Jon Breen: Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 114, No. 3 & 4. Whole No. 697 & 698, September/October 1999

Finally he did come strutting in, dapper and handsome and pleased with the world. “Ah, Callie,” he said, beaming at her as he sat down behind his desk. “That was a nice piece of work last night. Good show.”

She mumbled something.

“I’m glad to wrap this one up. Memotek will be pleased to learn who their culprit is.”

Will be pleased? “Wait a minute — you haven’t told them yet?”

He laughed easily. “It was rather late when you reported in. I’m going to call the CEO now.”

“You haven’t alerted the harbor patrol?”

“To do what? Our job is finished. We were hired to find out who the smuggler at Memotek is, and we’ve done that. Now, I want you to go write your report — five copies, you know the drill.”

She was gaping at him. “I don’t believe this! You’re just going to let the whole thing drop? That chip’s on its way to Germany. If we don’t stop it from leaving now, Memotek’s lost another bundle!”

“That’s up to Memotek,” he said sharply. “Don’t argue with me, Callie. Go write that report.”

She was in a daze as she left. The legal machinery for handling the Sofia situation should have been put into operation last night. What the hell was the matter with Kevin?

Then she stopped short. No. The real question was: What was the matter with her? What did she care whether the Bass Agency did the job right or not? Why should she worry that Memotek might not get its chip back? How did she get so involved in this case? It was nothing to her.

Write the report.

Callie stopped by the employees’ kitchen for a cup of coffee that she took with her into the ops’ room, a windowless square with a few chairs and tables with typewriters; no computers for the operatives. And one sofa, on which one of the other Memotek ops was snoring away. Callie sat down at one of the typewriters.

A hunt-and-peck typist, she started plugging away. Thirty minutes later she gave the finished report to one of the secretaries and went home to catch up on her sleep.

The ringing phone woke her; her watch said a quarter to two.

It was Kevin Craig. “Get back in here,” he ordered. “There’s been a development.”

“What development?” Callie asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Hal Stanwyck’s been murdered. His body was found floating under a pier this morning.”

That shocked her awake. “I’ll be right there.”

She took a quick shower before grabbing the printout of the Sofia’s record and driving in to the Atlantic Building, a sense of outrage growing in her all the while. You didn’t murder the Hal Stanwycks of the world; you just slapped their wrists. And why would the chip-smugglers kill the goose that laid the golden eggs?

Unless... that argument Stanwyck had with the Chinese woman in Chung’s Palace. Had Stanwyck demanded too much? Had he threatened to expose her if he was not given a bigger cut? He’d turned over the chip in the end, but the Chinese couple — or whoever gave them their orders, more likely — might have decided that this loose-lipped malcontent was just too big a risk to the operation.

Kevin Craig was waiting in his office, looking like a thunderstorm about to break. “Shut the door.”

She shut the door and asked, “How was he killed?”

“Garroted. It must have happened shortly after you reported in for the second time last night. Where was Stanwyck the last time you saw him?”

Under Chung’s dragon . “In the club where he handed over the chip. He and the Chinese woman argued — he probably wanted more money. But he was still there when she left.”

“So why would he hang around the waterfront after he’d made the transfer?”

Callie shrugged. “Waiting for his payoff? The woman didn’t hand him anything.”

Kevin bit his bottom lip. “Could be. But that’s the police’s business, not ours. We have a different problem.” He glowered at her. “You should have told me you’d already researched the Sofia,” he said snappishly.

“But—”

“I had to learn it from Gail Forrester! But never mind that now. Memotek wants to stop that computer chip from leaving Port Wolfe.”

“I told you that this morning.”

He chose not to hear. “Mr. Bass and the Memotek CEO are conferring right now. They’re looking into a search warrant and for legal ways to stop the Sofia from sailing—”

“That’s not an immediate problem. She’s a crippled ship. The Sofia won’t be going anywhere right away.” Callie handed him the printout of the harbor master’s record.

He read through it quickly and grunted. “That buys us some time. I never thought that CEO could get so antsy. He wants that chip on his desk right now.”

So Kevin had gotten chewed out for not reporting immediately last night. Callie didn’t murmur any comforting phrases.

Kevin leaned back in his chair, tapping a forefinger against his chin. “If we play this right, we ought to bring in all of them. Memotek ought to be grateful if we put the smuggling ring out of business. Can you identify the Chinese couple?”

“Sure. They sell jade in China Alley. They’re the ones who killed Stanwyck, you know. Or the man did, rather. The woman’s kind of small to garrote a good-sized fellow like Stanwyck.”

Kevin lifted the corner of his mouth in what came close to being a sneer. “How can you possibly know he killed Stanwyck?”

“Look, this isn’t a big gang we’re dealing with here,” Callie said. “Only four people are involved in the chip smuggling. Hal Stanwyck, the two Chinese, and someone aboard the Sofia. The man on the ship would never even have seen Stanwyck — he wouldn’t know what he looked like. So he just told the jade seller to take care of it.”

“Hmm. Well, we’re not being paid to finger a killer. Let the police worry about that.” He suddenly leaned forward. “This is what we’re going to do. Tonight you and I are going to board the Sofia and steal back that computer chip.”

Callie gaped. “I’ve got to get my hearing checked. I would have sworn you said we were going to board the Sofia.”

“It’s the simplest way to wind this thing up. While the CEO and Mr. Bass are fussing with warrants, we just go get the chip. No one will be expecting that.”

“Kevin,” she said hotly, “that is about the stupidest thing I have ever heard! It’s a freighter, for crying out loud! You know — a great... big... ship.”

“We don’t have to search the entire ship. Just the crew’s quarters.”

“Uh-huh. And if you had a computer chip potentially worth millions, you’d just leave it in your quarters? You’d carry it with you all the time!”

He didn’t like that. “No, I’d conceal it somewhere. In case I was searched.”

Callie was exasperated. “Kevin, this is downright lamebrained. I know you’re in hot water because you didn’t follow up last night, but this is no way to put things right! There’s a guy on the Sofia who ordered a man’s death, in case you’ve forgotten! Not to mention the fact that sneaking aboard a ship is against the law. And that’s another thing — how do you plan to get on board? The Sofia’s parked out in the bay.”

He showed her his teeth. “That, I’m happy to say, is your job.”

“My job!”

“Mr. Bass told us you had connections all over the waterfront. So, use those connections. Get us aboard the Sofia.”

Thank you very much, Mr. Large-Mouth Bass. Callie argued with Kevin some more, but he wouldn’t budge. He finally got tired of listening to her call him an idiot and pulled rank on her. They were going, and that was that.