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On Secret Service

<h2>XXI</h2> <h3>A MILLION-DOLLAR QUARTER</h3> "What's in the phial?" I inquired one evening, as Bill Quinn, formerly of the United States Secret Service, picked up a small brown bottle from the table in his den and slipped it into his pocket. "Saccharine," retorted Quinn, laconically. "Had to come to it in order to offset the sugar shortage. No telling how long it will continue, and, meanwhile, we're conserving what we have on hand. So I carry my 'lump sugar' in my vest pocket, and I'll keep on doing it until conditions improve. They say the trouble lies at the importing end. Can't secure enough sugar at the place where the ships are or enough ships at the place where the sugar is. "This isn't the first time that sugar has caused trouble, either. See that twenty-five-cent piece up there on the wall? Apparently it's an ordinary everyday quarter. But it cost the government well over a million dollars, money which should have been paid in as import duty on tons upon tons of sugar. "Yes, back of that quarter lies a case which is absolutely unique in the annals of governmental detective work—the biggest and most far-reaching smuggling plot ever discovered and the one which took the longest time to solve. "Nine years seems like a mighty long time to work on a single assignment, but when you consider that the[299] Treasury collected more than two million dollars as a direct result of one man's labor during that time, you'll see that it was worth while." <hr style="width: 45%;" /> The whole thing really started when Dick Carr went to work as a sugar sampler [continued Quinn, his eyes fixed meditatively upon the quarter on the wall]. Some one had tipped the department off to the fact that phony sampling of some sort was being indulged in and Dick managed to get a place as assistant on one of the docks where the big sugar ships unloaded. As you probably know, there's a big difference in the duty on the different grades of raw sugar; a difference based upon the tests made by expert chemists as soon as the cargo is landed. Sugar which is only ninety-two per cent pure, for example, comes in half-a-cent a pound cheaper than that which is ninety-six per cent pure, and the sampling is accomplished by inserting a thin glass tube through the wide meshes of the bag or basket which contains the sugar. It didn't take Carr very long to find out that the majority of the samplers were slipping their tubes into the bags at an angle, instead of shoving them straight in, and that a number of them made a practice of moistening the outside of the container before they made their tests. The idea, of course, was that the sugar which had absorbed moisture, either during the voyage or after reaching the dock—would not "assay" as pure as would the dry material in the center of the package. A few experiments, conducted under the cover of night, showed a difference of four to six per cent in the grade of the samples taken from the inside of the bag and that taken from a point close to the surface, particularly if even a small amount of water had been judiciously applied. The difference, when translated into terms of a half-a-cent[300] a pound import duty, didn't take long to run up into hundreds of thousands of dollars, and Carr's report, made after several months' investigating, cost a number of sugar samplers their jobs and brought the wrath of the government down upon the companies which had been responsible for the practice. After such an exposure as this, you might think that the sugar people would have been content to take their legitimate profit and to pay the duty levied by law. But Carr had the idea that they would try to put into operation some other scheme for defrauding the Treasury and during years that followed he kept in close touch with the importing situation and the personnel of the men employed on the docks. The active part he had played in the sugar-sampling exposure naturally prevented his active participation in any attempt to uncover the fraud from the inside, but it was the direct cause of his being summoned to Washington when a discharged official of one of the sugar companies filed a charge that the government was losing five hundred thousand dollars a year by the illicit operations at a single plant. "Frankly, I haven't the slightest idea of how it's being done," confessed the official in question. "But I am certain that some kind of a swindle is being perpetrated on a large scale. Here's the proof!" With that he produced two documents—one the bill of lading of the steamer Murbar, showing the amount of sugar on board when she cleared Java, and the other the official receipt, signed by a representative of the sugar company, for her cargo when she reached New York. "As you will note," continued the informant, "the bill of lading clearly shows that the Murbar carried eleven million seven hundred thirty-four thousand six hundred[301] eighty-seven pounds of raw sugar. Yet, when weighed under the supervision of the customhouse officials a few weeks later, the cargo consisted of only eleven million thirty-two thousand and sixteen pounds—a 'shrinkage' of seven hundred two thousand six hundred seventy-one pounds, about six per cent of the material shipment." "And at the present import duty that would amount to about—" "In the neighborhood of twelve thousand dollars loss on this ship alone," stated the former sugar official. "Allowing for the arrival of anywhere from fifty to a hundred ships a year, you can figure the annual deficit for yourself." Carr whistled. He had rather prided himself upon uncovering the sampling frauds a few years previously, but this bade fair to be a far bigger case—one which would tax every atom of his ingenuity to uncover. "How long has this been going on?" inquired