The Greatest Murder Mysteries of S. S. Van Dine - 12 Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). S.S. Van Dine

Чтение книги онлайн.

      CHAPTER XVII

       THE FORGED CHECK

       Table of Contents

      (Wednesday, June 19; forenoon.)

      We rode down town with Markham the next morning, and though we arrived at his office before nine o’clock, Heath was already there waiting. He appeared worried, and when he spoke his voice held an ill-disguised reproof for the District Attorney.

      “What about this Leacock, Mr. Markham?” he asked. “It looks to me like we’d better grab him quick. We’ve been tailing him right along; and there’s something funny going on. Yesterday morning he went to his bank and spent half an hour in the chief cashier’s office. After that he visited his lawyer’s, and was there over an hour. Then he went back to the bank for another half-hour. He dropped in to the Astor Grill for lunch, but didn’t eat anything—sat staring at the table. About two o’clock he called on the realty agents who have the handling of the building he lives in; and after he’d left, we found out he’d offered his apartment for sub-lease beginning to-morrow. Then he paid six calls on friends of his, and went home. After dinner my man rang his apartment bell and asked for Mr. Hoozitz:—Leacock was packing up! . . . It looks to me like a get-away.”

      Markham frowned. Heath’s report clearly troubled him; but before he could answer, Vance spoke.

      “Why this perturbation, Sergeant? You’re watching the Captain. I’m sure he can’t slip from your vigilant clutches.”

      Markham looked at Vance a moment; then turned to Heath.

      “Let it go at that. But if Leacock attempts to leave the city, nab him.”

      Heath went out sullenly.

      “By the bye, Markham,” said Vance; “don’t make an appointment for half past twelve to-day. You already have one, don’t y’ know. And with a lady.”

      Markham put down his pen, and stared.

      “What new damned nonsense is this?”

      “I made an engagement for you. Called the lady by ’phone this morning. I’m sure I woke the dear up.”

      Markham spluttered, striving to articulate his angry protest.

      Vance held up his hand soothingly.

      “And you simply must keep the engagement. Y’ see, I told her it was you speaking; and it would be shocking taste not to appear. . . . I promise, you won’t regret meeting her,” he added. “Things looked so sadly befuddled last night,—I couldn’t bear to see you suffering so. Cons’quently, I arranged for you to see Mrs. Paula Banning—Pfyfe’s Éloïse, y’ know. I’m pos’tive she’ll be able to dispel some of this inspissated gloom that’s enveloping you.”

      “See here, Vance!” Markham growled. “I happen to be running this office——” He stopped abruptly, realizing the hopelessness of making head-way against the other’s blandness. Moreover, I think, the prospect of interviewing Mrs. Paula Banning was not wholly alien to his inclinations. His resentment slowly ebbed, and when he again spoke his voice was almost matter-of-fact.

      “Since you’ve committed me, I’ll see her. But I’d rather Pfyfe wasn’t in such close communication with her. He’s apt to drop in—with preconcerted unexpectedness.”

      “Funny,” murmured Vance. “I thought of that myself. . . . That’s why I ’phoned him last night that he could return to Long Island.”

      “You ’phoned him——!”

      “Awf’lly sorry and all that,” Vance apologized. “But you’d gone to bed. Sleep was knitting up your ravell’d sleave of care; and I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you. . . . Pfyfe was so grateful, too. Most touchin’. Said his wife also would be grateful. He was pathetically consid’rate about Mrs. Pfyfe. But I fear he’ll need all his velvety forensic powers to explain his absence.”

      “In what other quarters have you involved me during my absence?” asked Markham acrimoniously.

      “That’s all,” replied Vance, rising and strolling to the window.

      He stood looking out, smoking thoughtfully. When he turned back to the room, his bantering air had gone. He sat down facing Markham.

      “The Major has practically admitted to us,” he said, “that he knows more about this affair than he has told. You naturally can’t push the point, in view of his hon’rable attitude in the matter. And yet, he’s willing for you to find out what he knows, as long as he doesn’t tell you himself,—that was unquestionably the stand he took last night. Now, I believe there’s a way you can find out without calling upon him to go against his principles. . . . You recall Miss Hoffman’s story of the eavesdropping; and you also recall that he told you he heard a conversation which, in the light of Benson’s murder, became significant. It’s quite prob’ble, therefore, that the Major’s knowledge has to do with something connected with the business of the firm, or at least with one of the firm’s clients.”

      Vance slowly lit another cigarette.

      “My suggestion is this: call up the Major, and ask permission to СКАЧАТЬ