The Mysterious Mickey Finn (15 page)

                
‘She had a quick and roving eye,

                
And her hair hung down in ringlets.

                
A nice girl, a decent girl,

                
But one of the roguish kind.'

They all tiptoed past the attendant, who, had he waked and saw they were dressed differently, would have made them pay again. They entered the taxi and drove to the corner of the Avenue Velasquez, where the driver halted and turned towards Evans.

‘Your friend, the barber, was in that Arab joint, much excited. Said he had found the man who was causing you trouble, wanted to speak with you right away,' the driver said.

‘Henri? What could he have wanted?' Evans asked, in surprise.

‘He was not only excited but unreasonable. He had an idea that Ben Sidi and Ben Abou could tell him where to find you. They're a smooth pair, those Arabs.'

‘Well,' Evans said, ‘I can see Henri some other time. Henri can wait. We have graver matters to attend to now.'

‘I hope he'll take good care of my ringlets,' Miriam said.

‘Now,' said Evans, with more animation than he had shown since his exposure by Ibn Hassan, ‘we must have a chat with the ambassador.'

The ambassador was enjoying what he called an old-fashioned cocktail, although it had no fruit in it and very little sugar or water. He received Evans without formality, since he had known Homer's father as a boy, and in fact, had been confirmed by him.

‘Well, Homer. What's up? Decided to let me find a job for you at last? Ought to do something, young man. Don't know why exactly. Never thought it out to the end. But that's what a lot of chaps seem to think. Man ought to work,' the ambassador said. Then he noticed Miriam. ‘Gad, my boy. Didn't notice the girl. Maybe you're going to marry and settle down. Lots of chaps think a man ought to marry. Close thing to decide.'

Miriam was pleased, but equal to the situation. ‘I wouldn't think of disturbing Mr Evans' remarkable peace of mind and his effortless way of living,' she said.

‘Close thing,' said the ambassador. ‘Lots to be said on one side or the other. That's the worst of most questions. Two sides and all that. Nothing ever gets done. Well. Nice to see a good American face. Miss 'em here, you know, in the off season. Then too many at once. Give and take. Ah, well.' He sighed and reached for his whisky.

‘I'm sorry to disturb you,' Evans began…..

‘Nonsense. Glad to see you, my boy. But don't make work for me. Had to spend half the day on that Hugo Weiss affair –cables, phone calls, young chaps in the office all upset. Even had to drop in on the prefect, just to make a show. He promised me a list of addresses. ... You know, Evans, I think Hugo's on a bat. We'll have to hush it up. Do the same for us, I'm sure.'

‘I'm afraid it's more serious than that,' Evans said.

‘You don't say,' the ambassador sighed. ‘Well, if it's serious, something must be done. But what, my boy?'

‘I want your permission to examine his correspondence,' Evans said.

‘Why, sure, my boy. Why not? If the police haven't rummaged around and lost it already. Energetic chaps, the police. Have to be, no doubt, but I often think they'd get farther if they took their time.'

‘As I understand it, you yourself asked the prefect not to open Hugo's mail.'

‘So I did. So I did. Privacy and all that, Evans. Had to say something to those chaps, you know. But you and Hugo are friends. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you took a peek . .. But what makes you think the case is serious? Only gone one day. That's not so bad. If the police had been sicked on me every time I took a little vacation....'

‘I have reason to believe he's been kidnapped,' Evans said.

At this the ambassador was all attention. ‘Kidnapped,' he said. ‘Can't be kidnapped. No ransom note. Always is a ransom note when a chap is kidnapped.'

‘This case is unusual,' Evans said. ‘Some powerful interests want Hugo out of the way for a day or two.'

‘Well. What's the harm of that, if they let him go again? He'll get back at 'em. Smart chap, Weiss. Played poker with him on the old
Dresden.
Nobody's fool.'

‘There is much in what you say,' Evans continued. ‘Had Hugo's philanthropic and business rivals taken charge of him themselves we wouldn't have to worry. But it is more than possible that the spade work, as it were, was turned over to some parties who are not quite as scrupulous where human life is concerned. There's been such a row about the case, the disappearance. ...'

