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The Case of the Velvet Claws :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 73 из 149He heard the click of the doorknob, and looked up.
Della Street slipped into the office. Her face was white, and her eyes wide. She pushed the door shut behind her, and walked over to the desk.
“There’s a man out in the office that says he knows you,” she said. “His name is Drumm, and he’s a detective from Police Headquarters.”
The door pushed open behind her, and Sidney Drumm thrust a grinning face in the door. His washedout eyes seemed utterly devoid of life, and he looked more than ever like a clerk who had just climbed down from a high stool, and was puttering about, searching for vouchers.
“Pardon the intrusion,” he said, “but I wanted to talk with you before you had time to think up a good one.”
Mason smiled. “We get used to poor manners from policemen,” he said.
“I’m not a cop,” protested Drumm. “I’m just a dick. The cops hate me. I’m a poor, underpaid dick.”
“Come in and sit down,” Mason invited.
“Wonderful office hours you guys keep,” Drumm remarked. “I was looking all over for you, and saw a light up here in the office.”
“No, you didn’t,” Mason corrected him, “I’ve got the shades drawn.”
“Oh, well,” Drumm said, still grinning, “I had a hunch you were here anyway, because I know you’re such a hard worker.”
Mason said, “All right. Never mind the kidding. I presume this is a professional call.”
“Sure it is,” said Drumm, “I’ve got curiosity. I’m a bird that makes a living by having curiosity and getting it gratified. Right now I’m curious about that telephone number. You come to me and slip me a bit of change in order to strongarm a private number out of the telephone company. I bust out and get the number for you, and an address, and you thank me for it very politely. Then you show up at that address, sitting around with a murdered guy and a woman. The question is, is it a coincidence?”
“What’s the answer?” asked Mason.
“No,” said Drumm, “I can’t speculate. I asked the question. You have to give me the answer.”
“The answer,” Mason told him, “is that I was out there at the request of the wife.”
“Funny you’d know the man’s wife, and wouldn’t know the man,” insisted Drumm.
“Isn’t it?” said Mason sarcastically. “Of course that’s the worst part of running a law office.
Della Street slipped into the office. Her face was white, and her eyes wide. She pushed the door shut behind her, and walked over to the desk.
“There’s a man out in the office that says he knows you,” she said. “His name is Drumm, and he’s a detective from Police Headquarters.”
The door pushed open behind her, and Sidney Drumm thrust a grinning face in the door. His washedout eyes seemed utterly devoid of life, and he looked more than ever like a clerk who had just climbed down from a high stool, and was puttering about, searching for vouchers.
“Pardon the intrusion,” he said, “but I wanted to talk with you before you had time to think up a good one.”
Mason smiled. “We get used to poor manners from policemen,” he said.
“I’m not a cop,” protested Drumm. “I’m just a dick. The cops hate me. I’m a poor, underpaid dick.”
“Come in and sit down,” Mason invited.
“Wonderful office hours you guys keep,” Drumm remarked. “I was looking all over for you, and saw a light up here in the office.”
“No, you didn’t,” Mason corrected him, “I’ve got the shades drawn.”
“Oh, well,” Drumm said, still grinning, “I had a hunch you were here anyway, because I know you’re such a hard worker.”
Mason said, “All right. Never mind the kidding. I presume this is a professional call.”
“Sure it is,” said Drumm, “I’ve got curiosity. I’m a bird that makes a living by having curiosity and getting it gratified. Right now I’m curious about that telephone number. You come to me and slip me a bit of change in order to strongarm a private number out of the telephone company. I bust out and get the number for you, and an address, and you thank me for it very politely. Then you show up at that address, sitting around with a murdered guy and a woman. The question is, is it a coincidence?”
“What’s the answer?” asked Mason.
“No,” said Drumm, “I can’t speculate. I asked the question. You have to give me the answer.”
“The answer,” Mason told him, “is that I was out there at the request of the wife.”
“Funny you’d know the man’s wife, and wouldn’t know the man,” insisted Drumm.
“Isn’t it?” said Mason sarcastically. “Of course that’s the worst part of running a law office.