Guy Garrick | Page 9

don't know yet just what happened," continued Dillon, "but I do
know that she had the goods on it. As nearly as I can find out, a
stranger came to the place well introduced, a man, accompanied by a
woman. They got into some of the games. The man seems to have
excused himself. Apparently he found Rena Taylor alone in a room in
some part of the house. No one heard a pistol shot, but then I think they
would lie about that, all right."
Dillon paused. "The strange thing is, however," he resumed, "that we
haven't been able to find in the house a particle of evidence that a
murder or violence of any kind has been done. One fact is established,
though, incontrovertibly. Rena Taylor disappeared from that gambling
house the same night and about the same time that Warrington's car
disappeared. Then we find her dead over in New Jersey."
"And I find reports and traces that the car has been in the vicinity,"
added Garrick.
"You see," beamed Dillon, "that's how we work together. Say you
MUST meet Herman."
He rang a bell and a blue-coated man opened the door. "Call Herman,

Jim," he said, then, as the man disappeared, he went on to us, "I have
given Herman carte-blanche instructions to conduct a thorough
investigation. He has been getting the goods on another swell joint on
the next street, in Forty-eighth, a joint that is just feeding on young
millionaires in this town, and is or will be the cause of more crime and
broken hearts if I don't land it and break it up than any such place has
been for years." The door opened, and Dillon said, "Herman, shake
hands with Mr. Garrick and Mr. Marshall."
The detective was a quiet, gentlemanly sort of fellow who looked
rugged and strong, a fighter to be respected. In fact I would much rather
have had a man like him with us than against us. I knew Garrick's
aversion to the regular detective and was not surprised that he did not
overwhelm Mr. Herman by the cordiality of his greeting. Garrick
always played a lone hand, preferred it and had taken Dillon into his
confidence only because of his official position and authority.
"These gentlemen are going to work independently on that Rena Taylor
case," explained Dillon. "I want you to give Mr. Garrick every
assistance, Herman."
Garrick nodded with a show of cordiality and Herman replied in about
the same spirit. I could not fancy our getting very much assistance from
the regular detective force, with the exception of Dillon. And I noticed,
also, that Garrick was not volunteering any information except what
was necessary in good faith. Already I began to wonder how this
peculiar bargain would turn out.
"Just who and what was Rena Taylor?" asked Garrick finally.
Inspector Herman shot a covert glance at Dillon before replying and the
commissioner hastened to reassure him, "I have told Mr. Garrick that
she was one of our best stool pigeons and had been working on the
gambling cases."
Like all detectives on a case, Herman was averse to parting with any
information, and I felt that it was natural, for if he succeeded in
working it out human nature was not such as to willingly share the

glory.
"Oh," he replied airily, "she was a girl who had knocked about
considerably in the Tenderloin. I don't know just what her story was,
but I suppose there was some fellow who got her to come to New York
and then left her in the lurch. She wasn't a New Yorker. She seems to
have drifted from one thing to another--until finally in order to get
money she came down and offered her services to the police, in this
gambling war."
Herman had answered the question, but when I examined the answer I
found it contained precious little. Perhaps it was indeed all he knew, for,
although Garrick put several other questions to him and he answered
quite readily and with apparent openness, there was very little more
that we learned.
"Yes," concluded Herman, "someone cooked her, all right. They don't
take long to square things with anyone who raps to the 'bulls.'"
"That's right," agreed Garrick. "And the underworld isn't alone in that
feeling. No one likes a 'snitch.'"
"Bet your life," emphasized Herman heartily, then edging toward the
door, he said, "Well, gentlemen, I'm glad to meet you and I'll work with
you. I wish you success, all right. It's a hard case. Why, there wasn't
any trace of a murder or violence in that place in which Rena Taylor
must have been murdered. I suppose you have heard that there wasn't
any bullet found in the body, either?"
"Yes," answered Garrick, "so far it