Erle Gardner - The Monkey Murder

There was a long pause while the undercover man waited, listening; and Sergeant Ackley remained thoughtfully silent.

“Well,” Beaver asked at length, “are you there, sergeant?”

“Yes, of course I’m here,” Sergeant Ackley said. “What else, Beaver?”

“What else? Isn’t that enough? I’ve got it all doped out. That’s the manner in which—”

“I think you’re getting unduly excited over a very obvious matter, Beaver,” Sergeant Ackley said. “ I had figured all that out just as soon as you told me Leith insisted upon a secretary who was an inveterate gum chewer and a promiscuous parker.”

“Oh,” the undercover man said, and then after a moment added: “I see. You thought of it first.”

“That’s right,” Sergeant Ackley said. “By the way, Beaver, how did you happen to think of it?”

“I just thought it out,” the spy said wearily.

“No, no, Beaver. Now don’t hang up. There must have been something which brought the idea to your mind.”

“I reasoned it out,” the spy said.

“ But something must have given you a clue.”

“What was it gave you your clue?” the undercover man asked.

“ I ,” Sergeant Ackley said with dignity, “have risen to greater heights in my profession than you have, Beaver. It stands to reason that my mind is trained to arrive at conclusions more rapidly than yours. Also, I have more time for concentration. You were busy with your duties as valet. I feel certain that something must have given you the tipoff. Now what was it? Don’t be insubordinate, Beaver.”

“Oh, all right,” the undercover man said wearily. “I happened to find where Leith had been rehearsing the secretary. He’d given her a wad of gum and a piece of green glass about the size of a good big emerald. She’d practiced sticking the gum on the under side of a chair arm, and then slipping the emerald up into the chewing gum. Evidently, they’re rehearsing an act they’re going to put on later.”

“You should have told me that ,” Sergeant Ackley said reproachfully, “as soon as you had me on the line, and not tried to make a grand-stand with a lot of deductive reasoning. Don’t let it happen again, Beaver. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” the spy said, as he dropped the receiver into its cradle.

Evelyn Rae was standing by the train gate when Lester Leith arrived. Her jaws were swinging with the rhythmic ease of a habitual gum chewer. Despite the fact that it was only two minutes before train time, she showed no nervousness whatever, but raised her eyes to Lester Leith and said casually:

“Hello, there. I was wondering if you were going to leave me at the altar.”

“Hardly,” Leith said, “but I’ve been rather busy. Here, give your bags to this redcap. Let’s go.”

The conductor was yelling, “All aboard,” as Leith grabbed Evelyn Rae’s arm and rushed her through the gates. And as soon as the porter had juggled the baggage through behind them, the gateman snapped the brass chain into position, and swung the big doors shut — the seven-twenty limited had officially departed. Actually it waited for Leith and his newly-employed secretary to get aboard before lurching into creaking motion.

Leith settled down in the drawing room, opened his bag, and took out a case of chewing gum in assorted flavors. “I want you,” he said, “to try these and see which you prefer.”

Back in the depot, a plain-clothes man telephoned ahead to Sergeant Ackley, who was waiting at Ninety-third Street. “O.K., sergeant,” he said, “You’ve got thirty minutes to get things fixed up and get aboard. Your drawing room is all reserved.”

“He took the train?” Sergeant Ackley asked.

“He’s aboard all right. He played it pretty slick. He had his watch set right to the second, and waited to be certain he and the girl were the last people through the gates. He did that so you couldn’t follow him aboard the train, but he overlooked the fact that it stopped at Ninety-third Street.”

“Well, I haven’t overlooked it,” Sergeant Ackley said gloatingly. “The time will come when that crook will realize that he’s fighting a master mind. It’s only luck that’s enabled him to slip through my fingers so many times before. When it comes to brains, I’ll match mine with his any day in the week.”

“Atta boy, sergeant!” the detective exclaimed approvingly, dropped the receiver into place, and then, running out his tongue, showered the transmitter with a very moist but heartfelt razzberry.

Lester Leith took off his shoes, put on bedroom slippers, hung up his coat and vest, slipped into a lounging robe, and took a book from his suitcase.

Evelyn Rae watched him with cautious, appraising eyes. As Lester Leith became engaged in his book, she slowly settled back against the cushions.

Leith rang for the porter, ordered a table, and when it was placed in position in between the seats, put the case of chewing gum on it.

Evelyn Rae moistened her thumb and forefinger, slipped out the wad of gum she had been chewing, and absent-mindedly pushed it against the under side of the table. She tore open a package of Juicy Fruit and fed two sticks into her mouth, one after the other.

“Pretty good stuff,” she said, between chews. “This must be pretty fresh.”

Leith said: “It’s direct from the wholesalers, and they say it left the factory less than a week ago.”

After she had chewed for several minutes, Leith said: “I’d like to have you try some of that Doublemint and then contrast that flavor with the pepsin.”

“O.K.,” she said. “Give me a few more minutes with this. I haven’t got the good out of it yet.”

The train rumbled along through the darkness. Evelyn Rae began to make herself at home.

“Gotta magazine or anything?” she asked.

Leith nodded, and took several magazines from his suitcase. She settled down with a motion-picture magazine to casual reading. Soon she became interested.

“Don’t forget that Doublemint,” Leith said.

“I won’t,” she told him, and pressed the chewed Juicy Fruit against the under side of the table.

At Ninety-third Street, Sergeant Ackley gave last-minute instructions to the undercover man and two detectives who were pacing the platform.

“Now listen,” Ackley said. “Remember he may be looking out of the window, or he may get out and walk up and down the platform. We’ve got to get aboard without him seeing us. You two birds stand out on the platform when you hear the train coming. He doesn’t know you. His reservation is Drawing Room A in Car D57. You two get aboard, go on back to that car and make sure he’s in his drawing room. Then signal with your flashlight, and Beaver and I will come aboard and go directly to our drawing room which is in D56, the car ahead. Do you get me?”

“O.K., sergeant,” the older of the two detectives said.

“Get ready,” Sergeant Ackley warned. “Here she comes.”

A station bell clanged a strident warning. The big yellow headlight of the thundering locomotive loomed up out of the darkness. Passengers for the limited swirled into little excited groups, exchanging last farewells as travelers picked up their baggage.

The big limited train rumbled into the station. While Sergeant Ackley and Beaver hid in the waiting room, the two detectives spotted Lester Leith’s stateroom, flashed a go-ahead signal, and the officers dashed aboard. The brass-throated bells clanged their warning, and the long line of Pullmans creaked into motion.

In Drawing Room A in Car D57, Lester Leith merely glanced at his wrist watch, then took a cigarette from the hammered silver case in his pocket, tapped it on his thumbnail, and snapped a match into flame.