the acting Secretary of the Treasury. "I can't say," admitted the informant. "Neither do I care to state how I came into possession of these documents. But, as you will find when you look into the matter, they are entirely authoritative and do not refer to an isolated case. The Murbar is the rule, not the exception. It's now up to you people to find out how the fraud was worked." "He's right, at that," was the comment from the acting Secretary, when the former sugar official had departed. "The information is undoubtedly the result of a personal desire to 'get even'—for our friend recently lost his place with the company in question. However, that hasn't the slightest bearing upon the truth of his charges. Carr, it's up to you to find out what there is in 'em!" "That's a man-sized order, Mr. Secretary," smiled[302] Dick, "especially as the work I did some time ago on the sampling frauds made me about as popular as the plague with the sugar people. If I ever poked my nose on the docks at night you'd be out the price of a big bunch of white roses the next day!" "Which means that you don't care to handle the case?" "Not so that you could notice it!" snapped Carr. "I merely wanted you to realize the handicaps under which I'll be working, so that there won't be any demand for instant developments. This case is worth a million dollars if it's worth a cent. And, because it is so big, it will take a whole lot longer to round up the details than if we were working on a matter that concerned only a single individual. If you remember, it took Joe Gregory nearly six months to land Phyllis Dodge, and therefore—" "Therefore it ought to take about sixty years to get to the bottom of this case, eh?" "Hardly that long. But I would like an assurance that I can dig into this in my own way and that there won't be any 'Hurry up!' message sent from this end every week or two." "That's fair enough," agreed the Assistant Secretary. "You know the ins and outs of the sugar game better than any man in the service. So hop to it and take your time. We'll content ourselves with sitting back and awaiting developments." Armed with this assurance, Carr went back to New York and began carefully and methodically to lay his plans for the biggest game ever hunted by a government detective—a ring protected by millions of dollars in capital and haunted by the fear that its operations might some day be discovered. In spite of the fact that it was necessary to work entirely in the dark, Dick succeeded in securing the manifests[303] and bills of lading of three other sugar ships which had recently been unloaded, together with copies of the receipts of their cargoes. Every one of these indicated the same mysterious shrinkage en route, amounting to about six per cent of the entire shipment, and, as Carr figured it, there were but two explanations which could cover the matter. Either a certain percentage of the sugar had been removed from the hold and smuggled into the country before the ship reached New York, or there was a conspiracy of some kind which involved a number of the weighers on the docks. "The first supposition," argued Carr, "is feasible but hardly within the bounds of probability. If the shortage had occurred in a shipment of gold or something else which combines high value with small volume, that's where I'd look for the leak. But when it comes to hundreds of thousands of pounds of sugar—that's something else. You can't carry that around in your pockets or even unload it without causing comment and employing so many assistants that the risk would be extremely great. "No, the answer must lie right here on the docks—just as it did in the sampling cases." So it was on the docks that he concentrated his efforts, working through the medium of a girl named Louise Wood, whom he planted as a file clerk and general assistant in the offices of the company which owned the Murbar and a number of other sugar ships. This, of course, wasn't accomplished in a day, nor yet in a month. As a matter of fact, it was February when Carr was first assigned to the case and it was late in August when the Wood girl went to work. But, as Dick figured it, this single success was worth all the time and trouble spent in preparing for it.[304] It would be hard, therefore, to give any adequate measure of his disappointment when the girl informed him that everything in her office appeared to be straight and aboveboard. "You know, Dick," reported Louise, after she had been at work for a couple of months, "I'm not the kind that can have the wool pulled over my eyes. If there was anything crooked going on, I'd spot it before they'd more than laid their first plans. But I've had the opportunity of going over the files and the records and it's all on the level." "Then how are you to account for the discrepancies between the bills of lading and the final receipts?" queried Carr, almost stunned by the girl's assurance. "That's what I don't know," she admitted. "It certainly looks queer, but of course it is possible that the men who ship the sugar deliberately falsify the records in order to get more money and that the company pays these statements as a sort of graft. That I can't say. It doesn't come under my department, as you know. Neither is it criminal. What I do know is that the people on the dock have nothing to do with faking the figures." "Sure you haven't slipped up anywhere and given them a suspicion as to your real work?" "Absolutely certain. I've done my work and done it well. That's what I was employed for and that's what's given me access to the files. But, as for suspicion—there hasn't been a trace of it!" It was in vain that Carr questioned and cross-questioned the girl. She was sure of herself and sure of her information, positive that no crooked work was being handled by the men who received the