I parked my car on the opposite side of the street, crossed over to the bungalow which had the number I wanted, and rang the bell. After a second or two, I heard the pound of masculine feet. The man who opened the door was shaving; lather was still on one side of his face. He looked at me, looked at the handbag in my right hand, and said: “No magazine subscriptions — and what do you want to work your way through college for, anyhow? You’re too good looking to waste your time in a college.”
He was the beefy type, with a good-natured grin, rather thick lips, black patent leather hair, slicked back smoothly, black, bushy eyebrows, and twinkling gray eyes. Looking him over, I just had an idea he was going to be a pretty tough customer to handle on cross-examination. I certainly hoped Barney Killigen had some idea of how he was going about that cross-examination.
I gave him a coquettish smile. “I’m glad you think I’m pretty.”
His eyes became wary and watchful. “So what?” he asked, losing the banter in his voice.
“Just how pretty,” I asked, “do you think I am? No, not just my face; look me over.”
I swung around slowly, so he could get a good look.
He did.
“Well,” he said, with an appreciation which he tried to keep out of his voice, “I’d say you were tops.”
I laughed, and said: “I’m afraid a fortune teller would tell you that your head line dominated your heart line, Mr. Lame.”
“Oh, you know who I am, then?”
“Of course,” I said. “Why do you think I came here?”
“I’ll bite,” he said. “Why did you come here?”
“Dame Rumor hath it that you’re judging a bathing beauty contest this afternoon, at two o’clock. I’m one of the applicants for first prize. May I come in?”
He hesitated a moment, while he put two and two together in that methodical mind of his. Then his grin lost all of its caution and threatened to engulf his ears. “Come on in,” he said. “Come right on in!”
I went in and took a seat on the door side of the living room. He indicated his face, and said:
“You’ll have to excuse me for a few minutes, while I get some lather off, and slip into a coat.”
It was that simple. The skunk came out, an inert, slumbering polecat, which I slid in under a davenport with the edge of the handbag. Five minutes later, when Lame came out, I was glancing through a magazine.
He sniffed the air, and said:
“Something smells funny. What is it?”
“Ether,” I told him.
“How did that smell get in here?”
“From the hospital,” I said. “I just came from there. My sister was struck with an automobile, and has a broken leg. They had quite a time reducing the fracture. They used ether. I was standing by her, and got pretty well saturated with it.”
“How’s she coming?” he asked.
“She’s going to be all right,” I said, “but it’s going to take money, and that’s what I wanted to see you about. I need five hundred dollars in a hurry.”
He licked his chops.
“There’s five hundred bucks in it for the winner of that bathing beauty show this afternoon,” I said. “I’m going to enter. What do you think of my chances?”
I decided to give him a glimpse of silk stocking, just to make the play look good — not too much, just a bit of a gesture.
He fell for it in a big way.
“Now wait a minute,” I told him, as he lurched up out of his chair. “This is a business proposition. You and I understand each other. I’m talking with you now. You’re doing the listening. I want that first prize. The contest is at two o’clock this afternoon. You see that I come out of there with the blue ribbon and the five hundred bucks, and, after that, you do the talking and I’ll do the listening.”
“The bird in the hand,” he told me, “is worth two in the bush.”
“It depends on the bird — and the bush,” I said, picking up my empty handbag and starting for the door. “I just wanted to drop in and get acquainted.”
“This,” he protested, “is a hell of a way to get acquainted.”
I smiled back over my shoulder, with my hand on the doorknob. “Isn’t it?” I agreed, and stepped out into the bright sunlight.
VI
That was all I ever knew of the mechanics of the thing. That was one thing about Barney Killigen: if anybody had to take chances, walking around the outside of the gates of State’s prison, it was Barney Killigen who took ’em. You did what he told you, and you kept yourself in the clear; but, for the most part, you didn’t ask questions, and, sometimes, you didn’t particularly specialize on deductions — you just tagged along and played ball.
Barney Killigen was representing both James Grayson and Estelle Whiting by the time the preliminary hearings were called, and the D. A. indicated he was going to try them together. At any rate, so far as the preliminary examination was concerned.
Judge Tammerlane was the magistrate, and Judge Tammerlane was absolutely fair. He had a sense of humor, and I think he really enjoyed Barney Killigen’s antics. He called the case of The People vs. Grayson and Whiting. Carl Purdue, one of the most aggressive trial deputies of the district attorney’s office, announced that he was ready for the prosecution. Barney Killigen signified the defendants were ready, and the show started.
Mrs. Chester-Smith was there in response to our subpoena, and was mad as a wet hen. I think the deputy district attorney really wanted her there, but he didn’t dare to antagonize so influential a person by hauling her into court as a common, ordinary witness. I think he was secretly pleased that we had done so.
The prosecution called Dwight Chester-Smith, II, to identify the diamond and emerald ring. He testified he was the bridegroom. He had been married the night of the robbery. The ring was one of the wedding presents given by a mutual friend. His uncle had given ten thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills. The currency had been in an envelope, and the suggestion made by his uncle was that the money should be used to defray the expenses of the honeymoon. There had also been other presents, various and sundry pieces of jewelry in addition to huge quantities of linens and silver which would be of value in housekeeping. The jewelry, he explained, was given by the bride’s relatives and his relatives. It was primarily for the bride. The day selected for the wedding had been her twenty-fifth birthday. She had thought it would be nice to be married on her birthday.
He was an innocuous little snob, and probably more to be pitied than blamed. He was the product of inherited wealth, an indulgent mother, and a silver spooned birth.
One by one, he identified articles of jewelry. Carl Purdue turned him over to Barney Killigen for cross examination. Barney Killigen, after seeming undecided whether to tear into him or to let him go, decided in favor of letting him go. The young man tripped off the witness stand with a self-conscious air of blatant virtue which made me want to kick him in the pants.
The butler took the stand. He identified various articles of jewelry as having been recovered the next morning in the grass, along the driveway.
“Why weren’t they recovered before the next morning?” Barney Killigen asked on cross-examination.