‘I know.'

‘The point is this. If the thugs who did the actual kidnapping get frightened, the natural thing for them to do would be to get rid of Hugo, and that means also getting rid of my friend Colonel Kvek and a Citroën taxi. Here's the difficulty. The evening Weiss disappeared, I and my friends, whom you saw at the
préfecture,
played a little joke on Hugo. Harmless little prank, I assure you, but the police misunderstood, arrested all of the crowd except Miss Leonard and me. And because I'm missing that fathead of a prefect is sure I did away with Weiss. All the police in France are on my trail, and as a matter of fact, I'm the only one who can help them find Weiss. If I show up at the
préfecture
they'll throw me into jail and hold me in-comunicado, and Weiss may lose his life....'

‘Gad, boy, don't say that. What is it you want? I'll do anything you think best.'

‘Could you have me appointed special agent of the U.S. government to co-operate with French authorities in the finding of Weiss and the exposure of an important smuggling ring?'

‘Nothing easier ! Miss Archibald !' he roared.

A trim young woman dressed rather severely appeared as if by magic, notebook in hand. ‘Mary,' the ambassador said, ‘ask this gentleman what he wants done and then do it. If it's necessary to phone the Secretary of State, I'll talk with him myself. But find out just what I ought to say. No beating around the bush.'

‘Surely, Mr Ambassador,' said Mary. Evans followed her into the alcove and explained what was needed. Within half an hour he had a special diplomatic passport, an appointment to the secret service, and a special commission on parchment, with no less than fifteen ribbons and seals, authorizing him to act in behalf of the United States in the matter of Hugo Weiss' disappearance and whatsoever matters not herein set forth which, in his judgement, would further the interests of all concerned, and promote Franco-American co-operation and amity. There was a clause authorizing Homer to open American mail to or from any and all persons, firms, societies, associations, etc. A certified translation, subscribed and witnessed by a notary from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the American ambassador in person accompanied the commission, for the benefit of all and sundry who could not read English.

‘Keep me posted, boy.... And let me know if I can be of service. Good-bye, Miss Leonard. Good American face. Figure, too, for that matter. Sporting of you not to want to ball a man all up and marry him. Come in again, any time,' the ambassador said, as they left.

‘He's an old darling,' said Miriam. Evans had not neglected to secure for her a suitable commission to act at any and all times as his secretary, clerk, assistant, or amanuensis, and this she clutched with youthful pleasure, never having had anything like it before. ‘Oh, here it is in French, too,' she said, scanning the parchment happily. ‘How thoughtful you are.'

I
T
was just before eight o'clock when the body of Ambrose Gring was removed to a waiting ambulance and taken to the mortuary where it was placed on a slab. Dr Toudoux was to perform an autopsy at the earliest possible moment but the most pressing duty he had was to preside over the awakening of the suspects and witnesses from the Hôtel du Caveau. During his long and gruesome experience, the doctor had never heard of a death from
crême de cacao,
but he had found no bullet holes, no wounds from sharp or blunt instruments, no symptoms of organic disorder, and, most annoying of all, no bitter almond odours.

Rigor mortis
had not set in, if anyone gave a damn about that. It was evident that Gring had had so little
rigor vitae
that it was doubtful if he could produce a satisfactory
rigor mortis
which would be useful in determining the hour of death. M. Chalgrin insisted that the murder took place between two o'clock and seven o'clock, but he had made himself so unpleasant about the delay in removing the body that no one in authority was disposed to accept his statements sympathetically.

The routine work had been accomplished without mishap. The glass and its contents, wrapped in a silk handkerchief, had been carefully transported to the laboratory, first to be examined for fingerprints and later to be tested for poisons. Everyone available had been questioned, but no one except one waiter had noticed that a man had sat for a while at the table now labelled G, and that waiter, having served several hundred clients that day, could not be sure whether the man in question was white or coloured, what language he spoke, or whether he had been in conversation with the deceased. At each step of the investigation, the prefect grew more sarcastic with Sergeant Frémont and the latter more disgusted with the world, his profession, his superiors, inferiors, and equals, and especially with Montparnasse. Photographs had been taken of the spot X, the table and chair, the glass and bottle, and several tourists had been trampled in the rush to get into the pictures.

