatter. Pinkey politely replaced it on the hook.
'When we get the million,' he told Jondran, 'you get your daughter. No strings to it; we just want to make sure that we get the dough without no trouble.'
FUMBLING in his vest pocket, Jondran produced a key; he passed it weakly to Pinkey. He said that it was the key to the strong room that his visitors had
seen when they entered. With a pencil, Jondran scrawled the combination of the vault.
'You've got a million bucks in there?' demanded Pinkey. 'You keep all that
money in the house?'
'Much of it is in securities,' returned Jondran. 'There are jewels, also
-
priceless jewels; but they mean nothing, compared to my daughter's safety!
