Эрл Гарднер - The Amazing Adventures of Lester Leith

Lester Leith watched the man with laughing eyes. The spy was huge, some six feet odd of hulking strength, and he moved with a ponderous stealth, like a stalking elephant. Lester Leith, on the other hand, was closely knit, feline, quick-moving.

“Scuttle,” he called.

The spy paused, his hand on the door.

“I wasn’t making sport of you,” drawled Lester Leith. “And since you seem inclined to doubt my statement, I’ve decided to show you just how a theoretical solution could be worked out with the aid of this wonderful canary and a kleptomaniac.

“Would you mind getting a cab, going to a bird store, and getting me a bird cage? I shall want a perfectly huge cage, Scuttle, one that has a diameter of at least four feet. And I’ll want a cover for it. Have the cover tailored to fit smoothly — something made of dark cloth so that the canary will get lots of rest. It’s very delicate, you know.

“I’ll attend to getting the kleptomaniac myself, Scuttle. And I’ll see my friend and borrow his flying bloodhound. And you may start now. Of course, you won’t breathe a word of this to Sergeant Ackley.”

And Lester Leith arose, flipped the cigarette into the fireplace, and strode toward his bedroom, leaving a gaping spy standing awkwardly, one hand on the door knob.

“But,” stammered the spy, “I don’t understand.”

“No one asked you to, Scuttle,” said Lester Leith, and slammed the bedroom door.

Bessie Bigelow glanced up at the man who sat in the taxicab, faultlessly tailored, wearing his evening clothes with an air of distinction.

“The bail,” she said, “was five grand.”

Lester Leith nodded, as though $5,000 was distinctly a minor matter.

“Plus about a thousand to pay the department store,” went on Bessie Bigelow.

Lester Leith nodded again.

Bessie reached over and placed a hand on his coat sleeve.

“Now listen, guy,” she pleaded. “I’m a good scout, but I’m a shoplifter and a pickpocket, and I ain’t nothing else. Don’t get me wrong. You come along and play Santa Claus for me, but that ain’t going to get you no place.

“I’m a crook, all right. I’ve worked the department stores and pulled the pickpocket stuff for a long time. I ain’t no kleptomaniac. Kleptomaniac, my eye! That’s a line of hooey the lawyer thought up for the judge, and the newspaper boys glommed onto it and made a big splurge about the beautiful woman who was in jail because she just couldn’t keep her hands to home.”

Lester Leith lit a cigarette. He hadn’t even glanced at the blonde who was rattling off the conversation at his side.

“Listen,” insisted the blonde, “if you’re playin’ Santa Claus with the idea that you’re gettin’ a blonde lady friend you got another guess comin’. And if you’re one of those settlement workers that always come around givin’ the girls a chance to reform, you got two more guesses cornin’.

“I ain’t goin’ to be a sweetie, and I ain’t goin’ to reform. I’m spillin’ it to you straight because you got a chance to go back an’ glom the coin you put up for bail and to reimburse the department store. I’ve done lots o’ things in my life, but I ain’t never obtained no money from a gent under false pretenses. I’m a girl that shoots right straight from the shoulder, that’s me.”

Lester Leith nodded.

“Very commendable, your frankness,” he muttered.

The girl snorted.

“Listen, guy, what do you want?”

Lester Leith turned to face her.

“I want your help.”

“In what?”

“In convincing the police that I am innocent of certain crimes they try to pin on me.”

The girl’s blue eyes widened.

“Now that,” she said judicially, “is a new one!”

Leith nodded.

“And what do I do?” she asked.

“You go to a hotel with me, and we get rooms, separate rooms, but rooms which adjoin,” said Lester Leith.

The girl yawned.

“Pardon me,” she said wearily.

“For yawning?” asked Lester Leith.

“Naw,” she drawled, “for thinking your line was a new one. From there on, big boy, I know it by heart.”

Lester Leith shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Well, go on,” she said, “and don’t hesitate in the rough places. Spill it and get it over with. Exactly what is it you want?”

“I want you to occupy this room, probably as my sister or niece,” said Lester Leith, “and I want you to come and go as you please. You will probably be followed by police, but that’s a minor matter. And I want you to curb your illicit activities as much as possible. Use a certain amount of discretion as to the pockets you pick. That’s all.”

The girl’s eyes were narrow, hard.

“Listen,” she said, “I hate a damned mealy mouthed hypocrite. Now you been pretty decent to me. So come clean. If that’s all, say so, and if it ain’t, say so.”

“That,” said Lester Leith, “is all.”

She sighed.

“Well,” she said, “I sure gotta hand it to you. If that’s all, you’re sure a new one.”

“Nevertheless, that is all,” said Lester Leith. “Only I want to warn you that the police will be watching you. If you do exactly as I say they can’t convict you of anything. If you fail to follow instructions you may get yourself into a rather tight fix.”

Bessie Bigelow nodded.

“Guy,” she proclaimed, “I like you, and I like the way you came across with the bail money. I’m going to do it.”

Lester Leith’s nod was rather impersonal.

“Thanks, Bessie,” he said.

The cab rumbled on in silence.

“Well,” said Bessie, rather ruefully, “if we’re going to be pals, I may as well start shooting square by giving you back your things.”

Her hand disappeared down the front of her dress, came out with something that glittered in the reflected street lights.

“Your watch,” she said.

Lester Leith took it unsmilingly.

“Thank you, Bessie.”

She regarded him with a puzzled expression.

“Didja know when I lifted it?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Within ten seconds after I got in the cab,” she said. “I sized you up as a settlement worker that was goin’ to pull a lot o’ hooey and wind up by having to be slapped to sleep, so I made up my mind I’d get mine while the gettin’ was good.”

Lester Leith returned the watch to his pocket.

“I don’t blame you,” he said.

Her next sigh was almost a groan.

“And your wallet,” she said. “It sure feels fat.”

She passed over his wallet.

“Take that after the watch?” asked Lester Leith with a note of respect in his voice.

“Naw,” she said. “I took that while you was talking with the bail clerk, right after you put up the six grand... listen, guy, you ain’t lost nothing but a thousand bucks, that’s what the department store took to square up the charge account. The rest of the money is simply bail, and they can’t make that shoplifting charge stick. They can’t identify the goods. I’ll stick right around and demand trial, and they’ll dismiss the case. Then your five grand comes back.”

Lester Leith muttered another word of thanks.

“And if you let me work that hotel we’re goin’ to, I’ll have your thousand back for you inside of a couple of weeks.”

Lester Leith shook his head.

“No, Bessie. While you’re with me, your play is to be the sad, penitent kleptomaniac who is taking treatments from a psychiatrist, having, however, occasional symptoms.”

“Okay,” she said. “You shoot square with me and I’ll shoot square with you.”

The cab drew up in front of the Palace Hotel.

Lester Leith assisted the girl to the ground. He indicated three bags to the doorman and stalked into the lobby. The clerk bowed obsequiously, spun the register, and handed him the desk pen.