Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Backward Mule

“Yes, yes, I know. But you may just as well get in the car with me and we can kill two birds with one stone. Perhaps I’ll drive you away from the neighborhood and then after I’ve talked with you, you can go and take a walk somewhere else.”

“What’s the matter with the neighborhood?” Clane asked. “Is there smallpox in it?”

“Well, now that’s an idea,” Inspector Malloy said. “There may be. I’m intending to quarantine it.”

“To quarantine the whole neighborhood?”

Inspector Malloy’s deep chuckle showed he was enjoying the situation. He said, “That’s right, Clane. Sort of a quarantine. It’s unhealthful.”

“For whom?”

“For you.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Well now, that’s one of the things we can’t always explain. But if you’ll just get in this car. Here, let me take the package. Two cans of pineapple juice, eh? Now isn’t that interesting? Right in the car here, if you will, Mr. Clane. Now don’t hesitate. I could make it formal and official, you know.”

Clane accompanied Inspector Malloy to the police automobile, climbed in beside the Inspector.

“Now then,” Malloy said sternly, “I want to give you a word of warning. It’s chaps like you, playing at cops and robbers, that make trouble.”

“Just what do you mean?” Clane asked.

“You know what I mean, snooping around these stores and trying to find out where Edward Harold bought the provisions that were in that hideout.”

Clane said, “I hadn’t asked a question in that store.”

“I know, you were laying the foundation for a casual inquiry by buying a couple of cans of fruit juice. Don’t try it, Mr. Clane. I know what I’m talking about. It just makes trouble. Leave all that stuff to the police.”

Clane, willing to let Inspector Malloy accept that excuse for his being in the neighborhood, said meekly, “Yes, I suppose so.”

Malloy drove the car slowly and conservatively. “This Cynthia Renton,” he said, “must be a very nice girl.”

“She is.”

“Now do I understand you haven’t seen her since you got back?”

Clane said, “I don’t see what that has to do with it.”

“Well, the police are sort of looking for her, want to ask her a few questions.”

“The police have my permission,” Clane said gravely.

Malloy shot him a swift glance, then moved his eyes back to the road. “She was engaged to Edward Harold. Everyone seems to think so.”

“I see.”

“If that’s the case, she must know where he is.”

“Or was,” Clane said.

“We know where he was. He was there in that warehouse and he was provisioned up for a regular siege. Someone bought quite a bunch of groceries, apparently all in one order. Took them down and stocked the place up so he could stay there for a month or so without ever needing to stick his head outdoors.”

“Did you think that person was Miss Renton?”

“In our business, we don’t do too much speculative thinking, Mr. Clane. We investigate. And when we investigate, we make it a point to cover all of the possibilities.”

“I see,” Clane said.

“Even,” Malloy went on, “including that poker-faced Chinese servant of yours, Yat T’oy.”

“I see.”

“One of these days, we’ll stumble on a live lead. That’s the way it is in police investigation.”

“Yes, I can imagine it takes what might be termed infinite patience.”

“Well, we don’t have too much time to be patient. We have to hit the high spots and get the job done. Now take in your own case, Mr. Clane. Are you certain you went down there last night in a taxicab?”

“Why?”

“Well now, I’m going to be frank with you. There’s some evidence that we haven’t given to the newspapers.”

“You mean in addition to Miss Renton’s purse?” Clane asked casually.

Malloy’s face became wooden. “We don’t always tell everything we know.”

Clane said, “I have been wondering if, perhaps, Gloster hadn’t found Miss Renton’s purse in the warehouse and that was what he wanted to see me about. Thought he could return the purse to her through me.”

“And what makes you think he had found the purse?”

“If Miss Renton had left it in the warehouse, Gloster might well have found it.”

Malloy slowed the car almost to a crawl, then as angry horns blared into a demand for the road to be cleared, Malloy swung over to the curb and parked in the open space directly in front of a fire hydrant. He shut off the motor and turned to Clane. “Now let’s get this straight,” he said. “Did Gloster say anything to you about having Miss Renton’s purse?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Clane said significantly.

“But you thought that’s what he wanted?”

“I’m wondering now, if... well, to tell you the truth, Inspector, I don’t know what he wanted.”

“But you were able to formulate an idea?”

“Only on what we might call a hunch, or perhaps mental telepathy.”

“We don’t go for mental telepathy,” Malloy said.

“If you knew more about it, you might.”

“Perhaps, but the Chief doesn’t like it.”

“I see.”

Malloy sat silent for several minutes. Then he said suddenly, “There’s one possibility.”

“What’s that?” Clane asked.

“I’ll tell you about that in about two minutes,” Malloy said, and, switching on the motor, he swung out into traffic.

This time there was no hesitancy, no crawling along. Now he switched on the official red police spotlight and started making time for Clane’s apartment.

“You seem to be in a hurry all of a sudden,” Clane said.

“Well, you know how it is, Mr. Clane. In this business ideas strike you, and when they do, you don’t have all day to think them over. I’ll take you right to your apartment and then start investigating another phase of the case.”

“Mind if I ask what that is?” Clane asked.

“No, not at all,” Malloy said, “not a-tall, Mr. Clane. In fact, I wanted to discuss it with you.”

“Go right ahead.”

Malloy said, “We sort of stole a march on you last night, Mr. Clane. We searched your flat.”

“The deuce you did.”

“Yes. One of our men posed as a gas man, searching for a leak in the line.”

“Find anything?” Clane asked.

“Not a thing, Mr. Clane. But on the other hand, it wasn’t what you’d call a thorough search. It was sort of an inspection. And we may have overlooked something. Your place has been under surveillance ever since, but... Well, I think, if you don’t mind, we’ll go look the place over again, and this time we’ll make a more thorough job of it.”

“And if I do mind?” Clane asked.

“In that case, I have a search warrant.”

“In that case, I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do about it if I do mind, is there?” Clane asked.

“Now that’s spoken like a true philosopher,” Malloy said. “You’re quite right, Mr. Clane, there isn’t a single damn thing you can do about it.”

Malloy made the run in swift time, parked his car in front of Clane’s flat and directly across the street.

Clane deliberately fumbled around with the car door, taking the longest possible time getting out of the car and praying that Yat T’oy would be watching from behind the curtains of the windows in the flat above.

“Come on, come on,” Malloy said impatiently. “After all, it’s like a cold shower. You have to do it and get it over with, and the quicker you jump in, the quicker it’s over.”

Clane glancing upward could see no faintest silhouette behind the lace curtains of the windows.