The Philo Vance Megapack. S.S. Van Dine

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      VANCE (smiling faintly): He asked you the time, perhaps?

      BOY: Yes, sir, he did. He asked me to look at his clock in his parlor.

      VANCE: How did he happen to do that?

      BOY: Well, I took up the ice, and he was in bed; and he asked me to put it in his pitcher in the parlor. When I was doin’ it, he called me to look at the clock on the mantel and tell him what time it was. He said his watch had stopped and he wanted to set it.

      VANCE: What did he say then?

      BOY: Nothin’ much. He told me not to ring his bell, no matter who called up. He said he wanted to sleep, and didn’t want to be woke up.

      VANCE: Was he emphatic about it?

      BOY: Well—he meant it, all right.

      VANCE: Did he say anything else?

      BOY: No. He just said good night and turned out the light, and I came on downstairs.

      VANCE: What light did he turn out?

      BOY: The one in his bedroom.

      VANCE: Could you see into his bedroom from the parlor?

      BOY: No. The bedroom’s off the hall.

      VANCE: How could you tell the light was turned off then?

      BOY: The bedroom door was open, and the light was shinin’ into the hall.

      VANCE: Did you pass the bedroom door when you went out?

      BOY: Sure—you have to.

      VANCE: And was the door still open?

      BOY: Yes.

      VANCE: Is that the only door to the bedroom?

      BOY: Yes.

      VANCE: Where was Major Benson when you entered the apartment?

      BOY: In bed.

      VANCE: How do you know?

      BOY (mildly indignant): I saw him.

      VANCE (after a pause): You’re quite sure he didn’t come downstairs again?

      BOY: I told you I’d’ve seen him if he had.

      VANCE: Couldn’t he have walked down at some time when you had the elevator upstairs, without your seeing him?

      BOY: Sure, he could. But I didn’t take the elevator up after I’d took the major his cracked ice until around two thirty, when Mr. Montagu came in.

      VANCE: You took no one up in the elevator, then, between the time you brought Major Benson the ice and when Mr. Montagu came in at two thirty?

      BOY: Nobody.

      VANCE: And you didn’t leave the hall here between those hours?

      BOY: No. I was sittin’ here all the time.

      VANCE: Then the last time you saw him was in bed at twelve thirty?

BOY: Yes—until early in the morning when some dame20 phoned him and said his brother had been murdered. He came down and went out about ten minutes after.

      VANCE (giving the boy a dollar): That’s all. But don’t you open your mouth to anyone about our being here, or you may find yourself in the lockup—understand?… Now, get back to your job.

      When the boy had left us, Vance turned a pleading gaze upon Markham.

      “Now, old man, for the protection of society, and the higher demands of justice, and the greatest good for the greatest number, and pro bono publico, and that sort of thing, you must once more adopt a course of conduct contr’ry to your innate promptings—or whatever the phrase you used. Vulgarly put, I want to snoop through the major’s apartment at once.”

      “What for?” Markham’s tone was one of exclamatory protest. “Have you completely lost your senses? There’s no getting round the boy’s testimony. I may be weakminded, but I know when a witness like that is telling the truth.”

      “Certainly, he’s telling the truth,” agreed Vance serenely. “That’s just why I want to go up. Come, my Markham. There’s no danger of the major returning en surprise at this hour.… And”—he smiled cajolingly—“you promised me every assistance don’t y’ know.”

      Markham was vehement in his remonstrances, but Vance was equally vehement in his insistence; and a few minutes later we were trespassing, by means of a passkey, in Major Benson’s apartment.

      The only entrance was a door leading from the public hall into a narrow passageway which extended straight ahead into the living room at the rear. On the right of this passageway, near the entrance, was a door opening into the bedroom.

      Vance walked directly back into the living room. On the right-hand wall was a fireplace and a mantel on which sat an old-fashioned mahogany clock. Near the mantel, in the far corner, stood a small table containing a silver ice-water service consisting of a pitcher and six goblets.

      “There is our very convenient clock,” said Vance. “And there is the pitcher in which the boy put the ice—imitation Sheffield plate.”

      Going to the window, he glanced down into the paved rear court twenty-five or thirty feet below.

      “The major certainly couldn’t have escaped through the window,” he remarked.

      He turned and stood a moment looking into the passageway.

      “The boy could easily have seen the light go out in the bedroom, if the door was open. The reflection on the glazed white wall of the passage would have been quite brilliant.”

      Then, retracing his steps, he entered the bedroom. It contained a small canopied bed facing the door, and beside it stood a night table on which was an electric lamp. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he looked about him and turned the lamp on and off by the socket chain. Presently he fixed his eyes on Markham.

      “You see how the major got out without the boy’s knowing it—eh, what?”

      “By levitation, I suppose,” submitted Markham.

      “It amounted to that, at any rate,” replied Vance, “Deuced ingenious, too.… Listen, Markham:—At half past twelve the major rang for cracked ice. The boy brought it, and when he entered, he looked in through the door, which was open, and saw the major in bed. The major told him to put the ice in the pitcher in the living room. The boy walked on down the passage and across the living room to the table in the corner. The major then called to him to learn the time by the clock on the mantel. The boy looked: it was half past twelve. The major replied that he was not to be disturbed again, said good night, turned off this light on this night table, jumped out of bed—he was dressed, of course—and stepped СКАЧАТЬ