Erle Gardner - The Seven Sinister Sombreros

Captain Andrew Carmichael said, “Thanks,” and nodded significantly to Sergeant Ackley.

Lester Leith heard the sound of the siren, looked up from the automobile, took off his big ten-gallon hat, and wiped his perspiring forehead.

“Quite a drag on your head,” he said to Harry Lanten with a grin.

The thin cowpuncher said: “Oh, you get used to ’em after a while. They seem heavy at first, but they protect your head and neck. After you once get accustomed to them, you wouldn’t ever wear anything else.”

“I think mine’s bigger than yours,” Leith said. “Let’s see those brims for a minute.”

Lanten removed his big cowboy hat, passed it over to Leith who held the hats together, turned them over, and said:

“Nope. They’re as like as peas in a pod. Tell you what you do, Harry. Jump in that car, go down the street until you find a garage. Send a man back here to repair this car, then you and Miss Kapiolani go down to the Crestview Hotel at Lakewood. Put your car in a garage, and you two wait until I get in touch with you. Don’t try to communicate with me under any circumstances. Here’s three hundred dollars for expense money. Get started right away.”

“Gee,” Lanten said, “this is a funny kind of a job—”

“Get started right away,” Leith said.

“O. K.” Lanten grinned. He walked to the car ahead, said to Nano Kapiolani, “Wait until you hear the news.”

They drove away just as the big police car came rocketing down the street.

Lester Leith looked up as tires protested the sudden application of brakes. For a moment, he seemed puzzled, then his eyes flashed into smiling recognition.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “You certainly made a quick run of it, sergeant! Where were you when you got my message? The man said you were out on an important case.”

Sergeant Ackley pushed open the door of the car and stepped to the pavement. He was followed by Captain Carmichael.

“What are you up to now?” he asked.

Lester Leith frowned. “Sergeant,” he said, “I really wish you wouldn’t cultivate such a constant attitude of belligerent suspicion. As a private citizen, I have uncovered information which, I think, should be of interest to the police. I immediately telephoned police headquarters, and asked that the information be relayed to you. I see no reason for you to adopt—”

“What’s this about telephoning headquarters?” Captain Carmichael asked.

Lester Leith indicated the drugstore. “The call went in from there,” he said, “not over three minutes ago. Step in and verify it if you don’t believe it. However, sergeant, unless you received the call, I don’t know how the devil you could possibly have known where to find me.”

Captain Carmichael and Sergeant Ackley exchanged glances.

Sergeant Ackley said to the driver of the police car, “Step in that drugstore, Bill, and check up on it.” He turned back to Lester Leith. “Any time you voluntarily report anything to the police!” he said sneeringly.

Captain Carmichael interposed. “Just a moment, sergeant,” he said. “After all, Leith is a citizen and a taxpayer. Moreover, he’s a prominent citizen. Let’s hear his side of the story before we start any browbeating.”

Sergeant Ackley grunted.

Leith said: “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, sir.”

“I’m Captain Carmichael,” Carmichael said.

Leith stepped forward and shook hands. Sergeant Ackley, standing on the side lines, snorted, took the cigar from his mouth, spat contemptuously into the gutter.

Leith said: “Quite recently, captain, I became interested in the interpretation of nature through the Polynesian dances, and in particular through the Hawaiian hula dance. My interest was aroused when I advertised for hula dancers who—”

“Why did you advertise for them?” Captain Carmichael asked.

Lester Leith grinned and said: “Because I had an idea it might be possible to work out a purely academic solution of the Bonneguard safe robbery by the use of hula dancers.”

Sergeant Ackley snapped to swift attention. “What’s that?” he asked.

Lester Leith ignored him. “You see, captain,” he explained, “I understood that a man by the name of Wolganheimer had been keeping company with a Hawaiian dancer named Io Wahine. I had never met Miss Wahine myself, but I thought perhaps that by taking an interest in Hawaiian dances, I would find some other dancers who could gain her confidence and who would in turn find out certain things for me.”

“Did it work?” Captain Carmichael asked ominously.

“I don’t know,” Lester Leith said, “whether it would work or not. To be perfectly frank with you, captain, I’m not doing it for myself, but merely to win an absurd argument with my valet, a most unusual chap by the name of Beaver. I developed the situation until, as a natural result, he was brought into contact with Miss Wahine, the young woman, who I am satisfied holds the key clue to the case. I’m now leaving Beaver with her and waiting for developments. I think it won’t be long until Beaver comes to me and admits I was right. It’s all rather petty, perhaps, but Beaver’s taking an interest in criminal matters, and I want to encourage him as much as possible.”

The driver of the police car came out of the drugstore and nodded.

“That’s right,” he said. “A thin guy with a cowpuncher’s hat came in and telephoned, said he was telephoning on behalf of Lester Leith, and wanted to get in touch with Sergeant Ackley and report something Leith had discovered.”

Sergeant Ackley frowned. Captain Carmichael inquired:

“What was it you found, Leith?”

“I purchased this car as an investment,” Leith said. “I came to the conclusion that this particular model offered a very remarkable actual value, far in excess of its so-called ‘blue book’ listing. So I bought several of these cars. On this one, I happened to have a flat. I started to change the tire, as you will notice, and then tried to put on the spare tire. What do you think I found?”

“What did you find?” Carmichael asked.

Lester Leith led them around to the back of the car and indicated the spare tire and the section which had so cunningly been built into it.

“Evidently, captain,” he said naively, “this car must have been used by a smuggler. Now it occurs to me that you may want to check back on the registration and find out just who had it.”

Captain Carmichael exchanged glances with Sergeant Ackley.

“Let’s take a look,” the captain said. “And you, Bill, skip in and call the motor vehicle department. Tell them we want some fast action. How long have you had this car, Leith?”

“Not over twenty-four hours.”

“You have a bill of sale and assignment of—”

“Oh, yes,” Lester Leith said, producing several documents from his pocket.

“How many of these cars did you buy?” Captain Carmichael asked.

“I don’t know. Five or six, I think.”

Sergeant Ackley came storming forward.

“Oh, what the hell’s the use of stalling around?” he said. “Leith has some scheme to get the dough. He wants to give us a run-around and is trying to make suckers of us.”

“Just a minute, sergeant,” Captain Carmichael interrupted sternly. “There’s only one way to prove a case, and that’s by getting proof. When you can furnish proof that a man’s a criminal, arrest him. Until you can, he’s a citizen and a taxpayer and entitled to courteous consideration. Shut up!”

Lester Leith smiled gratefully.

Captain Carmichael, checking through the documents, said: “But you don’t seem to have anything covering this car, Mr. Leith.”