‘I shall expect prompt results,' the prefect said. ‘We are not living in anarchy. If men can disappear from your district, can die without resort to guns, knives, clubs, garrottes, darts, serpents, or bitter almonds, there is need for a shake-up in the department.'

Sergeant Frémont had to come across, or lose his prestige completely. ‘I have already obtained results but you have been too busy to hear about them,' he snapped. ‘I have the American Oklahoma Tom, the picture bandit trigger man, in the Goldfish Bowl. Furthermore, if you care to accompany me at nine o'clock to the Café de la Paix I will produce for you the American Ivan, who may be in Arab costume.'

‘I shall hold you to that,' the prefect said. ‘Come. We've little time. First we must wake up that collection of roisterers and give Gonzo his preliminary grilling.'

Amid the whining and howling of sirens, the official cars departed, leaving Montparnasse, except for the dearth of Arabs, much as it always had been.

The
préfecture
had been the scene of ominous preparations.
Agent
Schlumberger, who had been left in charge of the Caveau suspects, had been in touch with a cousin who led the trumpeters of the
Garde Républicaine
, and also, through an interpreter, had led the Arabs to believe that their prompt release depended upon how lustily they gave the old Arab battle cry when martial music sounded. When the prefect and Sergeant Frémont entered the corridor, eight squads of trumpeters in blue coats, with red trousers, gold epaulettes, and helmets decorated with long white feathers, were lined up in front of the cells. Dr Hyacinthe Toudoux pulled out his watch.

‘Not a note before eight o'clock,' he said.

The real Ibn Hassan was peering through the doorway of the assembly hall, ready to give the signal for the Arab yell, and Jackson, looking foolish without necktie, belt, or shoelaces, watched the proceeding from the brightly lighted Goldfish Bowl.

‘I insist on speaking to the ambassador,' he said.

‘This is no time for joking,' Officer Schlumberger said.

Precisely at eight o'clock the signal was given and the trumpeters let loose with all their wind. The din was stupendous, and when augmented by the frantic war cries of two hundred mad Mohammedans, became hideous.

The first response was from the Swedish actress, who, thrusting aside her blanket, stood erect in her plum-coloured knickers and declaimed, defiantly:

                
‘
Shoot if you must this old grey head.
'

Her cell-mate, Snorre Sturlusson, began to sing Finlandia. The black girl, Cirage, threw herself, Pocahontas-fashion, across Simon's head, to protect him from what she supposed was to be massacre. Gwendolyn Poularde, with true French sense of proportion, said: ‘Well, well'.

About eight measures of the call to arms had been played before Hjalmar stirred. He rubbed his eyes, raised himself to a sitting posture without opening them, finally got to his feet and stretched.

‘Holy mackerel,' he said. ‘I've got drunk and joined the army.' Then, seeing M. Julliard standing nearby, he asked: ‘How much of a stretch are we in for?'

‘This is not the army. We are under arrest,' M. Julliard said.

Hjalmar, paying little attention, felt in his pockets, which were empty, and many things came back to him. He leaped toward the bars, shaking them like harpstrings. ‘Hey, you,' he roared at the prefect, ‘I've been robbed. Someone's taken my money. I had lots of it when I came in here. Don't think you're going to get away with anything.'

While Hjalmar's remarks were being translated to the prefect, the other members of the party set forth complaints and demands of their own; for information, drink, food, liberty, whatever came first to their minds. The
Garde Républicaine
trumpeters were winded, but the Arabs, hearing Hjalmar's roars and understanding, from their tone, that they were in defiance of the prefect and all infidel authority, howled with glee and approval. Jackson, in the Goldfish Bowl, was yelling at the top of his voice and gesticulating violently. And since his grandfather, Habakkuk Jackson, had been master of a famous clipper and had taught him to make himself heard against the wind in a storm, Jackson was able at last to attract Hjalmar's attention. The latter was mildly surprised at being addressed as Gonzo, but the whole situation was bizarre enough to allow for such minor discrepancies.