Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 62, No. 2, October 3, 1931
- Автор: Энгланд Джордж Аллан, Philips Judson P.
- Год: 1931
- Язык: английский
- Год: The Red Star News Company
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 62, No. 2, October 3, 1931». Краткое содержание книги:
Again Pope shrugged.
“I can’t help it because the stenographer Schuyler hired was dumb,” he said. “But I do know that I didn’t kill him.”
“Yeah?” said Hogan. “Well, you can rest assured that I’m going to find out who did kill him before any one leaves this office to-night.”
They could hear Louise, still sobbing, in the other room. She was with a police matron. The body had been removed, but Louise was disturbed by the fact that there had been a body in the room. Hogan listened to her sobs and shook his head despairingly.
At that moment a door opened and a detective rushed in.
“They’re bringing in Talbott now!” he announced.
Hogan’s face lightened.
“Great!” he said. “Where did they get him?”
“He was at the Hotel Greenway — sound asleep.”
There were footsteps in the hall and Hogan motioned for quiet as the door began to open. Then Talbott walked in — with two detectives. There was consternation written on his face.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “what’s this I hear about poor old—”
“Never mind that grandstand play,” snarled Hogan. “Come in here and sit down and answer questions — fast!”
Talbott looked shocked. He looked searchingly around the room. His eyes met those of Pope for a moment and then he looked away quickly. Pope grinned.
“Hello, Jim,” he drawled. “What did you do with the million dollars!”
Talbott, slumping into the chair, looked at his business partner in surprise.
“What do you mean, Al?” he said. “What million dollars?”
Pope laughed.
“Why, the million dollars you copped,” he said, “when you came up here and killed Schuyler, you rat!”
“If any one did that job, it’s you!” said Talbott.
Hogan was beaming down on them, as upon a couple of erring school boys.
“That’s it, boys,” he said. “Have it out. But see if you can’t get together on this argument and decide which one of you killed Schuyler. Or maybe” — he stroked his chin — “you were both in on it.”
“Hogan, I tell you—” said Pope.
“Never mind telling me,” said Hogan. “Both of you come into the next room. Maybe that dumb secretary can help us out after all.”
Pope and Talbott both looked puzzled. Talbott wet his lips. Then each got up and, escorted by Hogan and the detectives, went into the room where Schuyler had met his death.
“Now, you, Pope,” said Hogan, go slowly out that door — the door the murderer went out.
“When you get outside, stand and hold it just a little bit open with your back turned to it.”
Pope looked puzzled.
“Why?” he demanded.
“Because,” said Hogan, “I want to see if this secretary, this Miss Long, can recognize either of you, from your shadows on the door, as the man who sneaked out after Schuyler was murdered.”
VI
Pope shrugged his shoulders and walked to the door, accompanied by a detective. He went out, the detective leading. Slowly Pope closed the door. A shadow, thrown by an electric light in the hall, was plainly distinguishable upon the glass door. Pope stood still when Hogan yelled to him to do so. Talbott wet his lips as he watched the procedure.
“Now, Miss Long,” said Hogan, “can you recognize that shadow. Can you recognize anything familiar about it.”
Red-eyed, the girl looked at the door.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Hogan sighed.
“My dear lady,” he said. “You saw a man’s shadow on that door this afternoon. Is that the shadow you saw? Is there anything familiar about it?”
The girl stared at the shadow of Pope on the door. They all waited in silence — watching her.
“Why,” she said finally, “all shadows look alike and... and, anyway, I didn’t pay much attention to it.”
Hogan groaned, called to Pope and the detective to come back. Pope was grinning.
“You might as well try it,” said Hogan dejectedly to Talbott.
Talbott was grinning as he went out the door with a detective.
“Now look at him,” said Hogan. “Do you make anything out of that shadow?”
“Why, no,” said Louise. “Nothing at all.”
“Jeez, you’re dumb,” said Hogan.
He roared to the detectives to bring the two suspects into the other room.
“We’ll probably have to knock it out of them,” he announced.
Both Talbott and Pope looked at him apprehensively as they marched into the reception room.
Inside the murder room, Louise Long, the secretary, was flushing angrily. She turned to the police matron, her eyes bright with indignation.
“I don’t think they should talk about me that way,” she said. “You’d think I didn’t have any brains at all.”
The matron smiled sympathetically.
“You should be more observant, my dear,” she said. “If you had been observant and you had thought fast, if you had at least run to the door, this case would have been solved by now.”
“Well, I didn’t think about it then,” said Louise.
She was staring at the brightly polished surface of Schuyler’s desk. There was a desk lamp sitting in the middle and the surface of the desk shone like polished glass.
Suddenly Louise, who was sitting in a chair near the wall, bent over until her eyes were almost even with the desk. She frowned. She got up, stepped around to the other side of the desk and bent over until her eyes were again on an angle with the surface.
Still frowning, she straightened and walked to the outer room where Hogan was grilling his two suspects.
“You rats,” rasped Hogan, “both came back to town to-day because you suspected Schuyler!”
“I admit I came back,” said Pope, “because we were supposed to split Monday. But I had no intention to come to this office until Monday. And, I didn’t come!”
“The same goes for me,” said Talbott.
“Yeah?” roared Hogan. “Well, one of you did come to this office and one of you smashed in the head of Schuyler. And, so help me God I’m—”
Hogan felt a tug at his elbow. He turned impatiently. The girl secretary was smiling at him.
“Mister Hogan,” she said, “maybe I could help you out.”
“I doubt it,” growled Hogan.
“Well, would it help you if I could tell you that one of these men was in here to-day?” asked Louise.
“Would it!” gasped Hogan. “Why, good grief, girl, that’s what we’ve been trying to find out for hours.”
The girl was smiling reassuringly.
“Well, I can tell you,” she said.
“Well, why didn’t you tell us before?” roared Hogan.
“Because I just found it out. I just found out that... that—”
“That what?” asked Hogan.
“That Talbott was in here to-day,” she said simply.
There was a moment of tense silence as they all stared at her incredulously. It was Talbott who first found words.
“You lie!” he snarled.
“Oh, no,” said the girl. “You were in here to-day and I can prove it. You sat at that desk.” She turned to Hogan. “Want me to prove it, Mr. Hogan?”
“Lord, yes!”
They followed her into the next room — everyone. The girl walked over to the desk, bent over until her eyes were nearly level with it.
“You see,” she said, “there is a smudge on that desk.”
Hogan could see a smudge and he said so.
“Well, it wasn’t there this morning,” said Louise triumphantly.
“But,” said Hogan, “what does that prove? That smudge isn’t a fingerprint!”
The girl grinned.