Эрл Гарднер - The Amazing Adventures of Lester Leith

Beaver said, “You might mention to Captain Carmichael that I furnished the idea.”

Sergeant Ackley stared at him with steady hostility. “ You furnished the idea!” he said. “Why, you insisted there wasn’t any clue. I was the one who kept telling you that it was in those photographs.”

“But I did mention the discrepancy between the three strips of adhesive tape in the one picture and the four in the other.”

Sergeant Ackley said, “I had noticed that and was debating whether to call your attention to it, Beaver. I pointed out to you that the key clue was contained in those pictures.”

“I see. It was all your idea.”

Sergeant Ackley folded the papers under his arm. “Of course it was my idea,” he said.

The valet entered the penthouse apartment to find Lester Leith, his head heavily bandaged, engaged in conversation with a gray-haired, rather fleshy woman in the middle sixties.

Lester Leith said to the woman, “Here’s my valet now, Mrs. Randerman. His name is Scuttle. You’ll find him very efficient. I believe he has another name for purposes of social security. What the devil is it? Woodchuck, Scuttle?”

“No, sir,” the spy said, his face flushing angrily.

“Weasel,” Lester Leith said. “That’s it. This is Mrs. Randerman, who’s going to act as my assistant in a business venture. You’ll carry out her instructions the same as you would my own, Scuttle.” The spy said, “Yes, sir. And the name’s Beaver, sir. B-e-a-v-e-r.”

Leith said, “To be sure, Scuttle. Beaver. Why didn’t I think of it?”

The spy said to Mrs. Randerman, “I shall consider it a privilege to serve you, madam,” and to Lester Leith: “May I ask, sir, what happened to your head?”

Leith raised delicately exploring fingertips to the bandage around his head. “A bit of a bump, Scuttle,” he said, “that’s all.”

“Should I call a doctor, sir?”

“Oh, dear no, Scuttle. It’ll be quite all right. I probably didn’t need the bandage, but you remember you’d purchased some bandage and adhesive tape.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I found that they came in handy,” Leith said, and then, with a smile for Mrs. Randerman, “Sort of Alice-in-Wonderland affair. My valet buys the bandage and adhesive tape, and an hour later I bump my head. Do you like soda in your Scotch, Mrs. Randerman?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Lots of it,” she said.

Leith nodded to the valet. “Two of them, Scuttle,” he said.

The spy mixed the drinks.

“Did you,” Leith asked him, “get the diamond rings and the pearl necklace, Scuttle?”

“I ordered them, yes, sir.”

Leith yawned. “Well, when they come up, send them back.”

The spy almost dropped the bottle he was holding. “Send them back, sir?” he echoed. “You mean that you don’t want them?”

“I’d hardly want them if I send them back, would I, Scuttle?”

“No, sir, but they’re already paid for. I can’t return them.”

Leith waved his hand in an airy gesture of dismissal. “In that case, Scuttle, we’ll take them, of course. Perhaps the janitor would care for them.”

“But I don’t understand, sir.”

“I’m quite sure you don’t, Scuttle,” Lester Leith said, “and I think Mrs. Randerman could stand just about one more jigger of that Scotch.”

“Yes, sir. I... it wasn’t anything I did, sir, was it?”

Leith smiled. “On the contrary, Scuttle, it was something I did. I intended to conduct a psychological experiment, using the bandage, the pearls, the diamonds, and one or two other bits of equipment, but this bump on the head caused me to use up the bandage. So we’ll just forget about the experiment.”

“But I can get more bandage, sir,” the spy said eagerly.

Leith stretched and yawned. “Oh, I don’t think it’s necessary, Scuttle,” he said. “I’ve been having so much trouble with Sergeant Ackley lately that I’m afraid he might misunderstand my purpose in conducting the experiment. And watch what you’re doing with that soda siphon, Scuttle.”

The spy, consumed with curiosity, served the drinks and sought to hover around in the vicinity of the living room where Lester Leith and Mrs. Randerman were discussing the theater, Leith listening with interest to the stories which Mrs. Randerman told of her vaudeville days.

But Leith spiked the valet’s guns by saying pointedly, “That’s all, Scuttle. We’ll ring if we want anything,” and the spy had no alternative but to withdraw to his quarters from which he immediately telephoned police headquarters, using the unlisted number through which undercover men were able to communicate directly with Sergeant Ackley.

Nor was Sergeant Ackley’s voice any too cordial as he said, “Okay, Beaver. What is it?”

The spy said, “He has the woman all right, a Mrs. Randerman, who was on the vaudeville stage at one time. You’d better look her up. But he’s countermanded the order on the imitation pearls and diamonds. He seems to have lost interest in the entire affair — and he’s used some of the bandage and adhesive tape to place a bandage around his head. He says that he had a bit of a bump.”

“Well,” Sergeant Ackley growled, “that was one screwy tip you gave me, Beaver. You’d better put a bandage around your own head.”

“What do you mean?”

Sergeant Ackley said, “Alcott hadn’t hidden any twenty-five thousand dollars in that bandage. That bandage covered a very real automobile accident. I passed that tip of yours on to Captain Carmichael, and he became as excited about it as you were. He dashed down to the man’s cell and ripped off the bandage, and then found he had to call a doctor to replace it. He told me to tell you not to jump at conclusions next time.”

The spy gripped the receiver. “You told Captain Carmichael it was my idea?”

Sergeant Ackley said tersely, “It was, wasn’t it?”

The spy thought for a minute. “Oh,” he said, “if you want to put it that way, I suppose it was.”

“It isn’t the way I want to put it,” Sergeant Ackley said. “I’m trying to get the facts, and I don’t like your attitude in trying to pass the buck, Beaver. That’s the trouble with the whole department — too many people trying to pass the buck.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Now then,” Sergeant Ackley barked, “the only chance we stand of breaking this case is to get Lester Leith’s brains working on it. Leith will solve the case and grab the money. We’ll grab Leith. It’s up to you to see that he doesn’t lose interest.”

“But he’s already lost interest,” the spy said.

“Well, get his interest back,” the sergeant said. “You may not know it, Beaver, but this is one sweet mess. Judge Mandeville thinks the police department was trying to frame him. The Click-Fast Shutter Company is trying to blame us, and Frank Boyen, their president, turns out to be a close friend of the mayor’s. You can see where that leaves us.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“I want to catch Lester Leith,” Sergeant Ackley said, “but that’s a minor matter compared with locating that twenty-five thousand bucks. If Judge Mandeville took it, we want to know it. We want to pin it on him. If he didn’t take it, we want to Find out who did.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“I told Captain Carmichael that I’d make it a point to devote my personal attention to the problem. You understand what that means.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“As a matter of fact, Beaver, your activities have been unduly prolonged. It’s one sweet mess when you can’t find out what’s going on under your very nose. I want some action! Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Get busy then,” Sergeant Ackley said, and banged up the telephone.