Лоуренс Трит - Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 118, No. 6, April 16, 1938

These men were the government’s aces in a war against business rackets, just as the men of the FBI were its aces in the war against underworld crime.

True, the FTC lacked glamor. Unless you could see the glamor in forcing poisonous tonics and contaminated foodstuffs off the American market. Unless there was glamor in keeping shifty schemers from stealing people’s money with false advertising of phony products.

All of this flashed through Stan’s mind in an instant. Then he closed the wallet and handed it back to Worthington. “But what are you doing here?”

The FTC investigator shrugged. “I’ve told you twice, I won’t answer that — except to the police.”

“But look, Worthington,” said Stan quickly. “I’m not the night watchman, as you seem to think. I don’t work for the Randt company at all. And what’s more, I don’t intend to hand you over to the police.”

The other’s blue eyes narrowed in a frown. “Well!” he said. “Then what in the devil are you doing here?”

Stan Baxter smiled. Events had taken an unpredictable turn — the kind of a turn the police would call “the break” in the case. He meant to make the most of that break, and to do so he had to win the blond man’s confidence. It was a vital step.

He said: “Frankly, I have no business in the plant. I’m as much of a trespasser here as you are. My name is Baxter. I’m Lois Callum’s lawyer. You surely know that she’s been arrested for the murder of her uncle?”

“Yes, sir,” said the blond man. “I read that in the papers.”

“Then you also read that the police want you as a witness?”

“I know.” Worthington’s lips tightened. “It happens that I can’t tell the police anything of importance. My work is extremely confidential. I wanted to avoid publicity, at least for a day or so. The circumstances were unusual, and I took it upon myself to say nothing. After all, there’s no doubt the girl did kill Callum, is there?”

“I doubt it,” said Stan grimly.

“Speaking as her lawyer?”

“No. Speaking as man to man. I think she’s innocent, and I expect you to help me prove it.”

The blond man did not attempt to disguise his amazement. “Oh! In that case, naturally I’ll report to the authorities at once! I only kept silent because I thought Miss Callum’s guilt was unquestionable. And, as I say, because I knew nothing whatever about the murder.”

Stan grunted. “But it won’t do any good for you to report to the police.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because they think her guilt is unquestionable,” said Stan. “Because your story won’t mean a thing to them.”

The FTC man studied Stan Baxter searchingly. He shook his head slowly.

“I’m sorry, Baxter. What you are saying doesn’t make sense to me.”

Stan said: “All right, it doesn’t make sense to you . But will you trust me, anyway? Will you? — remembering that a girl’s life depends on your decision? For this means life or death to Lois Callum.”

The words were impressive, and even more impressive was the manner in which Stan voiced them.

“No decent man could say no, ” replied the blond man. “But wait a moment, Mr. Baxter. Your name is familiar — I saw that in the newspapers, too. But can you prove your identity? How do I know that you are Baxter?”

Stan nodded. “I was a private detective before I became an attorney. I carry a permit and a pistol license. Here they are.”

“These papers could have been stolen,” said Worthington. He drew a fountain pen from his coat, and took a scrap of wrapping paper from the packing box. “Will you sign your name here?”

“Sure!”

The blond man carefully compared the freshly written signature with those on the permit and license.

“Thank you,” he said gravely. “The precaution seemed necessary to me. Now, what do you want to know?”

Stan drew a long breath of relief. “First,” he said, “I’ve got to know why you went to Callum’s home last night.”

Worthington nodded. “I was sent there by Frank Kendall. Mr. Kendall recently filed a complaint with the Commission, alleging that his Ameroptic Company was suffering unfair competition from the Randt Camera Company. The investigation was assigned to me. I called on Kendall yesterday morning, and he arranged an appointment for me to meet Callum.”

“Why?”

“Kendall claimed Callum had some evidence against Randt.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” said Stan. “Callum told me the same story. But did you actually see any such evidence?”

The blond man frowned thoughtfully.

“I wouldn’t call it evidence . Not so far as the Commission was concerned. Callum took me into his study. He opened his safe and got out a bundle of papers. They were freight records, and they tended to show the volume of Randt’s business. But they did not directly concern the complaint I was investigating.”

“Those records,” said Stan musingly. “Did Callum hand them over to you?”

“No. He hardly allowed me to touch them,” said Worthington. “I got the idea he intended to wring a lot of money out of someone for them — either Kendall or Randt. The whole thing had a fishy look to me.”

“Did he put them back in the safe, then?”

“No, not that, either. My recollection is that they remained on the desk. I remember he covered them with a paperweight. There was quite a draught from the window.”

Stan said, “You stayed there how long?”

“About twenty minutes, more or less. It was longer than I wanted to stay,” muttered the blond man. “Callum was very eager for the FTC to take action against Randt. You can see why. He thought it would make those papers of his just so much more valuable.”

Stan reflected. “You must have left the house five or ten minutes before the shooting occurred.”

“Yes. I judge so, by the newspaper accounts.”

“And tonight you went to see Julius Randt?”

“Correct,” nodded Worthington. “I went there early in the evening, because l understood he received no one during the day. It had something to do with his health — asthma, I think.”

“Why did you go to him?”

“It was routine,” said Worthington, “I asked Mr. Randt about the complaint. He denied it. In fact, he all but had me thrown out of his house. He accused me of being in league with Kendall and Callum.”

“Hot-headed, eh?”

“Of course, it was a serious matter for him,” the blond man said quietly. “If anything like that could be proved, it would ruin the company. No retailer would ever take chances on stocking a Randt product again.”

“Yeah,” Stan said. “Is it that bad?”

Worthington’s fingers drummed slowly on the packing box. “It is every bit as bad as that. You can see why I wanted to keep the investigation secret. I didn’t want to start any rumors until I knew all the facts.”

He paused for a moment, then said: “Kendall’s complaint charged the Randt company with fraud. The Randt camera is advertised to be equipped with a Clarex lens. Kendall claims that a large percentage of the output is really equipped with a less expensive and inferior Japanese lens.”

This interested Stan, He reflected that Judge Elmore had called Callum’s suit absurd, because the reported camera sales corresponded exactly with the purchases of Clarex lenses. But if some of the cameras were equipped with another lens, then the stockholders were certainly being rooked.

“Well,” he asked, “is that possible?”

Worthington nodded.

“Oh, yes. Only an expert could tell the difference — at first. But these inferior lenses are put together — they consist of a number of pieces of glass, you know — with a synthetic cement in. stead of balsam. After a year or so, the stuff discolors badly. And the lens is then worthless.”