Читать книгу The Winter Murder Case - S.S. Van Dine - Страница 5

CHAPTER I. AN APPEAL FOR HELP

(Tuesday, January 14; 11 a.m.)

“How would you like a brief vacation in ideal surroundings–winter sports, pleasing company, and a veritable mansion in which to relax? I have just such an invitation for you, Vance.”

Philo Vance drew on his cigarette and smiled. We had just arrived at District Attorney Markham’s office in answer to a facetious yet urgent call. Vance looked at him and sighed.

“I suspect you. Speak freely, my dear Rhadamanthus.”

“Old Carrington Rexon’s worried.”

“Ah!” Vance drawled. “No spontaneous goodness of heart in life. Sad. So, I’m asked to enjoy myself in the Berkshires only because Carrington Rexon’s worried. A detective on the premises would soothe his harassed spirits. I’m invited. Not flatterin’. No.”

“Don’t be cynical, Vance.”

“But why should Carrington Rexon’s worries concern me? I’m not in the least worried.”

“You will be,” said Markham with feigned viciousness. “Don’t deny you dote on the sufferings of others, you sadist. You live for crime and suffering. And you adore worrying. You’d die of ennui if all were peaceful.”

“Tut, tut,” returned Vance. “Not sadistic. No. Always strivin’ for peace and calm. My charitable, unselfish nature.”

“As I thought! Old Rexon’s worry does appeal to you. I detect the glint in your eye.”

“Charming place, the Rexon estate,” Vance observed thoughtfully. “But why, Markham, with his millions, his leisure, his two adored and adoring offspring, his gorgeous estate, his fame, and his vigor–why should he be worrying? Quite unreasonable.”

“Still, he wants you up there instanter.”

“As you said.” Vance settled deeper into his chair. “His emeralds, I opine, are to blame for his qualms.”

Markham looked across at the other shrewdly.

“Don’t be clairvoyant. I detest soothsayers. Especially when their guesses are so obvious. Of course, it’s his damned emeralds.”

“Tell me all. Leave no precious stone unturned. Could you bear it?”

Markham lighted a cigar. When he had it going he said:

“No need to tell you of Rexon’s famous emerald collection. You probably know how it’s safeguarded.”

“Yes,” said Vance. “I inspected it some years ago. Inadequately protected, I thought.”

“The same today. Thank Heaven the place isn’t in my jurisdiction: I’d be worrying about it constantly. I once tried to persuade Rexon to transfer the collection to some museum.”

“Not nice of you, Markham. Rexon loves his gewgaws fanatically. He’d wither away if bereft of his emeralds.... Oh, why are collectors?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. I didn’t make the world.”

“Regrettable,” sighed Vance. “What is toward?”

“An unpredictable situation at the Rexon estate. The old boy’s apprehensive. Hence his desire for your presence.”

“More light, please.”

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