CHAPTER IV

A VIEWLESS ROOM

Donald Morris turned quickly and opened a door immediately on the right of the one which led into the hall.

"You found this closed?" asked Clancy.

"Yes."

"Then we'll keep it that way," said Peter, suiting the action to the word. "I can always think better with everything as it was when found. Now, let's see----" He glanced about him.

They stood in what was evidently a bedroom, but here disorder reigned supreme. All the drawers of a tall old mahogany bureau stood open, the contents flung about on the floor. A dressing table, by the one large window, had been rifled. The drawers had been pulled completely out and emptied on its top. A mound of hairpins, fine lace collars, and other small accessories of the toilet showed what they had contained. The doors of two closets stood open, but the interior appeared undisturbed. A number of very handsome and elaborate gowns and evening wraps hung in one of them, carefully arranged on hangers and covered with muslin slips. A rack containing delicate evening slippers stood in order on the floor. In the other closet were street clothes and shoes, all of fine quality and elegant pattern.

Morris watched Clancy's face.

"What do you think now?" he asked, after a moment.

Peter shook his head.

"On its face, it's a clear case of looting," he replied, slowly. "By the way, was the window shade up, as it is now, when you discovered all this?"

Morris's tone was a trifle apologetic. "No, I remember I pulled up the blind to let in the light as soon as I came in."

Clancy crossed to the window and pulled aside the thin curtains which, as in the living room, covered it from top to bottom. He looked out on a deep, narrow well, or shaft, at the far end of which could be seen an open space, and beyond the backs of the houses at the opposite end of the block. On his right was the blank wall of the tall building next door.

"No fire-escape here," he murmured, half to himself. "The thief, if it was a thief, didn't get in this way, anyhow." He looked once more about the room, photographing its every detail upon the sensitized plate of his analytical mind. "I guess that'll be about all here for the present, Mr. Morris. Is there anything more?"

"Only more of the same kind," Morris replied, as he led the way through an open door into the narrow hall, which ran through the apartment from the living room in the front to the kitchen in the rear. "This is the dining room," he crossed the threshold of the next room on the right, "and you can see the condition here. Practically nothing left in the side-board drawers. The kitchen," he led the way again, "seems to be all right, except that the window is broken just over the catch. The janitor called my attention to it. He came up with the officer to let us in and was much excited by the discovery. He said he knew that the window was not broken on the previous day. The officer thought it proved how the thief got in----"

"H--m--m. Yes," said Clancy, closely inspecting the window. "Fire-escape here. Yes. So Sullivan got it all doped out, right off the bat, did he? Clever boy, Sullivan, he sure is."

Clancy lingered a few minutes more in the kitchen, though Donald Morris could not, at the time, understand the reason for the delay. The detective stood gazing for quite a while at an innocent little sliver of ice which lay in the kitchen sink, apparently oblivious of his surroundings. When he opened the pantry door, and also looked into the refrigerator, it flashed across Donald's mind that he might be hungry and looking for something to eat, for this, in ordinary circumstances, would be the natural inference from his actions, but if that were the case, Clancy made no mention of it, and at last signified that he had finished with the kitchen.

There was only one other room in the apartment, a small one near the kitchen door, evidently intended for a maid's room but not used for that purpose, for a long rod, with a number of coat hangers upon it, crossed one side and a large trunk stood against the wall. The trunk was locked and the coat hangers were empty. A small, plain white chiffonier stood in one corner. The drawers were partly open, disclosing a few gloves and other articles of woman's apparel, all plain, old, and worn.

Neither here nor in the bathroom, which came next, were there any signs of disturbance.

As they stepped again into the hall, they were aware of a loud knocking on the door at the far end.

"That's Sullivan and the captain of the precinct, probably," said Clancy. "I'll go," and passing Morris he went quickly down the hall and opened the door.

His surmise proved to be correct. Sullivan ushered in Captain Fitzgerald and introduced his friend, Clancy, with evident pride.

Clancy took charge of the situation and conducted the captain through the apartment. The inspection finished, they all returned to the living room, where Morris awaited them.

"This is just a simple case of robbery, Mr. Morris," said the bluff police captain, deferentially (for who had not heard of the son and heir of the great Morris estate?). "We'll do our best to get hold of the lad as pulled it, but we're kind of up against it, as you can easy see for yourself. Sullivan tells me that the apartment is rented by the two Miss Blakes and that they're both away. So how can we tell what's been taken, if any? Maybe you, being a friend----"

"It happens that I have never been in the apartment before," Morris interrupted, hastily, "though I know Miss Mary Blake very well."

"And do you know where the two of them has gone then?" inquired the captain.

"No," answered Morris, slowly. "No. I'm afraid I can't help you there, either."

"Well, then, you see," Captain Fitzgerald shrugged his broad shoulders, "we don't know what's missing and so we can't know where to look for it, and equally if we don't know what's taken we don't know what kind of a guy would have been taking it. I'd like to promise results, seeing it's yourself has called us in, but it'd be just foolishness to do it till the ladies get back. As soon as they do, you let us know, and we'll take up the case again, see? It's all we can do----"

"Sure it is, Captain," agreed Peter, heartily. "Mr. Morris must see that in a plain case of burglary like this you can't do anything till the owners appear and make a complaint. He's perfectly satisfied and so am I. But you don't mind if we stick around here for a bit, do you? We've got some business to talk over and it's quiet here." He paused, and the utter silence of the place smote his nerves. "Yes, it sure is quiet," he thought within himself, "as quiet as death." Then aloud--"We'll lock up when we go and leave everything as is. So long, Sullivan. Much obliged to you, Captain. Hope I see you again," and with pleasant words of farewell he determinedly ushered Captain Fitzgerald and his satellite out into the hall.

He closed the door carefully behind them, making sure that the lock was sprung, and returned to Morris who waited in the living room.

"Well, that's that," said Peter with satisfaction, as he seated himself beside the window.

Donald Morris was pacing about the room, a heavy, puzzled frown upon his face. He stopped in front of the detective.

"Why did you get rid of the police in that abrupt fashion, Mr. Clancy?" he asked. "It seems to me that something ought to be done at once to track down this burglar, and we need all the help they can give us. I would do anything--pay anything--rather than to have Miss Blake suffer loss. With their help we might have found some clue--something to go upon. If it's a simple case of robbery, as they think----"

Clancy looked up gravely and slowly closed one eye.

"If it is a simple case of robbery," he repeated, "Captain Fitzgerald has done the only thing in his power. He's got nothing to go ahead on, if--it--is--simply--robbery." He said the last words so slowly and with so much meaning that Morris started eagerly forward, crying--

"Then you don't think----"

"It may have been robbery," Clancy interrupted, with grave intent. "But--it wasn't a simple kind of robbery, that I'll swear to."

"You mean?"

"Mr. Morris, did you notice that kitchen window which was the obvious place for the thief to make his entrance, since the fire-escape led up to it?" asked Clancy, slowly. "Well," he paused, "the window was broken just at the catch, where it ought to have been, but," he shook an impressive forefinger, "the glass had fallen entirely on the outside of the window. There wasn't a trace of it inside the room."