Chapter 6 Chapter Six

"It can be arranged." He conceded. "And," Leith went on, "she wants $10,000 in cash." "Wait," Bellevue said, and Leith heard whispers on the other end of the phone. "We can give $2,500," Bellevier said. "No," Leith told him, "ten thousand or nothing. I'll see my lawyer as soon as I hang up. I personally think she deserves a lot of money. You—" "Wait a minute," said Bellevier. This time they didn't bother to muffle their whispers, and Leith could even hear their whispers. "You asked Bernice Lamen to come to my office," said Bellevier.

Leith laughed, "No way. You can't talk to her until you agree to give $10,000. Or you talk to a lawyer." After a brief pause, Leith heard Bellevue mutter something, apparently speaking to someone standing next to him: "He said it was $10,000 or it wasn't. That was too much, what should we do?" The low voice made a suggestion, and Bellevier said into the microphone: "I'll show you, my lawyer is here. We've discussed it, you can sue or you don't. We're going to pay the bill." $5,000 in cash." Lester Leith smiled into the microphone. "You saved yourself a lawsuit," he said.

"Okay, tell Miss Lamen to come to my office immediately." Lester Leith put down the phone, leaned over, and picked up the thousand dollars from under Bernice Lamen's saucer. She looked up at him, her eyes widened suspiciously: "You mean—" Leith said: "You don't have to worry so much. With your face and figure, you can at least go to Hollywood to try a shot. A girl can do a lot of things with $5,000." Sergeant Carmichael was smoking a cigar with gusto and reading the sports page of the morning paper when Sergeant Ackley entered the office with a cardboard folder.

"What is it this time?" Carmichael raised his head and asked with a frown. Sergeant Ackley sat across from the sheriff's desk. "That fellow Leith," he said disgustedly. "What's the matter with him?" "Beaver said he wrote me a letter, and Beaver thought I'd better know what it said before Leith sent it." Sheriff Carmichael's eyes flickered: "Is it a confession?" "Listen," said Inspector Ackley, "and then you tell me." Ackley opened the cardboard folder and read a photocopied letter. My dear police officer: Original manuscripts by famous authors sometimes fetch astonishing prices.I imagine that one day my work will also be acquired by discerning collectors for tens of thousands of dollars, and of course that may be a little egotistical.After all, though, that's what Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Louis Stevenson, and other famous writers must have thought when they looked at their manuscripts.

This story, my dear officer, has been returned by the editor, which may make it even more valuable.Anyway, I want to give it to you as a token of friendship and also as a token of my appreciation for your passion for law enforcement, despite the inconvenience it has caused me. Sergeant Ackley looked up. "Now," he asked, "do you hear anything?" "Nothing," said Inspector Carmichael. "I thought so too, but he told Beaver that the letter wasn't going out until tomorrow, so Beaver thought it might be necessary for me to know about it today." "What is this manuscript?" asked Carmichael.

"A bunch of boring stuff," Ackley said. "Have you seen it?" "Oh, I went through it." Sergeant Carmichael reached for the manuscript. "Is this a copy?" "Ok." "why?" "He's not posting the letter until tomorrow, you know, so the original is still with him." Sheriff Carmichael frowned and looked at the copy: "There must be a reason why he sent it to you." "Old trick, just trying to insult me." Sheriff Carmichael frowned and stared at his cigarette butt: "Don't be too sure, officer. You know, Leith may plan to get the stolen goods himself, and then give you a clue to catch the villain."