sugar when it was unloaded from the incoming ships. Puzzled by the girl's insistence and stunned by the[305] failure of the plan upon which he had banked so much, Carr gave the matter up as a bad job—telling Louise that she could stop her work whenever she wished, but finally agreeing to her suggestion that she continue to hold her place on the bare chance of uncovering a lead. "Of course," concluded the girl, "you may be right, after all. They may have covered their tracks so thoroughly that I haven't been able to pick up the scent. I really don't believe that they have—but it's worth the gamble to me if it is to you." More than a month passed before the significance of this speech dawned upon Dick, and then only when he chanced to be walking along Fifth Avenue one Saturday afternoon and saw Louise coming out of Tiffany's with a small cubical package in her hand. "Tiffany's—" he muttered. "I wonder—" Then, entering the store, he sought out the manager and stated that he would like to find out what a lady, whom he described, had just purchased. The flash of his badge which accompanied this request turned the trick. "Of course, it's entirely against our rules," explained the store official, "but we are always glad to do anything in our power to assist the government. Just a moment. I'll call the clerk who waited on her." "The lady," he reported a few minutes later, "gave her name as Miss Louise Wood and her address as—" "I know where she lives," snapped Carr. "What did she buy?" "A diamond and platinum ring." "The price?" "Eight hundred and fifty dollars." "Thanks," said the operative and was out of the office before the manager could frame any additional inquiries.[306] When the Wood girl answered a rather imperative ring at the door of her apartment she was distinctly surprised at the identity of her caller, for she and Carr had agreed that it would not be wise for them to meet except by appointment in some out-of-the-way place. "Dick!" she exclaimed. "What brings you here? Do you think it's safe?" "Safe or not," replied the operative, entering and closing the door behind him. "I'm here and here I'm going to stay until I find out something. Where did you get the money to pay for that ring you bought at Tiffany's to-day?" "Money? Ring?" echoed the girl. "What are you talking about?" "You know well enough! Now don't stall. Come through! Where'd you get it?" "An—an aunt died and left it to me," but the girl's pale face and halting speech belied her words. "Try another one," sneered Carr. "Where did you get that eight hundred and fifty dollars?" "What business is it of yours? Can't I spend my own money in my own way without being trailed and hounded all over the city?" "You can spend your own money—the money you earn by working and the money I pay you for keeping your eyes open on the dock as you please. But—" and here Carr reached forward and grasped the girl's wrist, drawing her slowly toward him, so that her eyes looked straight into his, "when it comes to spending other money—money that you got for keeping your mouth shut and putting it over on me—that's another story." "I didn't, Dick; I didn't!" "Can you look me straight in the eyes and say that they haven't paid you for being blind? That they didn't[307] suspect what you came to the dock for, and declared you in on the split? No! I didn't think you could!" With that he flung her on a couch and moved toward the door. Just as his hand touched the knob he heard a voice behind him, half sob and half plea, cry, "Dick!" Reluctantly he turned. "Dick, as there's a God in heaven I didn't mean to double cross you. But they were on to me from the first. They planted some stamps in my pocket during the first week I was there and then gave me my choice of bein' pulled for thieving or staying there at double pay. I didn't want to do it, but they had the goods on me and I had to. They said all I had to do was to tell you that nothing crooked was goin' on—and they'll pay me well for it." "While you were also drawing money from me, eh?" "Sure I was, Dick. I couldn't ask you to stop my pay. You'd have suspected. Besides, as soon as you were done with me, they were, too." "That's where the eight hundred and fifty dollars came from?" "Yes, and a lot more. Oh, they pay well, all right!" For fully a minute there was silence in the little apartment, broken only by the sobs of the girl on the couch. Finally Carr broke the strain. "There's only one way for you to square yourself," he announced. "Tell me everything you know—the truth and every word of it!" "That's just it, Dick. I don't know anything—for sure. There's something goin' on. No doubt of that. But what it is I don't know. They keep it under cover in the scale house." "In the scale house?" "Yes; they don't allow anyone in there without a[308] permit. Somebody uptown tips 'em off whenever a special agent is coming down, so they can fix things. But none of the staff knows, though nearly all of them are drawin' extra money for keeping their mouths shut." "Who are the men who appear to be implicated?" "Mahoney, the checker for the company, and Derwent, the government weigher." "Derwent!" "Yes, he's in on it, too. I tell you, Dick, the thing's bigger than you ever dreamed. It's like an octopus, with tentacles that are fastened on everyone connected with the place." "But no clue as to the location of the body of the beast?" "Can't you guess? You know the number of their office uptown. But there's no use hoping to nab them. They're too well protected. I doubt if you can even get at the bottom of the affair on the dock." "I don't doubt it!" Carr's chin had settled itself determinedly and his mouth was a thin red line. "I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. Go back to work as usual on Monday. Don't let on, by word or gesture, that anything has changed. Just await developments. If you'll do that, I'll see that you're not implicated. More than that, I'll acknowledge you at the proper time as my agent—planted there to double cross the fraud gang. You'll have your money and your glory and your satisfaction of having done the right thing, even though you didn't intend to do it. Are you on?" "I am, Dick. I won't say a word. I promise!" "Good! You'll probably see me before long. But don't recognize me. You'll be just one of the girls and it'll probably be necessary to include you in the round-up. I'll fix that later. Good-by," and with that he was off.