The Greatest Works of S. S. Van Dine (Illustrated Edition). S.S. Van Dine

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СКАЧАТЬ of the Odell case. Heath, I knew, was to come for a conference at ten o’clock. In the meantime there was nothing for Vance to do but read the newspapers; and I occupied myself in like manner.

      Punctually at ten Heath arrived, and from his manner it was plain that something had happened to cheer him immeasurably. He was almost jaunty, and his formal, self-satisfied salutation to Vance was like that of a conqueror to a vanquished adversary. He shook hands with Markham with more than his customary punctility.

      “Our troubles are over, sir,” he said, and paused to light his cigar. “I’ve arrested Jessup.”

      It was Vance who broke the dramatic silence following this astounding announcement.

      “In the name of Heaven—what for?”

      Heath turned deliberately, in no wise abashed by the other’s tone.

      “For the murder of Margaret Odell and Tony Skeel.”

      “Oh, my aunt! Oh, my precious aunt!” Vance sat up and stared at him in amazement. “Sweet angels of heaven, come down and solace me!”

      Heath’s complacency was unshaken.

      “You won’t need no angels, or aunts either, when you hear what I’ve found out about this fellow. I’ve got him tied up in a sack, ready to hand to the jury.”

      The first wave of Markham’s astonishment had subsided.

      “Let’s have the story, Sergeant.”

      Heath settled himself in a chair. He took a few moments to arrange his thoughts.

      “It’s like this, sir. Yesterday afternoon I got to thinking. Here was Skeel murdered, same like Odell, after he’d promised to squeal; and it certainly looked as though the same guy had strangled both of ’em. Therefore, I concluded that there musta been two guys in the apartment Monday night—the Dude and the murderer—just like Mr. Vance has been saying all along. Then I figured that they knew each other pretty well, because not only did the other fellow know where the Dude lived, but he musta been wise to the fact that the Dude was going to squeal yesterday. It looked to me, sir, like they had pulled the Odell job together—which is why the Dude didn’t squeal in the first place. But after the other fellow lost his nerve and threw the jewellery away, Skeel thought he’d play safe by turning state’s evidence, so he phoned you.”

      The Sergeant smoked a moment.

      “I never put much stock in Mannix and Cleaver and the doc. They weren’t the kind to do a job like that, and they certainly weren’t the kind that would be mixed up with a jailbird like Skeel. So I stood all three of ’em to one side, and began looking round for a bad egg—somebody who’d have been likely to be Skeel’s accomplice. But first I tried to figure out what you might call the physical obstacles in the case—that is, the snags we were up against in our reconstruction of the crime.”

      Again he paused.

      “Now, the thing that’s been bothering us most is that side door. How did it get unbolted after six o’clock? And who bolted it again after the crime? Skeel musta come in by it before eleven, because he was in the apartment when Spotswoode and Odell returned from the theatre; and he probably went out by it after Cleaver had come to the apartment at about midnight. But that wasn’t explaining how it got bolted again on the inside. Well, sir, I studied over this for a long time yesterday, and then I went up to the house and took another look at the door. Young Spively was running the switchboard, and I asked him where Jessup was, for I wanted to ask him some questions. And Spively told me he’d quit his job the day before—Saturday afternoon!”

      Heath waited to let this fact sink in.

      “I was on my way down-town before the idea came to me. Then it hit me sudden-like; and the whole case broke wide open.—Mr. Markham, nobody but Jessup coulda opened that side door and locked it again—nobody. Figure it out for yourself, sir—though I guess you’ve pretty well done it already. Skeel couldn’t’ve done it. And there wasn’t nobody else to do it.”

      Markham had become interested, and leaned forward.

      “After this idea had hit me,” Heath continued, “I decided to take a chance; so I got outa the Subway at the Penn Station, and phoned Spively for Jessup’s address. Then I got my first good news: Jessup lived on Second Avenue, right around the corner from Skeel! I picked up a coupla men from the local station, and went to his house. We found him packing up his things, getting ready to go to Detroit. We locked him up, and I took his finger-prints and sent ’em to Dubois. I thought I might get a line on him that way, because crooks don’t generally begin with a job as big as the Canary prowl.”

      Heath permitted himself a grin of satisfaction.

      “Well, sir, Dubois nailed him up! His name ain’t Jessup at all. The William part is all right, but his real moniker is Benton. He was convicted of assault and battery in Oakland in 1909, and served a year in San Quentin when Skeel was a prisoner there. He was also grabbed as a lookout in a bank robbery in Brooklyn in 1914, but didn’t come to trial—that’s how we happen to have his finger-prints at Headquarters. When we put him on the grill last night, he said he changed his name after the Brooklyn racket, and enlisted in the army. That’s all we could get outa him; but we didn’t need any more.—Now, here are the facts: Jessup has served time for assault and battery. He was mixed up in a bank robbery. Skeel was a fellow prisoner of his. He’s got no alibi for Saturday night when Skeel was killed, and he lives round the corner. He quit his job suddenly Saturday afternoon. He’s husky and strong and could easily have done the business. He was planning his getaway when we nabbed him. And—he’s the only person who could’ve unbolted and rebolted that side door Monday night. . . . Is that a case, or ain’t it, Mr. Markham?”

      Markham sat several minutes in thought.

      “It’s a good case as far as it goes,” he said slowly. “But what was his motive in strangling the girl?”

      “That’s easy. Mr. Vance here suggested it the first day. You remember he asked Jessup about his feelings for Odell; and Jessup turned red and got nervous.”

      “Oh, Lord!” exclaimed Vance. “Am I to be made responsible for any part of this priceless lunacy? . . . True, I pried into the chap’s emotions toward the lady; but that was before anything had come to light. I was bein’ careful—tryin’ to test each possibility as it arose.”

      “Well, that was a lucky question of yours, just the same.” Heath turned back to Markham. “As I see it: Jessup was stuck on Odell, and she told him to trot along and sell his papers. He got all worked up over it, sitting there night after night, seeing these other guys calling on her. Then Skeel comes along, and, recognizing him, suggests burglarizing Odell’s apartment. Skeel can’t do the job without help, for he has to pass the phone operator coming and going; and as he’s been there before, he’d be recognized. Jessup sees a chance of getting even with Odell and putting the blame on some one else; so the two of ’em cook up the job for Monday night. When Odell goes out Jessup unlocks the side door, and the Dude lets himself into the apartment with his own key. Then Odell and Spotswoode arrive unexpectedly. Skeel hides in the closet, and after Spotswoode has gone, he accidentally makes a noise, and Odell screams. He steps out, and when she sees who he is, she tells Spotswoode it’s a mistake. Jessup now knows Skeel has been discovered, and decides to make use of the fact. Soon after Spotswoode has gone, he enters the apartment with a pass-key. Skeel, thinking it’s somebody else, hides again in the closet; and then Jessup grabs the girl and strangles her, intending to let Skeel get the credit for СКАЧАТЬ