«Just a foolish fancy, Henry,» I said, waving an airy hand. Henry went over and looked at the typewriter and the telephone side by side on my writing desk, and the silver-mounted desk set, each piece chased with my initials.
«Well fixed, huh?» Henry said, turning his green gaze on me.
«Tolerably so, Henry,» I said modestly.
«Well, what next pal? You got any ideas or do we just drink some?»
«Yes, Henry, I do have an idea. With a man like you to help me I think it can be put into practice. I feel that we must, as they say, tap the grapevine. When a string of pearls is stolen, all the underworld knows it at once. Pearls are hard to sell, Henry, inasmuch as they cannot be cut and can be identified by experts, I have read. The underworld will be seething with activity. It should not be too difficult for us to find someone who would send a message to the proper quarter that we are willing to pay a reasonable sum for their return.»
«You talk nice — for a drunk guy,» Henry said, reaching for the bottle. «But ain’t you forgot these marbles are phonies?»
«For sentimental reasons I am quite willing to pay for their return, just the same.»
Henry drank some whiskey, appeared to enjoy the flavor of it and drank some more. He waved the bottle at me politely.
«That’s O.K — as far as it goes,» he said. «But this underworld that’s doing all this here seething you spoke of ain’t going to seethe a hell of a lot over a string of glass beads. Or am I screwy?»
«I was thinking, Henry, that the underworld probably has a sense of humor and the laugh that would go around would be quite emphatic.»
«There’s an idea in that,» Henry said. «Here’s some mug finds out lady Penruddock has a string of oyster fruit worth oodles of kale, and he does hisself a neat little box job and trots down to the fence. And the fence gives him the belly laugh. I would say something like that could get around the poolrooms and start a little idle chatter. So far, so nutty. But this box man is going to dump them beads in a hurry, because he has a three-to-ten on him even if they are only worth a nickel plus sales tax. Breaking and entering is the rap, Walter.»
«However, Henry,» I said, «there is another element in the situation. If this thief is very stupid, it will not, of course, have much weight. But if he is even moderately intelligent, it will. Mrs. Penruddock is a very proud woman and lives in a very exclusive section of the city. If it should become known that she wore imitation pearls, and above all, if it should be even hinted in the public press that these were the very pearls her own husband had given her for her golden wedding present — well, I am sure you see the point, Henry.»
«Box guys ain’t too bright,» he said and rubbed his stony chin. Then he lifted his right thumb and bit it thoughtfully. He looked at the windows, at the corner of the room, at the floor. He looked at me from the corners of his eyes.
«Blackmail, huh?» he said. «Maybe. But crooks don’t mix their rackets much. Still, the guy might pass the word along. There’s a chance, Walter. I wouldn’t care to hock my gold fillings to buy me a piece of it, but there’s a chance. How much you figure to put out?»
«A hundred dollars should be ample, but I am willing to go as high as two hundred, which is the actual cost of the imitations.»
Henry shook his head and patronized the bottle. «Nope. The guy wouldn’t uncover hisself for that kind of money. Wouldn’t be worth the chance he takes. He’d dump the marbles and keep his nose clean.»
«We can at least try, Henry.»
«Yeah, but where? And we’re getting low on liquor. Maybe I better put my shoes on and run out, huh?»
At that very moment, as if in answer to my unspoken prayer, a soft dull thump sounded on the door of my apartment. I opened it and picked up the final edition of the evening paper. I closed the door again and carried the paper back across the room, opening it up as I went. I touched it with my right forefinger and smiled confidently at Henry Eichelberger.
«Here. I will wager you a full quart of Old Plantation that the answer will be on the crime page of this paper.»
«There ain’t any crime page,» Henry chortled. «This is Los Angeles. I’ll fade you.»
I opened the paper to page three with some trepidation, for, although I had already seen the item I was looking for in an early edition of the paper while waiting in Ada Twomey’s Domestic Employment Agency, I was not certain it would appear intact in the later editions. But my faith was rewarded. It had not been removed, but appeared midway of column three exactly as before. The paragraph, which was quite short, was headed: LOU GANDESI QUESTIONED IN GEM THEFTS. «Listen to this, Henry,» I said, and began to read.
Acting on an anonymous tip police late last night picked up Louis C. (Lou) Gandesi, proprietor of a well-known Spring Street tavern, and quizzed him intensively concerning the recent wave of dinnerparty hold-ups in an exclusive western section of this city, hold-ups during which, it is alleged, more than two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of valuable jewels have been torn at gun’s point from women guests in fashionable homes. Gandesi was released at a late hour and refused to make any statement to reporters. «I never kibitz the cops,» he said modestly. Captain William Norgaard, of the General Robbery Detail, announced himself as satisfied that Gandesi had no connection with the robberies, and that the tip was merely an act of personal spite.
I folded the paper and threw it on the bed.
«You win, ho,» Henry said, and handed me the bottle. I took a long drink and returned it to him. «Now what? Brace this Gandesi and take him through the hoops?»
«He may be a dangerous man, Henry. Do you think we are equal to it?»
Henry snorted contemptuously. «Yah, a Spring Street punk. Some fat slob with a phony ruby on his mitt. Lead me to him. We’ll turn the slob inside out and drain his liver. But we’re just about fresh out of liquor. All we got is maybe a pint.» He examined the bottle against the light.
«We have had enough for the moment, Henry.»
«We ain’t drunk, are we? I only had seven drinks since I got here, maybe nine.»
«Certainly we are not drunk, Henry, but you take very large drinks, and we have a difficult evening before us. I think we should now get shaved and dressed, and I further think that we should wear dinner clothes. I have an extra suit which will fit you admirably, as we are almost exactly the same size. It is certainly a remarkable omen that two such large men should be associated in the same enterprise. Evening clothes impress these low characters, Henry.»
«Swell,» Henry said. «They’ll think we’re mugs workin’ for some big shot. This Gandesi will be scared enough to swallow his necktie.»
We decided to do as I had suggested and I laid out clothes for Henry, and while he was bathing and shaving I telephoned to Ellen Macintosh.
«Oh, Walter, I am so glad you called up,» she cried. «Have you found anything?»
«Not yet, darling,» I said. «But we have an idea. Henry and I are just about to put it into execution.»
«Henry, Walter? Henry who?»
«Why, Henry Eichelberger, of course, darling. Have you forgotten him so soon? Henry and I are warm friends and we —»
She interrupted me coldly. «Are you drinking, Walter?» she demanded in a very distant voice.
«Certainly not, darling. Henry is a teetotaler.»
She sniffed sharply. I could hear the sound distinctly over the telephone. «But didn’t Henry take the pearls?» she asked, after quite a long pause.
«Henry, angel? Of course not. Henry left because he was in love with you.»
«Oh, Walter. That ape? I’m sure you’re drinking terribly. I don’t ever want to speak to you again. Goodbye.» And she hung the phone up very sharply so that a painful sensation made itself felt in my ear.