Dell Shannon - Mark of Murder

As he walked up Temple a plainclothes detective was talking to the landlady in the house he had just left. "He had such a scarred face? What name did he give you?"

Just after four o'clock a very angry man burst in on Sergeant Lake and demanded, "This is the murder office, where they hunt the murderers? I will sue you all! Every man in the police I will sue! Infame! You call me a murderer, and it's a lie! You slander my good name!" He waved a copy of the Times in one hand and shook his other fist under Lake's nose. He was a little fat man about fifty, with a few strands of black hair plastered across a round bald head, a round olive-skinned face, and a pair of luxurious braggadocio mustaches. "Scoundrels!" he said richly. "I denounce you!"

Every man in the office heard him and came to find out what was happening. Mendoza said, "What's this all about?" and the little man swung to face him.

"Who is the chief man here? It is an outrage! My name you publish in the paper, and say it is that of this madman who kills children! I will sue you all-"

"Now just quiet down and come into my office, and let's hear all about this, Mr…?"

"Oh, you pretend you don't know my name! I am Tosci as you very well know- Francesco Tosci-isn't it plain to see in my own writing here? And I'm a respectable man, never in my life have I killed anyone-it is infamous!" He glared at Mendoza. "In all the newspapers, plain to be read, my name!"

Mendoza exchanged a glance with Palliser. "Let's see what you're talking about," said Mendoza.

Mr. Tosci was more than willing. He flung down the Times and with a shaking finger pointed out the reproduced illegible signature from the Liverpool Arms register. "My signature, it is-this I admit-but I do not kill people! It is-"

Mendoza and Palliser got him soothed down between them, with elaborate apologies, and Mr. Tosci sat down, sizzling only gently. Mr. Tosci was, it appeared, a barber, with his own shop over on Flower Street, and he had never so much as had a moving-violation ticket. He had not seen the newspapers today until a customer left a Times behind and, in tidying up, Mr. Tosci had picked it up and to his horror recognized the reproduced signature on the front page. He had rushed straight out, leaving the shop in his assistant's charge, to come here and accuse them of slander. He- "Libel," murmured Palliser.

"Me!" said Mr. Tosci. "My name all over the papers, and saying I am this fiend who-"

Mendoza apologized again. "But you were at that hotel that night, Mr. Tosci? You signed the register when?"

The little barber calmed down enough to explain. They would understand as fellow men that these things happened, it was a great pity but one was only human. He had had a little argument with his wife, and there had been a few hot words, and in the end Mr. Tosci had stormed out of the house and decided to spend the night at a hotel. "Women," said Mr. Tosci with a sigh. "Always the one word more. I thought by the next day she would be cooled down." He had gone to the Liverpool Arms more or less at random, and been given a room, spent an innocent night in it, and gone to his shop at nine the next morning, after having breakfast at a Manning's coffee shop on the way.

"And why you are thinking-"

"Yes," said Mendoza. "I want Telfer, and I want him now. Somebody go and get him! Now, Mr. Tosci, if you'll just wait a little and let me explain-"

"Who is this Telfer? It is an outrage--"

But they got him to wait, with explanation. Scarne went out in a hurry to pick up Telfer, who was located in his shabby room at the hotel, reading a sports sheet and drinking port. Scarne hustled him into his clothes and brought him in.

"That's the man," said Tosci instantly as Telfer was ushered into Mendoza's office. "He will say, he was the man I paid for the room, and he gave me the key."

"Well, Telfer!" said Mendoza. "Did this man come into the hotel the same night the Slasher did?"

Telfer looked acutely uneasy. "I-guess he did. Sure."

"You don't remember, do you?" Mendoza's tone was cold. "You don't remember because you were drunk. You were so drunk you pulled a complete blank. You carry it fine, you look just a bit high, but it was the hell of a lot more than that, wasn't it?"

The man licked his lips. "No, it wasn't-I was all right-I wouldn't do a thing like that, I promised Mr. Morley-"

"Oh, so you'd been found drunk on duty before?"

"No, I-only once,” said Telfer sullenly.

"You're going to stay here until you admit it," said Mendoza. "You were drunk. When Mr. Tosci here came in- What time?" he broke off to ask Tosci.

"It would have been about ten o'clock, sir."

"-you were still competent enough to get him to sign the register, give him a key. But when the Slasher came in, some time later, you were blind drunk. My God, you don't even know whether he came alone, do you? You said so, but he might have brought that first victim with him. Yes. You handed him a key at random, and he never signed the register at all. Did he? Look at me! Did you remember that you'd handed out two keys that night, to two different men, or was it a complete blank? Well?"

"No- I--you got it all wrong. There wasn't-it was just him, I remember all right-"

"Stop trying to cover up and let's hear the truth for a change! Do you remember anything about that night? Do you remember what room number you gave Mr. Tosci?"

"No, it's too far back, I-"

"It was number 118," said Tosci.

"Yes," said Mendoza, suppressing rage. The room where the body had been found was 214. As that had been the last signature in the register they'd taken it for granted it belonged to the Slasher. On Telfer's word.

"Damn you," he said rigidly, "do you know how much you've delayed us on this? Those other four victims are your direct responsibility! If you'd been in your right mind you could have given us a full description that next day, and ten to one we'd have got him within hours. How does it feel, Telfer, to be responsible for four murders? Two women, one of them pregnant, and a man and a little boy? They'd probably all be alive now, Telfer, if you hadn't been drunk that night! Do you realize that?"

"You can't lay it on me!" gulped Telfer. "I-that's not so-"

"You were drunk, weren't you? If you go on denying it, you know, I'm going to begin to think that you knew the other man-the Slasher-and had some reason to let him have a room without registering. Did you?"

"Jesus, no, I- All right, if I got to tell you, I guess I was high. Only for God's sake don't go telling Morley, or he'd throw me out! I didn't mean to, and it was the first time since- I'd had an awful bad headache all that day, see, and I thought maybe a couple glasses o' wine'd settle it, that's-"

"Medicinal purposes," said Mendoza sardonically. "You'd had a good deal more than that by the time Mr. Tosci came in, hadn't you? Do you remember him at all?"

Telfer looked at Tosci and said, "Kind of. Listen, you won't go telling old Morley, will-"

"I wouldn't doubt he'll be finding out for himself. Do you remember anything about the man who came in later on? Anything at all? Such as a scar on his face?"

Telfer suddenly came apart. "I mighta never seen him, I pulled a real blank-see, first I knew about that at all, when they found the body, and it was 214, and 214'd been empty last I knew-and there was this name on the register I didn't remember so I figured I musta waited on him sorta automatic- I never-"

"Didn't you know that two rooms had been rented overnight? The maids-"

"I don't go talking with them," said Telfer sullenly. "How would I know? I'm only on the desk at night. If there wasn't no other name on the book-"

"You don't remember anything at all about the second man?"