The Complete Charlie Chan Series – All 6 Mystery Novels in One Edition. Earl Derr Biggers

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СКАЧАТЬ said. "She's with the prosecutor now, telling it to him. By the way, Greene's waiting for us. Come along."

      They went into the prosecutor's office. Greene was alert and eager, a stenographer was at his elbow, and Miss Minerva sat near his desk.

      "Hello, Mr. Winterslip," he said. "What do you think of our police force now? Pretty good, eh, pretty good. Sit down, won't you?" He glanced through some papers on his desk while John Quincy, Hallet and Chan found chairs. "I don't mind telling you, this thing has knocked me all in a heap. Harry Jennison and I are old friends; I had lunch with him at the club only yesterday. I'm going to proceed a little differently than I would with an ordinary criminal."

      John Quincy half rose from his chair. "Don't get excited," Greene smiled. "Jennison will get all that's coming to him, friendship or no friendship. What I mean is that if I can save the territory the expense of a long trial by dragging a confession out of him at once, I intend to do it. He's coming in here in a moment, and I propose to reveal my whole hand to him, from start to finish. That may seem foolish, but it isn't. For I hold aces, all aces, and he'll know it as quickly as any one."

      The door opened. Spencer ushered Jennison into the room, and then withdrew. The accused man stood there, proud, haughty, defiant, a viking of the tropics, a blond giant at bay but unafraid.

      "Hello, Jennison," Greene said. "I'm mighty sorry about this—"

      "You ought to be," Jennison replied. "You're making an awful fool of yourself. What is this damned nonsense, anyhow—"

      "Sit down," said the prosecutor sharply. He indicated a chair on the opposite side of the desk. He had already turned the shade on his desk lamp so the light would shine full in the face of any one sitting there. "That lamp bother you, Harry?" he asked.

      "Why should it?" Jennison demanded.

      "Good," smiled Greene. "I believe Captain Hallet served you with a warrant on the boat. Have you looked at it, by any chance?"

      "I have."

      The prosecutor leaned across the desk. "Murder, Jennison!"

      Jennison's expression did not change. "Damned nonsense, as I told you. Why should I murder any one?"

      "Ah, the motive," Greene replied. "You're quite right, we should begin with that. Do you wish to be represented here by counsel?"

      Jennison shook his head. "I guess I'm lawyer enough to puncture this silly business," he replied.

      "Very well." Greene turned to his stenographer. "Get this." The man nodded, and the prosecutor addressed Miss Minerva. "Miss Winterslip, we'll start with you."

      Miss Minerva leaned forward. "Mr. Dan Winterslip's house on the beach has, as I told you, been offered for sale by his daughter. After dinner this evening a gentleman came to look at it—a prominent lawyer named Hailey. As we went over the house, Mr. Hailey mentioned that he had met Dan Winterslip on the street a week before his death, and that my cousin had spoken to him about coming in shortly to draw up a new will. He did not say what the provisions of the will were to be, nor did he ever carry out his intention."

      "Ah yes," said Greene. "But Mr. Jennison here was your cousin's lawyer?"

      "He was."

      "If he wanted to draw a new will, he wouldn't ordinarily have gone to a stranger for that purpose."

      "Not ordinarily. Unless he had some good reason."

      "Precisely. Unless, for instance, the will had some connection with Harry Jennison."

      "I object," Jennison cried. "This is mere conjecture."

      "So it is," Greene answered. "But we're not in court. We can conjecture if we like. Suppose, Miss Winterslip, the will was concerned with Jennison in some way. What do you imagine the connection to have been?"

      "I don't have to imagine," replied Miss Minerva. "I know."

      "Ah, that's good. You know. Go on."

      "Before I came down here to-night, I had a talk with my niece. She admitted that her father knew she and Jennison were in love, and that he had bitterly opposed the match. He had even gone so far as to say he would disinherit her if she went through with it."

      "Then the new will Dan Winterslip intended to make would probably have been to the effect that in the event his daughter married Jennison, she was not to inherit a penny of his money?"

      "There isn't any doubt of it," said Miss Minerva firmly.

      "You asked for a motive, Jennison," Greene said. "That's motive enough for me. Everybody knows you're money mad. You wanted to marry Winterslip's daughter, the richest girl in the Islands. He said you couldn't have her—not with the money too. But you're not the sort to make a penniless marriage. You were determined to get both Barbara Winterslip and her father's property. Only one person stood in your way—Dan Winterslip. And that's how you happened to be on his lanai that Monday night—"

      "Wait a minute," Jennison protested. "I wasn't on his lanai. I was on board the President Tyler, and everybody knows that ship didn't land its passengers until nine the following morning—"

      "I'm coming to that," Greene told him. "Just now—by the way, what time is it?"

      Jennison took from his pocket a watch on the end of a slender chain. "It's a quarter past nine."

      "Ah, yes. Is that the watch you usually carry?"

      "It is."

      "Ever wear a wrist watch?"

      Jennison hesitated. "Occasionally."

      "Only occasionally." The prosecutor rose and came round his desk. "Let me see your left wrist, please."

      Jennison held out his arm. It was tanned a deep brown, but on the wrist was etched in white the outline of a watch and its encircling strap.

      Greene smiled. "Yes, you have worn a wrist watch—and you've worn it pretty constantly, from the look of things." He took a small object from his pocket and held it in front of Jennison. "This watch, perhaps?" Jennison regarded it stonily. "Ever see it before?" Greene asked. "No? Well, suppose we try it on, anyhow." He put the watch in position and fastened it. "I can't help noting, Harry," he continued, "that it fits rather neatly over that white outline on your wrist. And the prong of the buckle falls naturally into the most worn of the holes on the strap."

      "What of that?" asked Jennison.

      "Oh, coincidence, probably. You have abnormally large wrists, however. Surf-boarding, swimming, eh? But that's something else I'll speak of later." He turned to Miss Minerva. "Will you please come over here, Miss Winterslip."

      She came, and as she reached his side, the prosecutor suddenly bent over and switched off the light on his desk. Save for a faint glimmer through a transom, the room was in darkness. Miss Minerva was conscious of dim huddled figures, a circle of white faces, a tense silence. The prosecutor was lifting something slowly toward her startled eyes. A watch, worn on a human wrist—a watch with an illuminated dial on which the figure two was almost obliterated.

      "Look at that and tell me," came the prosecutor's voice. "You have seen it before?"

      "I СКАЧАТЬ