Chapter 4 Chapter Four: The Ambiguous Harper Family

When I arrived at the detective agency at nine o'clock the next morning, Eric Collinson was already sitting in the reception room.His tanned face was dull and lifeless, and his hair had been forgotten to pomade. "Do you know what happened to Miss Leggett?" he asked me, jumping up and rushing to the door. "She wasn't home last night, and hasn't been home yet. Her father didn't say he didn't know where she was, but I dare say he I really don't know. He told me not to worry, but how could I? Do you know any news?" I said I didn't know, and told him I'd seen her leave where Minnie Hershey lived the night before.I gave him the mixed-race girl's address and told him to ask.He pushed his hat back on his head and hurried away.

I got Olga on the phone and asked if he had heard from New York. "Well," he said, "Upton—that's his name. He used to be a fellow of yours, and he had his own detective agency, but in 1923 he got married to a man named Harry Ruburt. Some guy got put in jail for trying to bribe a jury. Did you ask anything about the niggers?" "I don't know. This Rhino Tingley has eleven hundred dollars in cash. Minnie said he won it from a gamble. It's possible, because the cash that Leggett's batch of diamonds can exchange is only half of that amount." .Can you look it up? She said he won it at the Good Day Club."

Olga promised to do her best, then hung up. I wired to the New York bureau for more information on Upton and Rupert, then went to my office in the city council building to check the marriage registration files for August and September 1923.I found what I was looking for in the file of August 26th, in which was entered Edgar Leggett's statement that he was in Atlanta, Georgia, on March 6th, 1883. Born, and this is his second marriage; Alice Dunn stated that she was born in London, England, on October 22, 1888, and has no marriage history. When I got back to the detective agency, Eric Collinson was waiting again, his blond hair even messier than before.

"I saw Minnie," he said angrily, "but she doesn't know anything. She said Gabriel went to her last night to tell her to go back to work, and that's all she knew. But she—she wore I got an emerald ring, and I'm sure it's Gabrielle's." "Did you ask her what happened?" "Ask who? Minnie? No. How can I talk? It'd be—you know." "Yes," I agreed, remembering Fitzstephan's so-called theory of chivalry, "we must observe etiquette. So why did you lie about the time you and Miss Leggett got home that night?" Embarrassment made his countenance look more attractive, but also more stupid.

"I'm so unwise," he muttered, "but I didn't...you know—I thought you...I was worried..." He really didn't tell the reason, so I induced: "You think it's too late, and if you tell me, you will be afraid that I will misunderstand her?" "Yes, that's what it means." I shooed him out and went into the detective room.Mitch Linehan, tall, red-faced, in baggy clothes, and Al Mason, slender, swarthy and greasy-faced, were babbling about how they had been shot in the past, each trying to make it more shocking than the other.I told them about the characters and connections in Leggett's case that I had so far--in words, this is not a lot of information--and I told Al to monitor Leggett's house and Mitch to monitor the Leggett case. Minnie and the rhino.

When I rang the bell an hour later, Mrs. Leggett opened the door, a haze cast over Joy's face.We went into a room decorated in green, orange and brown to meet her husband.I told them what Olga had heard from New York about Upton, and that I had telegraphed more about Rupert. "Several of your neighbors have seen a man who wasn't Upton haunt the neighborhood," I said, "and a man of similar appearance has been seen escaping the fire escape where Upton was killed. We'll just wait Look at Rupert's true face." I watched Leggett's face intently as I said this, and saw no change.There was nothing but interest in those unusually bright red-brown eyes.

"Is Miss Leggett there?" I asked. "No." He replied. "When will she be here?" "Maybe not back for a few days. She's out of town." "Where can I find her?" I asked, turning to Mrs. Leggett. "I have something to ask her." Mrs. Leggett avoided my eyes and looked at her husband. In response to my question, his tone is flat and relentless: "We don't know very well either. Two of her friends, a couple named Harper, drove up from Los Angeles and asked her to go out in the mountains with them. I don't know them. Which way they plan to go, and maybe they haven't even decided on their destination yet."

I asked about the Harpers.Leggett admits he knows little.Mrs. Harper's name was Carmel, he said, and everyone called the husband Bud, but Leggett wasn't sure if his real name was Frank or Walter.Nor did he know the Harpers' address in Los Angeles.It seemed to him that they had a house in Pasadena, but he wasn't sure.Because, in fact, he'd heard they'd sold the house, but maybe only with the intention of doing so.While he was talking nonsense to me like this, his wife kept her eyes on the floor, and twice quickly raised her blue eyes to her husband imploringly. I asked her, "Don't you know anything about them other than that?"

"I don't know." She replied weakly, and glanced at her husband's face, but he didn't pay attention, and kept looking at me steadily. "When did they leave?" I asked. "Early this morning," Leggett said, "they're staying at a hotel—I don't know which one—and Gabriel was with them last night to get ready for an early start." I had heard enough about Harper, so I asked, "Have any of you ever heard of Upton before this happened? Were there any dealings with him?" "No." Leggett replied. I had other questions, but none of the answers made sense, so I got up to say goodbye.I was going to tell him what I thought of him, but what good was that?

He also stood up and said with a polite smile: "I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble for the insurance company. After all, it was all due to my negligence. I would like to ask your opinion-do you think I should pay for diamonds?" I am responsible for the disappearance, and bear the loss myself?" "Looking at the situation," I said, "I think you should. But the investigation has to go on." Mrs. Leggett quickly covered her lips with her handkerchief. "Thank you," Leggett said, his voice sounding relaxed and polite. "I'll think about it."

I stopped by Fitzstephan's for half an hour on my way back to the office.He said he was writing an article for the Review of Psychopathology—I may have misremembered the title, but it was that kind of publication anyway—decrying hypotheses about the unconscious or subconscious as traps and lies for the unwary, Playing the role of a fraudster undermines the very foundations of the profession, making it impossible for serious scholars at all—or almost—to expose the deceitfulness of psychoanalysts, behavioral therapists, and the like.He babbled repeatedly for ten minutes, and finally got back to the topic: "So, how are you tracking down the missing diamond?" "It's either this or that," I said, and told him what I'd gotten so far. "You, without a doubt," he congratulated me when I had finished, "made things terribly complicated." "Wonderful!" I predicted. "I'd like to have ten minutes alone with Mrs. Leggett. If her husband isn't there, she should be able to make some sense. Can you get anything out of her? I think." Knowing why Gabrielle left—it doesn't matter if you don't know where." "I'll try it," Fitzstephan agreed willingly. "I reckon I'll go there tomorrow afternoon--to borrow a book. Witt's Rose Cross would do. They know I'm interested in that sort of thing." .He should be working in the lab, so I will pretend that I don't want to disturb him. I have to pretend to be casual chatting, maybe I can really get something out of her." "Thanks," I said, "see you tomorrow night." I spent most of the afternoon putting my discoveries and conjectures on paper, trying to figure out what to do.Eric Collinson called twice to ask if I had heard from his Gabrielle.Neither Mitch Linehan nor Al Mason reported anything.As soon as six o'clock came, I called it a day.