[309] Not expecting that Carr would be able to complete his plans for at least a week, Louise was startled when the operative arrived at the dock on the following Monday morning. He had spent the previous day in Washington, arranging details, and his appearance at the company's office—while apparently casual—was part of the program mapped out in advance. What was more, Carr had come to the dock from the station, so as to prevent the "inside man" from flashing a warning of his arrival. Straight through the office he strode, his right hand swinging at his side, his left thrust nonchalantly in the pocket of his topcoat. Before he had crossed halfway to the door of the scale room he was interrupted by a burly individual, who demanded his business. "I want to see Mr. Derwent or Mr. Mahoney," replied Carr. "They're both engaged at present," was the answer. "Wait here, and I'll tell them." "Get out of my road!" growled the operative, pulling back the lapel of his coat sufficiently to afford a glimpse of his badge. "I'll see them where they are," and before the guardian of the scale house door had recovered from his astonishment Carr was well across the portals. The first thing that caught his eye was the figure of a man bending over the weight beam of one of the big scales, while another man was making some adjustments on the other side of the apparatus. Derwent, who was facing the door, was the first to see Carr, but before he could warn his companion, the special agent was on top of them. "Who are you? What business have you in here?" demanded the government weigher. "Carr is my name," replied Dick. "Possibly you've[310] heard of me. If so, you know my business. Catching sugar crooks!" Derwent's face went white for a moment and then flushed a deep red. Mahoney, however, failed to alter his position. He remained bending over the weight beam, his finger nails scratching at something underneath. "Straighten up there!" ordered Carr. "You—Mahoney—I mean! Straighten up!" "I'll see you in hell first!" snapped the other. "You'll be there soon enough if you don't get up!" was Carr's reply, as his left hand emerged from his coat pocket, bringing to light the blue-steel barrel of a forty-five. "Get—" Just at that moment, from a point somewhere near the door of the scale room, came a shrill, high-pitched cry—a woman's voice: "Dick!" it called. "Lookout! Jump!" Instantly, involuntarily, the operative leaped sidewise, and as he did so a huge bag of raw sugar crashed to the floor, striking directly on the spot where he had stood. "Thanks, Lou," called Carr, without turning his head. "You saved me that time all right! Now, gentlemen, before any more bags drop, suppose we adjourn uptown. We're less likely to be interrupted there," and he sounded a police whistle, which brought a dozen assistants on the run. "Search Mahoney," he directed. "I don't think Derwent has anything on him. What's that Mahoney has in his hand?" "Nothin' but a quarter, sir, an' what looks like an old wad o' chewin' gum." Puzzled, Carr examined the coin. Then the explanation of the whole affair flashed upon him as he investigated[311] the weight-beam and found fragments of gum adhering to the lower part, near the free end. "So that was the trick, eh?" he inquired. "Quite a delicate bit of mechanism, this scale—in spite of the fact that it was designed to weigh tons of material. Even a quarter, gummed on to the end of the beam, would throw the whole thing out enough to make it well worth while. I think this coin and the wad of gum will make very interesting evidence—Exhibits A and B—at the trial, after we've rounded up the rest of you." <hr style="width: 45%;" /> "And that," concluded Quinn, "is the story which lies behind that twenty-five-cent piece—probably the most valuable bit of money, judged from the standpoint of what it has accomplished, in the world." "Derwent and Mahoney?" I asked. "What happened to them? And did Carr succeed in landing the men higher up?" "Unfortunately," and Quinn smiled rather ruefully, "there is such a thing as the power of money. The government brought suit against the sugar companies implicated in the fraud and commenced criminal proceedings against the men directly responsible for the manipulation of the scales. (It developed that they had another equally lucrative method of using a piece of thin corset steel to alter the weights.) But the case was quashed upon the receipt of a check for more than two million dollars, covering back duties uncollected, so the personal indictments were allowed to lapse. It remains, however, the only investigation I ever heard of in which success was so signal and the amount involved so large. "Todd, of the Department of Justice, handled a big affair not long afterward, but, while some of the details[312] were even more unusual and exciting, the theft was only a paltry two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." "Which case was that?" "The looting of the Central Trust Company," replied the former operative, rising and stretching himself. "Get along with you. It's time for me to lock up." <hr style="width: 65%;" /> [313] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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