"Why would he do that?" "Oh, you know, this case is a little different from any other we've worked on. It's very much an inside operation, and I don't think Leith would bother to protect a house thief." "All he cared about was the stolen goods." "So have you seen any of this?" Carmichael asked. Sergeant Ackley took a cigar from his vest pocket and nodded. Carmichael flipped through the manuscript quickly.Suddenly he said, "Wait, what's this?" "Where is it?" asked Ackley. "On page five," Carmichael said, "listen to this passage:

It is not possible to hide a set of blueprints anywhere.This requires a long hollow tube that will be very difficult to hide. " "Well," said Ackley with a snort, "so what?" Sheriff Carmichael's excitement was palpable. "Wait a minute!" he exclaimed, "this is just setting the stage for the next passage. Listen to this passage: As soon as the actress I hired started calling the police, I immediately noticed a man holding a shotgun.The man was in the Precision Instruments office and was standing in the doorway of an office adjacent to the office where the safe was located.A shotgun, what fun!

Sheriff Carmichael raised his head: "Hey, do you understand?" "See what?" said Inspector Ackley. "That shotgun!" Carmichael yelled. Inspector Ackley said: "We know all too well that Frank Paxson, the editor of the local news, has been into the sport of skeet shooting—" "Are there any pictures of this?" Carmichael asked. "Same as what you just saw, without any particular significance." "That shotgun!" cried Inspector Carmichael. "Don't you understand, idiot? That shotgun!" "What happened to the shotgun?"

Sheriff Carmichael moved his chair back.His voice showed that he was trying to control his temper: "Lester Leith wanted to show you this manuscript tomorrow. You are now seeing it 24 hours early. In this manuscript, Leith I intend to guide you on how to capture the thief who stole the blueprints. At that time, Leith intends to get the blueprints and has already concealed his actions so that you can't catch him. Thanks to Beaver's hard work, You got these things 24 hours in advance, but you can't understand the meaning of it." Officer Ackley's face became a little unhappy. "Oh," he asked, "what does that mean?"

