Читать книгу The Bat Flies Low - Arthur Henry Ward - Страница 18

“What I want to know, Hayes, is just this—” District Attorney Maguire stood glaring at Lincoln Hayes—“You asked me to come along tonight on the strength of our being old friends—because you knew I had authority, if necessary, to gag idle gossip. That’s how I read it, anyway. Well, the thing you were afraid of hasn’t happened. I’m glad. Nobody more so. There’s no case of homicide, but there’s a case of theft. Very good. Do you want this inquiry to go on officially, or do you want it to close, now?”

“Close now,” said Lincoln Hayes.

“It can’t!” said Detective Sergeant Hawley. “Robbery with violence has taken place here, in this house. You owe it to the State to help apprehend the culprit.”

Detective Sergeant Hawley was an awkward man.

“It’s true, Hayes,” growled Maguire.

“In which case,” Hayes replied, unmoved, “I suggest we adjourn to the library. Lobby rather public.... Seems to be something you want to know, Maguire?”

“There is.” Maguire’s unflinching glare remained fixed upon the speaker’s face. “It’s this: Where does Simon Lobb come in?”

“Simon Lobb is president of Lobb’s Central Electric.”

“I guess he’s your big business rival—but what I want to know is—would the thing stolen from here tonight be of any commercial interest to Simon Lobb?”

“It would,” Captain Rorke interjected. “Suppose we adopt Hayes’ suggestion and assemble in the library?”

“What about Lurgan?” Hawley drawled. “I want a few kind words with that bird.”

“I suggest, Hawley,” said Maguire, “that you send for him, right away, and interview him in the library. Is that O.K. by you, Hayes?”

“Quite. But I will conduct the interview.”

Lincoln Hayes pressed a bell. Lurgan appeared, unperturbed and immaculate, from the shadows of a Moorish archway.

“Bring refreshments to the library, Lurgan.”

Lurgan bowed and withdrew. The party went into the library, led by Lincoln Hayes. Hawley brought up the rear, glancing back to the lobby. And as they all gathered in the book-lined apartment:

“I have it in mind that bird’s going to make a getaway,” Hawley muttered.

“I d-d-don’t agree,” Stefanson said.

“You don’t have to!” Hawley snapped back. “It’s not your business, but it is mine.”

“Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen,” said Lincoln Hayes; “looks like being a nasty session.”

Lurgan came in wheeling a silent dinner wagon laden with sandwiches and other snacks: whisky, beer, and two bottles of Rhine wine in an ice bucket.

“Shall I serve, sir?”

“No.” Hayes moved around behind the big table. “But I want a word with you, Lurgan.”

“Very good, sir.”

“This evening,” Hayes went on in his unemotional voice, “just before I returned from the theater, you called Mr. Simon Lobb and gave him certain information. Shall I tell you just what this information was?”

Lurgan retained his magnificent composure, slightly inclined his head, and:

“That is quite unnecessary, sir,” he replied. “I can only suppose that you obtained this information in some way from Miss Wayland. Miss Wayland is very clever and has suspected me for a long time past.”

“Then you don’t deny it?”

“It would be useless to deny it. You could so easily confirm it.”

“Well—I’m damned!” Maguire growled.

Hawley stood, hands in pockets. His expression, as he watched Lurgan, was that of a bird of prey about to pounce. Stefanson looked frankly bewildered. Captain Rorke had taken up his favorite pose on the hearth. He was staring down into the embers.

“In other words, you have been in my household as a spy?”

Lurgan hesitated for a moment, and then:

“In a sense that’s true,” he admitted; “but I have scrupulously attended to my other duties.”

“This bird will choke me,” Hawley drawled, clenching his fists and plunging them deeper into his pockets.

“Am I to suppose,” Lincoln Hayes went on, “that when my former butler, Parker, gave notice, he had really been bought off by Simon Lobb?”

Lurgan slightly shrugged his shoulders.

“I could not say, sir. It is possible that an even better position was found for him.”

“You mean this vacancy was artificially created, so you could get in?”

“Something of the kind no doubt took place, sir.”

“Are you regularly employed by Lobb?”

“No, sir. This is the first time I have acted for him.”

“Acted for him?” Maguire boomed, his huge voice suddenly raised. “You seem to regard your lousy trade in the same class with that of an attorney ... acted for him!”

“What were your particular duties?”

“My instructions were to report instantly to Mr. Simon Lobb in person the arrival here of any consignment from Egypt or of anyone coming from Egypt. Nothing of a criminal nature, sir, in my activities.”

District Attorney Maguire uttered a sound which resembled a muffled roar, threw up his fists, and walked to the further end of the library.

“I am glad, Mr. Maguire,” Hawley drawled, “that you are beginning to share my views about this bird.”

“Despise your methods, Lurgan,” said Lincoln Hayes.

“I regret that, sir, for they are not uncommon in the business world.”

“If you’re an English butler,” rasped Hawley, “I don’t wonder, in their country homes over there, that they keep battle axes on the wall. Anyway, the game’s up, Lurgan. So be careful what you say. I am going to charge you with the attempted murder of Miss Ann Wayland and with the theft of valuable commercial documents from this room tonight....”