Эрл Гарднер - The Amazing Adventures of Lester Leith

“The police, of course, are coming down pretty hard on Blaire and Springer, eh, Scuttle?”

“Yes, sir, because it would have been almost impossible for anyone to have entered that room without the connivance of one of the watchmen. And then again, sir, the fact that the murder was timed to take place when the watchmen were changing their shift would seem to indicate that either Blaire was a party to the crime, and fixed the time so that he could put the blame on Springer, or that Springer was the guilty one, and had committed the crime just as soon as he came on duty so that suspicion would attach to Blaire.”

“Rather a neat problem, I should say,” said Lester Leith. “One that will keep Sergeant Ackley busy.”

“Yes, sir,” said the valet, “and it just goes to show how ingenious the Hindus are.”

“Yes,” said Lester Leith dreamily, “it’s a very ingenious murder — save for one thing.”

The valet’s eyes glistened with eagerness.

“What,” he asked, “is that one thing, sir?”

“No, no, Scuttle,” he said. “If I should tell you, that would be violating the pact which I have made with myself. I have determined that I wouldn’t work out any more academic crime solutions.”

“I would like very much, sir,” said the valet coaxingly, “to know what that one thing is.”

Lester Leith took a deep breath.

“No, Scuttle,” he said. “Do not tempt me.”

Lester Leith reclined in the long chair, his feet crossed on the cushions, his eyes watching the cigarette smoke.

“Do you know, Scuttle,” he said, almost dreamily, “I am tempted to conduct an experiment.”

“An experiment, sir?”

“Yes,” said Lester Leith. “A psychological experiment. It would, however, require certain things. I would want three fifty-dollar bills and fifty one-dollar bills, Scuttle. I would want a diamond tiepin, an imitation of the ruby which was stolen from Navin’s house, and a very attractive chorus girl.”

Edward H. Beaver, undercover man who was working directly under Sergeant Arthur Ackley, but who was known to Lester Leith as “Scuttle,” surveyed the police sergeant across the battered top of the desk at Headquarters.

Sergeant Ackley blinked his crafty eyes at the undercover man and said: “Give me that list again, Beaver.”

“Three fifty-dollar bills, fifty one-dollar bills, a large diamond stick-pin, an imitation of the ruby which was stolen, and a chorus girl.”

Sergeant Ackley slammed the pencil down.

“He was taking you for a ride,” he said.

The undercover man shook his head stubbornly.

“No, he wasn’t,” he said. “It’s just the way he works. Every time he starts on one of his hijacking escapades, he asks for a bunch of stuff that seems so absolutely crazy there’s no sense to it. But every time so far those things have all turned out to be part of a carefully laid plan which results in victory for Leith and defeat for the crooks — and for us.”

Sergeant Ackley made a gesture of emphatic dismissal.

“Beaver,” he said, “the man is simply stringing you along this time. He couldn’t possibly use these things to connect up this crime. As a matter of fact, we have evidence now which indicates very strongly that the crime was actually committed by three Hindus. We’ve got a straight tip from a stool pigeon who is covering the Hindu section here.”

The spy insisted: “It doesn’t make any difference, Sergeant, whether or not Hindus committed the crime. I’m telling you that Lester Leith is serious about this, and that he’s going to use these things to work out a solution that will leave him in possession of that ruby.”

“No,” went on Sergeant Ackley, “you have overplayed your hand, Beaver. You went too far trying to get him to take an interest in this crime.”

“But,” protested the harassed spy, “what else could I do? Every time he pulls a job, you come down on him, triumphantly certain that you’ve cornered him at last, and every time he squirms out of the corner and leaves you holding the sack. As a result, he knows that you have some method of finding out what he is doing all the time. It’s a wonder to me that he doesn’t suspect me.”

“Well,” said Sergeant Ackley coldly, “you don’t need to wonder any more, Beaver, because he does suspect you. He wouldn’t have given you all this line of hooey unless he did.”

“If it’s hooey,” snapped Beaver, “he’s spending a lot of money.”

“How do you mean?”

Beaver unfolded the morning paper which lay on the sergeant’s desk.

“Take a look at the Classified Advertising Section,” he said.

“Wanted: A young woman of pleasing personality and attractive looks, who has had at least three years experience on the stage in a chorus, preferably in a musical comedy or burlesque. She must have been out of work for at least eight months.”

“And here’s another one,” said Beaver, and he pointed to another ad.

“Wanted: Ambitious young man to learn detective work at my expense. Must be a man who has had no previous experience and who knows nothing of routine police procedure. I want to train a detective who has a fresh outlook, entirely untrammeled by conventional ideas of police routine. All expenses will be paid, in addition to a generous salary. Preferably someone who has recently arrived from a rural community.”

Sergeant Ackley sat back in his chair. “I’ll be—”

“Now, then,” said the spy, “if he doesn’t intend to do something about that Navin murder, what the devil does he want to go to all this trouble for?”

“It doesn’t make sense, Beaver,” Ackley said. “No matter how you look at it, it’s crazy.”

The spy shrugged his shoulders.

“Perhaps,” he said, “that’s why he’s always so successful.”

“How do you mean, Beaver?”

“Because his stuff doesn’t make sense, Sergeant. It’s unconventional and so absolutely unique, there’s no precedent to help you.” Sergeant Ackley fished a cigar from his waistcoat pocket. “Beaver,” he said, “the real standard of a good detective is his ability to separate the wheat from the chaff. Now, I’m willing to admit that Leith has done some crazy things before, and they’ve always worked out. But this is once it won’t happen.”

“Well,” said the undercover man, getting to his feet, “you can have it your own way, but I’m willing to bet he’s up to something. I’ll bet you fifty dollars against that watch that you’re so proud of.”

Cupidity glittered in Sergeant Ackley’s eyes. “Bet me what?”

“Bet you,” said Beaver, “that he uses every one of these things to work out a scheme by which he lifts that Indian ruby, and does it all so cleverly that you can’t pin anything on him.”

Sergeant Ackley’s broad hand smacked down on the top of the desk.

“Beaver,” he said, “your language verges on insubordination. Just by way of disciplining you, I am going to take that bet. Fifty dollars against my watch.

“However, Beaver, if he is going to use other means to catch that murderer and hijack the ruby, the bet is off. He’s got to do it by these particular means.”

“That’s the bet,” said Beaver.

“And you’ve got to keep me posted as to everything that he’s doing, so that if he should use all of the stuff as a smokescreen and try to get the ruby under cover of all this hooey, we can still catch him.”

“Certainly,” said the undercover man.

Lester Leith smiled urbanely at his valet. “Scuttle,” he said, “this is Miss Dixie Dormley, and Mr. Harry Vare. Miss Dormley is a young woman who is doing some special work for me. She has had rather extensive stage experience, but has recently been out of work. In the position that I want her to fill, it will be necessary that she have some rather striking clothes, and I want you to go around with her to the various shops, let her pick out what clothing she desires, and see that it is charged to me.”