Sheriff Carmichael rose to his feet. "Go get a police car," he said, "and I'll tell you what it means." Frank Paxon snapped on the inter-office communication speaker.The receptionist said, "Here are two gentlemen from the police headquarters." Paxon smiled all over his face: "Bring them in." Sergeant Carmichael began: "We're working on that blueprint case, Paxon. The burglar must have prepared an extraordinary hiding place. All he needs is a second or two to slip the blueprint out of the safe." Take it out and put it in this hiding place." "In other words," Carmichael went on, "the inference we are now confirming is that the burglar prepared his hiding place so carefully that, although it was within reach, no one would think to look there. The ground had to be somewhere he could push the drawings in, a long, slippery thin tube. Thereafter, the tube could be taken out of the building without arousing the slightest suspicion." Paxon is no longer smiling now. "A man could hold a shotgun," Carmichael went on, "stand right in front of a safe, and claim he was looking for a burglar, and people would naturally think of a shotgun as a weapon, not a place to hide!" Paxon blushed, and small beads of sweat ooze on his forehead.He cleared his throat and said, "I don't know what you're insinuating about, Sheriff. As far as I'm concerned, I happened to have a gun with me. When I heard someone calling for the police, I naturally grabbed the gun." .are you insinuating—” "Say you put the blueprint in the barrel," Sergeant Carmichael said. "No, no! I swear I didn't, absolutely not!" Sheriff Carmichael pursued: "Yes, you did it, Paxon. You grabbed the gun and you stood next to the safe with the gun in your hand. Everyone thought you were standing there to protect the company." property. No one thought it would be you—” "I'm telling you, I didn't. I..." Carmichael stood up. "Let's check your gun, Paxon." Paxon moved his chair back and grabbed the gun behind the desk. "No," he said. "This gun is my personal property. You can't look at it without a warrant." Sergeant Ackley stepped forward defiantly. Paxon jumped back and raised the gun as if he was going to use it as a weapon, as if facing the enemy. "Don't come here," he shouted, "I'll break your skull—" He fell silent when he saw the dark muzzle of Sheriff Carmichael's revolver pointed at him. "Hand them over," Carmichael said. Paxon hesitated for a moment, then lowered his gun.His knees began to give way. "Is the drawing in the barrel now?" Sergeant Carmichael asked. Paxon shook his head. "It's money in exchange for blueprints," he said. "Did Carmichael and Ackley pay you, Paxon?" "Gilbert, the furrier." "Is he planning and manipulating all this?" Carmichael asked. "He and Fanny Gilmyer, in fact, have no customers at all. Fanny Gilmyer has been watching the office here. She sees no one around, so I can rush to the safe and grab the blueprint. , slipped out before anyone knew what I was doing, so she threw the shawl out the window, and started calling the cops. I just had time to grab the shotgun, jump over to the safe, stuff the blueprints into the barrel, and stand with the gun there." "Where are the drawings now?" "I gave them to Gilbert. I took out the gun I had with me last night and walked right under the guard's eyes." Sheriff Carmichael frowned: "You got the gun back today?" "yes." "why?" "Don't you understand?" Paxson said, "I got thirty thousand dollars from these blueprints. They were all fifty-dollar bills. I wouldn't dare keep them in my house, and I wouldn't dare take them with me. So I rolled the bills up to fit in the barrel of the gun and stuffed them in. That way I could carry them around all day. I was ready to fly away because I was afraid of being suspicious .” Carmichael whistled softly: "So there's $30,000 in that gun?" Paxon nodded. Carmichael walked around the table, leaned over, picked up the gun, and opened the barrel. Officer Ackley accidentally said, "There's no money here now." Sheriff Carmichael kicked Ackley in the shin.Paxon jumped to his feet. "There's no money there!" he said, grabbing the gun, and staring in surprise, "but it ain't my gun!" Sergeant Carmichael nudged Sergeant Ackley's ribs lightly with his elbow. "It's not my gun," Paxon repeated, "it's the same make and style, but mine has a scratch and..." His voice trailed off. "Well, go on," said Inspector Ackley. A sly smile appeared on Paxon's face. "Ha, ha," he said, "I just played a big joke on you." "What big joke?" Inspector Ackley asked. "It's my gun, of course," Paxon said. "I've never seen the blueprints, but since you guys think you're such a great detective, I thought I'd play you for a while." Inspector Carmichael said, "You've got a pretty quick brain, don't you, Paxon?" Sergeant Ackley turned to the Sheriff, frowning, bewildered. "I don't understand at all, Sheriff," he said. Sergeant Carmichael drew the handcuffs from his back pocket. "If," he said, "your snotty mouth hadn't just said that the money wasn't there, he'd have given it all up and down. Now it seems , if we go get Gilbert and his clerk right away, we can still get those blueprints back. As for the money - well, we can still get it back, if we act fast enough, thanks to you 24 hours in advance Got that manuscript. Do you get it now, idiot?" Officer Ackley stared at Sergeant Carmichael, his eyes seemed to be unable to concentrate: "You mean, Lester Leith has been here to change his gun..." "Exactly," said Inspector Carmichael. "Hey, come on, go to