The Greatest Works of S. S. Van Dine (Illustrated Edition). S.S. Van Dine
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Название: The Greatest Works of S. S. Van Dine (Illustrated Edition)
Автор: S.S. Van Dine
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 9788027222902
isbn:
Heath made a gesture of finality and sank back in his chair.
“Clever—deuced clever,” murmured Vance. “Sergeant, I apologize for my little outburst a moment ago. Your logic is irreproachable. You’ve reconstructed the crime beautifully. You’ve solved the case. . . . It’s wonderful—simply wonderful. But it’s wrong.”
“It’s right enough to send Mr. Jessup to the chair.”
“That’s the terrible thing about logic,” said Vance. “It so often leads one irresistibly to a false conclusion.”
He stood up and walked across the room and back, his hands in his coat-pockets. When he came abreast of Heath he halted.
“I say, Sergeant; if somebody else could have unlocked that side door, and then rebolted it again after the crime, you’d be willing to admit that it would weaken your case against Jessup—eh, what?”
Heath was in a generous mood.
“Sure. Show me some one else who coulda done that, and I’ll admit that maybe I’m wrong.”
“Skeel could have done it, Sergeant. And he did do it—without any one knowing it.”
“Skeel!—This ain’t the age of miracles, Mr. Vance.”
Vance swung about and faced Markham.
“Listen! I’m telling you Jessup’s innocent.” He spoke with a fervor that amazed me. “And I’m going to prove it to you—some way. My theory is pretty complete; it’s deficient only in one or two small points; and, I’ll confess, I haven’t yet been able to put a name to the culprit. But it’s the right theory, Markham, and it’s diametrically opposed to the Sergeant’s. Therefore, you’ve got to give me an opportunity to demonstrate it before you proceed against Jessup. Now, I can’t demonstrate it here; so you and Heath must come with me to the Odell house. It won’t take over an hour. But if it took a week, you’d have to come just the same.”
He stepped nearer to the desk.
“I know that it was Skeel, and not Jessup, who unbolted that door before the crime, and rebolted it afterward.”
Markham was impressed.
“You know this—you know it for a fact?”
“Yes! And I know how he did it!”
CHAPTER XXV
VANCE DEMONSTRATES
(Monday, September 17; 11.30 a. m.)
Half an hour later we entered the little apartment-house in 71st Street. Despite the plausibility of Heath’s case against Jessup, Markham was not entirely satisfied with the arrest; and Vance’s attitude had sown further seeds of doubt in his mind. The strongest point against Jessup was that relating to the bolting and unbolting of the side door; and when Vance had asserted that he was able to demonstrate how Skeel could have manipulated his own entrance and exit, Markham, though only partly convinced, had agreed to accompany him. Heath, too, was interested, and, though supercilious, had expressed a willingness to go along.
Spively, scintillant in his chocolate-colored suit, was at the switchboard, and stared at us apprehensively. But when Vance suggested pleasantly that he take a ten-minute walk round the block, he appeared greatly relieved, and lost no time in complying.
The officer on guard outside of the Odell apartment came forward and saluted.
“How goes it?” asked Heath. “Any visitors?”
“Only one—a toff who said he’d known the Canary and wanted to see the apartment. I told him to get an order from you or the District Attorney.”
“That was correct, officer,” said Markham; then, turning to Vance: “Probably Spotswoode—poor devil.”
“Quite,” murmured Vance. “So persistent! Rosemary and all that. . . . Touchin’.”
Heath told the officer to go for a half-hour’s stroll; and we were left alone.
“And now, Sergeant,” said Vance cheerfully, “I’m sure you know how to operate a switchboard. Be so kind as to act as Spively’s understudy for a few minutes—there’s a good fellow. . . . But, first, please bolt the side door—and be sure that you bolt it securely, just as it was on the fatal night.”
Heath grinned good-naturedly.
“Sure thing.” He put his forefinger to his lips mysteriously, and, crouching, tiptoed down the hall like a burlesque detective in a farce. After a few moments he came tiptoeing back to the switchboard, his finger still on his lips. Then, glancing surreptitiously about him with globular eyes, he put his mouth to Vance’s ear.
“His-s-s-t!” he whispered. “The door’s bolted. G-r-r-r. . . .” He sat down at the switchboard. “When does the curtain go up, Mr. Vance?”
“It’s up, Sergeant.” Vance fell in with Heath’s jocular mood. “Behold! The hour is half past nine on Monday night. You are Spively—not nearly so elegant; and you forgot the moustache—but still Spively. And I am the bedizened Skeel. For the sake of realism, please try to imagine me in chamois gloves and a pleated silk shirt. Mr. Markham and Mr. Van Dine here represent ‘the many-headed monster of the pit.'—And, by the bye, Sergeant, let me have the key to the Odell apartment: Skeel had one, don’t y’ know.”
Heath produced the key and handed it over, still grinning.
“A word of stage-direction,” Vance continued. “When I have departed by the front door, you are to wait exactly three minutes, and then knock at the late Canary’s apartment.”
He sauntered to the front door and, turning, walked back toward the switchboard. Markham and I stood behind Heath in the little alcove, facing the front of the building.
“Enter Mr. Skeel!” announced Vance. “Remember, it’s half past nine.” Then, as he came abreast of the switchboard: “Dash it all! You forgot your lines, Sergeant. You should have told me that Miss Odell was out. But it doesn’t matter. . . . Mr. Skeel continues to the lady’s door . . . thus.”
He walked past us, and we heard him ring the apartment bell. After a brief pause, he knocked on the door. Then he came back down the hall.
“I guess you were right,” he said, quoting the words of Skeel as reported by Spively; and went on to the front door. Stepping out into the street, he turned toward Broadway.
For exactly three minutes we waited. None of us spoke. Heath had become serious, and his accelerated puffing on his cigar bore evidence of his state of expectancy. Markham was frowning stoically. At the end of the three СКАЧАТЬ