The Second Talmage Powell Crime MEGAPACK™: 20 More Classic Mystery Stories
- Автор: Пауэлл Тэлмидж
- Год: 2015
- Язык: английский
- Год: Wildside Press
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Second Talmage Powell Crime MEGAPACK™: 20 More Classic Mystery Stories». Краткое содержание книги:
They strolled across the room, arm in arm. “The old girl reacted just as we knew she would,” Richard snickered.
“How else, Ricky? She thought she was sparing the life of a cherished young friend. Even on the million-to-one chance that she would balk, we had virtually nothing to lose in comparison to the stakes.”
His snicker became a chuckle. “The phone call was the real convincer. When she heard your desperate pleas pouring out of the phone, I knew we had her.”
“You’re so clever, Richard.”
“Not really,” he said, with a note of false modesty. “Once we had tape-recorded your voice, it was simple to rig a little electronic switch and relay to tap the phone and turn on the recorder.”
“It didn’t look simple during those evenings you studied the books and kept tinkering with the thing, running test after test.”
“Perfection, Willa darling, is the better part of discretion, or something to that effect.” They had neared the inner doorway, and he changed the subject. “Now, how about the disguise?”
“Stowed in the bedroom closet, Ricky, along with the diamonds. Just slip the hippie garb, beard, and wig into the building incinerator and Mr. Smith will appear no more.”
“I’ll do it right away, and I’ll stash the diamonds in a better place.” Richard glanced at his wristwatch. “The old lady is coming over.”
“’Natch,” Willa said, “to offer me a bit of solace. So on to Act One, Scene Two...”
She stepped away from Richard’s side. She breathed deeply, her face sobering. Her joy vanished. She blinked hard, and a couple of tears trickled down her cheeks. Her body crumpled inwardly. “Oh, it was awful, Madame,” she wept through shivering teeth. “That dreadful man came in and said he would kill me if his partner didn’t get your diamonds—”
She broke off the quick rehearsal, which she’d practiced many times before, and slipped Richard an elfin look. “Okay, Ricky?”
It was better than okay. She’d have Madame offering a motherly shoulder to cry on. And yet... somehow Richard was held in a moment of strange hesitation.
Willa eased out a breath. “Ricky, what is it?”
He shook his head, refocusing on Willa’s face. “I don’t know... Something the old lady said, about evil doers experiencing their midnight darkness. As if she suspected something.”
“What could she possibly suspect?”
“Nothing, of course,” he admitted.
“It’s just the tension of the game, Ricky. But don’t let it get to you. It won’t last much longer now.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said with sudden shortness. “Just be sure you don’t overplay the description of your mythical assassin to the cops.”
Willa’s eyes sparked, but she held back. “Let’s not fight, darling. It’s neither the time nor the place.”
“You’re right, of course,” Richard said. “It’s just that the old dame shook my nerve at the last minute.” He glanced once more at his watch, making certain he had ample time to take Willa’s hippie costume to the basement incinerator; but he’d taken only a step toward the bedroom when the door from the outside corridor opened without any warning.
Madame Fouchard stood in the doorway, flanked by a lanky, sallow man in a slightly baggy suit.
Willa was off guard for a fraction of a second. Then, her face stamped with pathos, she was rushing across the room. “Oh, Madame, I’m so glad you came.”
“Are you really, my dear?”
Willa was met and sent stumbling back by Madame’s outstretched hand.
The lanky man shouldered the door closed and pulled a leather case from his inside coat pocket, revealing a policeman’s badge. “Lieutenant Sam Gerard,” he said. “Police headquarters. Robbery detail.”
Recovering, Richard started across the room. “Thanks for bringing Madame so quickly, Lieutenant. You can count on our full cooperation to help bring the murderous, thieving hippie to justice.”
Gerard looked at Richard with fisheyes. “I must warn you, Mr. Nollner, that you have the right not to speak except in the presence of your attorney. If you cannot afford a lawyer the state will provide one for you.”
Richard shuffled to a halt in mid-room. He moistened his lips and somehow managed a wry grin. “Lieutenant, if you are accusing me of a preposterous something or other...”
“I’ve discussed my suspicions with Lieutenant Gerard on the way over,” Madame said quietly. “He agrees that the evidence warrants an investigation.”
“Evidence?” Richard echoed. A distinct chill spread through the room. He sensed that Willa felt it also. Instinctively, they huddled a little nearer to each other. “Evidence, Madame?” He struggled to keep strength in his voice. “You heard Willa pleading on the phone for her very life. That was the evidence!”
“I heard Willa’s voice,” Madame corrected. “But nowadays anyone can purchase telephone answering gadgets in any electronics and radio shop. It’s possible I heard Willa’s voice, previously taped for my benefit, while Willa herself was sitting in my office disguised as a hippie, waiting to carry off my diamonds.”
Willa implored with an uncertain hand gesture. “Madame, how can you say such a thing? The experience has been too much for you, you poor dear! You’ve lost—”
“Lieutenant—” Madame broke in coldly.
Gerard said, “Don’t worry, ma’am, if there are hippie clothes and uncut diamonds tucked around on the premises we’ll turn them up. You can bet on that.” Richard stood, unable to move. Willa looked from face to face. Then she went to the couch and sat down in stiff-kneed slow motion. She began crying, very quietly — and now the tears were for real.
Madame nodded for Gerard to go about his work, her gaze coming back at last to Richard. “You seemed like such a nice young man. You and Willa in time might have become like my own children.”
“Madame—”
“No, don’t say anything more, Richard! If it’s any satisfaction, you and Willa did it perfectly — right up to the final touch, the tip-off that came during the masculine act on Willa’s part of lighting the pipe while you were ransacking the vault. Until that moment I did believe Willa was in mortal danger. After that, however, I suspected that I was confronted by a clever young woman — not a man — who had access to the knowledge of our diamond shipment.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Richard said forlornly. “Anyone might have known about the diamonds. There might have been a security leak from the time they left New York.”
“Perhaps, but it’s far more logical for the theft to have been planned by someone inside La Bijouterie.”
“But if you knew, Madame, why did you let me leave the office?”
She raised a brow at his lack of logic. “I’ve had experience with thieves and Brownshirts, Richard. I was no match for you physically. With the diamonds already in Willa’s possession, I couldn’t be sure to what measures you would resort in your desperation to keep the stones. I simply bided my time until a policeman could even the odds.”
Madame walked toward the couch, looking at Willa with a touch of sadness. “Married to Richard for five years...” she mused. “A woman’s engagement and wedding rings become so much a part of her that she’s never really conscious of them being on her finger...”
The Ultimate Prey
Originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, December 1974.
You’ll understand why I can’t pinpoint the location of the Island. It’s one of those hundreds of pieces broken from the mainland mass along the perimeter of the Gulf of Mexico from eastern Texas around to western Florida.
Countless such islands remain as they were created, semitropical mangrove jungles swarming with poisonous life, separated from the throes of civilization by narrow bays, sounds, bayous. These islands run to a type and therefore have much in common.