Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Backward Mule

“That’s right, nothing at all. Why, no, we wouldn’t consider for a minute that you wanted to get away. No, no, you’ll just sit there, and I know you won’t mind waiting to tell us your story. Let’s see now, you felt it was pretty deserted down here and a person would have a hard time getting to a telephone. That’s why you decided to go over and use that particular instrument to call us.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, if this neighborhood is so isolated, how did you happen to get down here?”

“In a taxicab.”

“And then you let the cab go?”

“That’s right.”

“You should have kept it waiting. You might have had some difficulty getting another one.”

“I thought that Mr. Gloster would take me home.”

“Oh, you knew Mr. Gloster was here?”

“Naturally.”

“Well, we’ll find out all about that later on, Mr. Clane. If you’ll just go out and sit in the car now, I’ll go to work and do the chores here. Just a lot of routine, you know, covering things with powder, looking for fingerprints. And, by the way, I guess you’d better give the boy your fingerprints out there. Just a little messy, you know, gets the ends of your fingers smeared up with ink; but it’s one of the things we have to do. You’ve been in this room and you’ve left fingerprints here and there and of course we want to be able to identify those fingerprints of yours when we find them. Wouldn’t want to find some real good latent print and think we had the print of the murderer, and then after a while find out that it was the fingerprint of Mr. Terry Clane. That would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it, ha, ha, ha!”

“Very embarrassing,” Clane agreed.

“All right, just step out there. Fred, would you mind taking Mr. Clane’s prints? Then you can sit out in the car with him and talk to him. He’s an interesting chap to talk to. Isn’t interested in baseball and prize fights and the things you’d ordinarily talk about. He’s interested in Oriental philosophy. Don’t try to talk with him about that because you don’t know anything about it, but perhaps you can get him to talk with you while you listen. And don’t ask him any questions about the case. Leave that for me. I wouldn’t want him to have to repeat what he has to say. I’ll be out just as soon as I can get things going here. Now if you boys will set up the cameras there, we’ll get some pictures first rattle out of the box. You can plug into that outside socket and string your wire in for your floodlights. And we might start taking some measurements of the position of the body and the location of the furniture. The district attorney will be wanting a map of the place. You know how it is, Clane. Lawyers have a certain rigmarole they go through with and the district attorney will want something he can produce as People’s Exhibit Number One. All right, Fred, take Mr. Clane out in the car and try to keep him interested, keep him talking.”

Clane followed the officer out to the car where he was duly fingerprinted and then given a rag on which he could wipe off the surplus ink from the tips of his fingers. The manner in which the officer whom Inspector Malloy referred to as Fred tried to keep up a conversation, coupled with what Malloy had said, made Clane realize that these officers were trying to keep him from having a chance to think up some good story. They wanted to keep his mind thoroughly occupied.

Fred asked Clane all about China, all about the Chinese people, about the Chinese religion, about Clane’s trip across on the boat, about a hundred and one incidental things. Some of the questions were searching and intelligent, some of them were just questions; but there was a continuing stream of questions. Clane had no opportunity whatever to relax into thoughtful silence. He was peppered with verbal question marks, coming with what at times seemed to be the unceasing rapidity of hail falling on a tin roof. But Clane, realizing that this was part of Malloy’s test and that any attempt on his part to become silent would be duly reported to the Inspector and considered as a suspicious circumstance, kept his good nature and answered the questions, for the most part making his answers brief so that the burden of carrying on the conversation fell upon Fred. But at the end of fifteen minutes Clane was forced to admit that this was a game at which Fred was adept. Evidently he had done it before. Clane had a shrewd suspicion that the officer was hardly listening to his answers but was using the period during which Clane was talking to formulate some new question.

At the end of twenty minutes Inspector Malloy came barging out of the building, his genial bluff good nature a mask behind which his busy brain went about its business.

“Well, well, well, Clane,” he said, “I can see that Fred’s been pumping you to find out all about the Orient. I should have cautioned you about Fred. He’s after information all the time. Too bad you don’t know more about baseball. Fred’s an expert, can tell you everything about any player in any of the leagues. You get to talking with him about baseball and he’ll be betting you money first thing you know, and you won’t stand a chance, Mr. Clane. But I suppose Fred’s an expert on the Orient now. Now if you wouldn’t mind stepping right in here, Mr. Clane, and... But before you do that, perhaps you’d better show us just what happened. Now you came here in a taxi.”

“That’s right.”

“Now where did you get that taxi?”

“It was one I just happened to find cruising along the street.”

“Lucky, that’s what you are,” Malloy said. “You know, lots of people would be prowling around the streets looking for a taxicab for an hour or so and wouldn’t get it. But you just pop out of your apartment and bang, there’s a taxicab right there. That right?”

“Not right there, I had to walk two or three blocks.”

“Walk two or three blocks. Well, well, well, think of it, stepping out and finding a taxi within two or three blocks. That’s marvelous. That’s really wonderful. I guess you’re just lucky. Perhaps it’s a good thing you didn’t talk baseball and get a bet out of him, Fred. Mr. Clane’s lucky enough so he might have won just on sheer luck, ha, ha. Now right this way, Mr. Clane. But before we do that, let’s pause here just for a moment. Your taxi swung around and made a turn. Yes, I can see it did. Here’s some tracks that must have been made by the car you came down in. So the taxi stopped about here and let you off.”

“That’s right.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I walked toward the door of the building.”

“Tut, tut, tut, Mr. Clane,” Malloy said. “You mustn’t do that.”

“Mustn’t do what?”

Malloy was grinning at him. “Mustn’t cheat your cab driver out of his fare,” he said. “You told me you let the cabby go.”

“That’s right. I did.”

“Then you must have paid him off.”

Clane smiled. “I overlooked that.”

“You mean you overlooked paying him off?”

“No, overlooked telling you about it.”

“Come, come, Mr. Clane, you mustn’t do that. Now as I remember it, you’ve had quite a bit of rather unusual mental training?

“Seems to me I heard once that you knew all about concentration. I recall that in the Mandra case the district attorney told me to watch out for you. A man with a trained mind that way mustn’t forget those little things. Now, don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Clane, I want you to tell me everything you did, absolutely everything. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Nothing is too trivial. Nothing is too small. I want you to just show me what you did and tell me what you did. Now you were standing right here when you got out of the taxicab?”