Daniel Stashower - The Dime Museum Murders

"So can I," Mr. Graff agreed, "but only one or two who could afford it. I offered Mr. Harrington a few names, but he suggested that we might do better to deal with wealthy collectors, rather than magicians, as he might have one or two other items for disposal." "How many other items?"

"Forty-three."

"All from the Blois collection?"

"Every one."

Harry and I looked at each other. "Then it's true," he said.

"Yes," Mr. Graff said quietly. "The collection exists, and Mr. Harrington wanted me to arrange the sale."

"What did you do?"

"Naturally I sent a message to Harry Kellar. After all, the man is the greatest magician in the entire world-''

"With one notable exception," Harry said. "Well, Ehrich, you must admit that Kellar is certainly the most successful magician working today. Your own talents have yet to find their proper audience."

"This is so."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Kellar found himself unable to entertain the possibility of purchasing the Blois collection. He has not always had the best of luck with his investments, and it seems his resources are not what they might be just now." Mr. Graff walked to his bunk and sat down. "So naturally I decided to approach my two wealthiest customers-''

"Branford Wintour and Michael Hendricks," Harry offered.

"You know Mr. Hendricks as well?" "We met him this evening."

"A fascinating man. As I said, only he and Mr. Win-tour possess the funds required for such a transaction." I looked up from my notepad. "Surely this would also have occurred to Harrington?''

"Obviously," Mr. Graff said. "But Mr. Wintour and Mr. Hendricks do not open their doors to every passing dealer with a knick-knack to sell. I have dealt with both men many times. They trust my judgement, and prefer to make their acquisitions through me. Mr. Wintour, you may have heard, is especially careful in this regard. He is-was, I should say-considered something of a recluse."

Harry gripped the bars of his cell. "When we spoke to Mr. Hendricks, he made no mention of having been approached by you."

"I did not approach him. Mr. Harrington suggested that I meet with Mr. Wintour first to hear what he was prepared to pay for the lot. Then I was to call on Mr. Hendricks and see if he would be willing to raise the offer."

"A bidding war," Harry said. "Who knows how high the price might have gone?"

"Indeed. And having set my commission at three per cent, I was naturally eager to find out. I arranged a meeting with Mr. Wintour at four o'clock this afternoon."

"The last to see him alive," Harry murmured.

"Certainly not," Mr. Graff said with some heat. "The man who killed him would have been the last to see him alive."

"Of course," Harry said quickly. "It is merely an expression. How did Mr. Wintour respond when you showed him Le Fant ф me?"

"He received me with the greatest possible courtesy, as always. He arranged for tea and a platter of herring canapes which he knows I especially enjoy. A true gentleman."

"No doubt, but-"

"1 believe the herring is cured in aspic, which is what makes it so delicious."

"But the automaton? How did he react to Le Fant ф me?" '

"He was besotted. He thanked me extravagantly for having brought it to him, and expressed the greatest possible eagerness to acquire the rest of the collection." "Did he make an offer?"

"A most generous one, in my view. I would be very surprised if even Mr. Hendricks could have matched it. Of course, I did not even have the chance to contact him before"-he gestured at the dank walls of the cell block-"before I found myself here."

"Was it your impression that Mr. Harrington would accept Mr. Wintour's offer?" Harry asked.

"I did not have any means of communicating with him. It seems he had travelled up from Philadelphia, and came directly to my shop from the train station. He had not yet even taken a hotel room. He told me he would return to hear Mr. Wintour's offer on Wednesday evening at the same time." "Tomorrow," Harry said.

"Indeed." Mr. Graff cast a forlorn eye at his surroundings. "I do not expect to be able to keep our appointment."

"You have told all this to the police?" "Of course, but I'm not certain they believed me. I was not able to supply much in the way of useful information concerning Mr. Harrington. The police said they would send a man 'round to check the hotel registers, but I doubt if they will locate him."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"In my business, one's clients are sometimes less than candid about their circumstances. Mr. Harrington is not the first client I have ever dealt with who appeared late at night, so as to avoid unwanted attention. Often they are financially embarrassed, and do not wish to attract the attention of their wives and their creditors. I do not think the police will find Mr. Evan Harrington's name on any hotel register."

"Evan Harrington?" I closed my notebook.

"Yes. Do you know him, Theodore?"

"It's the title of a novel by George Meredith."

Mr. Graff sighed heavily. "It was probably the first thing that came into his mind. Too bad he was not a fan of Mr. Twain. Those names I would have recognized." He took out a pocket square and dabbed at his eyes. "And I am likely to remain here until the police locate this man, whomever he might be."

"Dash and I will find him, Mr. Graff," Harry said. "You may rest assured of that."

"Thank you, Ehrich. You are a good boy."

"What time were you supposed to meet with him?"

"Eleven o'clock, but if he's involved in this business, I don't expect he will keep the appointment."

"We'll find him in either case," Harry promised.

"One last thing," I said. "When you left Mr. Win-tour, Le Fant ф me remained in his possession?"

"He insisted on it. He indicated that he was going to have it examined to confirm its authenticity. I arranged to collect it from him in the morning."

"Did Mr. Wintour give you any reason to feel that he might be afraid in any way? Looking back, do you have any reason to imagine he might have feared for his life?"

Mr. Graff stroked his beard before responding. "I do not know if it is significant, but there was a phone call while we were talking. I offered to excuse myself, but Mr. Wintour asked me to wait. I walked away from the desk to give him some privacy. He has a marvelous collection of books, which I took the occasion to admire. I did not hear all of what was being said, but his tone made it clear that it was not entirely pleasant."

"Perhaps someone was threatening him?"

"I did not get that impression. Mr. Wintour was a very powerful man. Such men make enemies. When he finished the telephone call, however, he said a curious thing."

"Oh?"

"He said, 'Graff, my friend, never do business with family."'

"Good advice," I said, with a sidelong glance at Harry.

"Possibly," Mr. Graff said. "But whom can one trust if not family?"

"Very true," Harry agreed. "And now, if you will excuse us, Mr. Graff, my brother and I should be getting along."

"Thank you for your time, sir," I said. "Harry, do you want me to bang on the bars for Sergeant O'Donnell?"

"I don't think that will be necessary, Dash."

"No? I don't see that the lock has moved any closer while we've been talking."

"Has it not? I think perhaps it has." He began to unfasten his trousers.

"Harry? I don't mean to be indelicate, but what-?"

"I have a length of coiled watch-spring strapped to my leg. It should extend my reach just enough to reach the lock, and give me enough flexibility to work the pick."

"Suppose O'Donnell had searched you?"

"He would have found it easily," Harry admitted. "That is a problem for tomorrow. First, I must conquer the lock, then I will worry about concealing the spring." Hugging the wall closest to the lock, Harry extended his right arm through the bars as far as he could reach, which left his fingertips a good yard or so from the lock. He pulled his arm back and coiled one end of the watch spring around the end of a stout, double-diamond lock-pick.