Gilbert's first..." Bernice Lamen with Lester Leith, slowly sipping her last drink.She lifted her eyes to his profile, full of gratitude. "I don't know," she said, "how can I thank you. I—" A waitress standing by the window came towards the table and bowed respectfully to Lester Leith. "Sorry to bother you," he interrupted, "is your car number XL552?" Leith narrowed his eyes. "That's my license plate number," he admitted. "I think you've violated the parking regulations. I just noticed a couple of cops had a look at your car, and they're sitting in a police car just outside the door, apparently waiting for you to get back in." Lester Leith absently fished a roll of bills from his pocket, took out a $10 bill, and thrust it into the hand of the assistant waiter. "Thank you very much," he said, "I tore up a couple of parking tickets and I think they got me this time. By the way, can you get me about a hundred of these tissues?" The assistant waiter stared at the bill: "Thank you, sir. Tissues? Oops, there are, there are." Lester Leith turned to his companion. "On second thought," he said, "I think I'd better not be there when you go talk to Jason Bellevue. Well, I'm leaving here in a minute, and you'd better wait ten to fifteen minutes." Go on and take a taxi to Bellevue's office." The assistant waiter brought a large stack of small tissues. "My gun," Lester Leith explained, "needs to be wiped down. I wonder if I could go into the kitchen and wipe it down with a paper towel?" "Oh, sure, but you don't have to use a tissue. I can get you a cloth—" "No," Leith said, "paper towels are better." He stood up and bowed to Bernice Lamen. She watched in bewilderment as he followed the assistant waitress toward the kitchen, but wasn't too surprised that he had disappeared.She waited a full 15 minutes before heading for the door. "Wait a minute," said the assistant waiter, "he dropped a gun." "Oh, yes, he dropped it. He left?" "Yes, from the kitchen door to the alley." Bernice Lamen smiled brightly: "In this case, you'd better keep this gun safe, he will come to fetch it later." Officer Ackley was sitting in the police car and suddenly grabbed Sergeant Carmichael's arm: "God, he came out of that alley. He still has that gun." "Don't worry, Sergeant," said Inspector Carmichael, "you can do it when you're sure." Lester Leith walked up to his car with a gun case on his shoulder and a suitcase in his hand, then got in and sat behind the wheel. Sergeant Carmichael said, "Well, Sergeant, show your hand, but don't act until you're sure you can get someone else back." Officer Ackley nodded, got out of the police car, and walked back toward Leith's car. Lester Leith had just put his foot on the starter when Officer Ackley tapped him on the shoulder. Liz raised his head, his face full of shock. "It's you!" he said. Officer Ackley grinned triumphantly. "I was just checking for stolen shotguns," he said. "That shotgun in the box is yours, right?" Leith hesitated visibly for a moment. "I just wanted to take a look," said Inspector Ackley. He yanked the gun out of the car window, opened the end of the case, and pulled the barrel out into the sunlight.The barrel on the left is smooth and shiny, but the barrel on the right is stuffed with paper rolls. Inspector Ackley grinned triumphantly again.He threw the gun into the back seat of the car. "Come on, Leith," he said, "you've got to go to Police Headquarters." Leith said, "I don't know what you mean." "Yes. But it doesn't matter, I've got you," said Officer Ackley proudly. "Your luck is over. Take the car to the main office, or I'll handcuff you and call the police car." Without saying a word, Leith started the car and drove towards the main office.Sergeant Carmichael followed in case Leith tried to escape. In front of the clerk, Akeley was very proud. "Well, guys," he said, "I'm going to show you a clever deduction. Give me something to poke the barrel of this shotgun, and I'm going to show you a little parlor trick. " "Stop showing off," said Inspector Carmichael. But Officer Ackley couldn't resist the lure of Glory. "Look here," he said, and an officer handed him a log stick. "I have nothing in my hands and nothing in my sleeves. I stuffed this log stick into the left barrel of the shotgun, and there was nothing. Next, I stuffed it into the right barrel, and you will see that it is worth 30,000 yuan, There were $50 bills scattered on the floor." Ackley pushed hard on the makeshift cleaning rod. Surprised, there was a silence.Then as the tissue from the barrel of the shotgun was sprayed, the room burst into laughter. "It's a new thing," said Leith politely, "and I was told it would keep the barrel from rusting. I decided to stuff the right barrel with paper, and leave the left empty, and put the Let the gun sit for six months and see which barrel is in better condition. I'm sorry, Sergeant, you ruined my trial." Sergeant Carmichael grabbed Sergeant Ackley's arm. "Come on," he said. "I didn't really steal the tissues, they gave them to me," Lester Leith told the clerical officer. Sergeant Carmichael pushed Officer Ackley out. "Damn it, officer, I've warned you long ago that the great danger in fishing the Chinese way is that you have to make sure there is always a rope around the bird's neck." Inspector Ackley said: "Why, Sergeant, I'd like to get one of those gannets to take to the lake—" "It's no use to you," said Inspector Carmichael loudly. "You don't know how to tie the neck of a bird so it doesn't swallow the fish."