LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

time did Major Benson get home the night his brother was shot?”

      The boy’s eyes opened wide. “He came in about ’leven—right after show time,” he answered, with only a momentary hesitation.

      (I have set down the rest of the questions and answers in dramatic-dialogue form, for purposes of space economy.)

      VANCE: He spoke to you, I suppose?

      BOY: Yes, sir. He told me he’d been to the theater, and said what a rotten show it was—and that he had an awful headache.

      VANCE: How do you happen to remember so well what he said a week ago?

      BOY: Why, his brother was murdered that night!

      VANCE: And the murder caused so much excitement that you naturally recalled everything that happened at the time in connection with Major Benson?

      BOY: Sure—he was the murdered guy’s brother.

      VANCE: When he came in that night, did he say anything about the day of the month?

      BOY: Nothin’ except that he guessed his bad luck in pickin’ a bum show was on account of it bein’ the thirteenth.

      VANCE: Did he say anything else?

      BOY (grinning): He said he’d make the thirteenth my lucky day, and he gave me all the silver he had in his pocket—nickels and dimes and quarters and one fifty-cent piece.

      VANCE: How much altogether?

      BOY: Three dollars and forty-five cents.

      VANCE: And then he went to his room?

      BOY: Yes, sir—I took him up. He lives on the third floor.

      VANCE: Did he go out again later?

      BOY: No, sir.

      VANCE: How do you know?

      BOY: I’d’ve seen him. I was either answerin’ the switchboard or runnin’ the elevator all night. He couldn’t’ve got out without my seein’ him.

      VANCE: Were you alone on duty?

      BOY: After ten o’clock there’s never but one boy on.

      VANCE: And there’s no other way a person could leave the house except by the front door?

      BOY: No, sir.

      VANCE: When did you next see Major Benson?

      BOY (after thinking a moment): He rang for some cracked ice, and I took it up.

      VANCE: What time?

      BOY: Why—I don’t know exactly.… Yes, I do! It was half past twelve.

      VANCE (smiling faintly): He asked you the time, perhaps?

      BOY: Yes, sir, he did. He asked me to look at his clock in his parlor.

      VANCE: How did he happen to do that?

      BOY: Well, I took up the ice, and he was in bed; and he asked me to put it in his pitcher in the parlor. When I was doin’ it, he called me to look at the clock on the mantel and tell him what time it was. He said his watch had stopped and he wanted to set it.

      VANCE: What did he say then?

      BOY: Nothin’ much. He told me not to ring his bell, no matter who called up. He said he wanted to sleep, and didn’t want to be woke up.

      VANCE: Was he emphatic about it?

      BOY: Well—he meant it, all right.

      VANCE: Did he say anything else?

      BOY: No. He just said good night and turned out the light, and I came on downstairs.

      VANCE: What light did he turn out?

      BOY: The one in his bedroom.

      VANCE: Could you see into his bedroom from the parlor?

      BOY: No. The bedroom’s off the hall.

      VANCE: How could you tell the light was turned off then?

      BOY: The bedroom door was open, and the light was shinin’ into the hall.

      VANCE: Did you pass the bedroom door when you went out?

      BOY: Sure—you have to.

      VANCE: And was the door still open?

      BOY: Yes.

      VANCE: Is that the only door to the bedroom?

      BOY: Yes.

      VANCE: Where was Major Benson when you entered the apartment?

      BOY: In bed.

      VANCE: How do you know?

      BOY (mildly indignant): I saw him.

      VANCE (after a pause): You’re quite sure he didn’t come downstairs again?

      BOY: I told you I’d’ve seen him if he had.

      VANCE: Couldn’t he have walked down at some time when you had the elevator upstairs, without your seeing him?

      BOY: Sure, he could. But I didn’t take the elevator up after I’d took the major his cracked ice until around two thirty, when Mr. Montagu came in.

      VANCE: You took no one up in the elevator, then, between the time you brought Major Benson the ice and when Mr. Montagu came in at two thirty?

      BOY: Nobody.

      VANCE: And you didn’t leave the hall here between those hours?

      BOY: No. I was sittin’ here all the time.

      VANCE: Then the last time you saw him was in bed at twelve thirty?

BOY: Yes—until early in the morning when some dame20 phoned him and said his brother had been murdered. He came down and went out about ten minutes after.

      VANCE (giving the boy a dollar): That’s all. But don’t you open your mouth to anyone about our being here, or you may find yourself in the lockup—understand?… Now, get back to your job.

      When the boy had left us, Vance turned a pleading gaze upon Markham.

      “Now, old man, for the protection of society, and the higher demands of justice, and the greatest good for the greatest number, and pro bono publico, and that sort of thing, you must once more adopt a course of conduct contr’ry to your innate promptings—or whatever the phrase you used. Vulgarly put, I want to snoop through the major’s apartment at once.”

      “What for?” Markham’s tone was one of exclamatory protest. “Have you completely lost your senses? There’s no getting round the boy’s testimony. I may be weakminded, but I know when a witness like that is telling the truth.”

      “Certainly, he’s telling the truth,” agreed Vance serenely. “That’s just why I want to go up. Come, my Markham. There’s no danger of the major returning en surprise at this hour.… And”—he smiled cajolingly—“you promised me every assistance don’t y’ know.”

      Markham was vehement in his remonstrances, but Vance was equally vehement in his insistence; and a few minutes later we were trespassing, by means of a passkey, in Major Benson’s apartment.

      The only entrance was a door leading from the public hall into a narrow passageway which extended straight ahead into the living room at the rear. On the right of this passageway, near the entrance, was a door opening into the bedroom.

      Vance walked directly back into the living room. On the right-hand wall was a fireplace and a mantel on which sat an old-fashioned mahogany clock. Near the mantel, in the far corner, stood a small table containing a silver ice-water service consisting of a pitcher and six goblets.

      “There is our very convenient clock,” said Vance. “And there is the pitcher in which the boy put the ice—imitation Sheffield plate.”

Скачать книгу