Prev | Current Page 161 | Next

Vance, Louis Joseph, 1879-1933

"The Brass Bowl"

"
"Thank you. Furthermore, sleuth, you say that you followed me around town
from seven o'clock until--when?"
"I said--" stammered the plain-clothes man, purple with confusion.
"No matter. I didn't leave the Primordial until a quarter to eleven. But
all this aside, as I understand it, you are asserting that, having given
you all this trouble to-day, and knowing that you were after me, I
deliberately hopped into a cab fifteen minutes ago, came up Fifth Avenue
at such breakneck speed that this officer thought it was a runaway, and
finally jumped out and ran up-stairs here to fire a revolver three times,
for no purpose whatsoever beyond bringing you gentlemen about my ears?"
Hickey's jaw sagged. The cabby ostentatiously covered his mouth with a
huge red paw and made choking noises.
"Pass it up, sarge, pass it up," he whispered hoarsely.
"Shut yer trap," snapped the detective. "I know what I'm doin'. This
crook's clever all right, but I got the kibosh on him this time. Lemme
alone." He squared his shoulders, blustering to save his face. "I don't
know why yeh done it----"
"Then I'll tell you," Maitland cut in crisply. "If you'll be good enough
to listen." And concisely narrated the events of the past twenty-four
hours, beginning at the moment when he had discovered Anisty in Maitland
Manor. Save that he substituted himself for the man who had escaped from
Higgins and eliminated all mention of the grey girl, his statement was
exact and convincing.


Pages:
149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173