Carl Watrous still had his coat and hat on. He looked at Murdock through narrowed lids and there was annoyance in his pale-blue eyes but only for a moment. His craggy face creased in a grin.
“Hi,” he said. “What brings you here?”
Murdock did not answer him. He took off his coat and cap and laid the rolled canvas on them.
“I—I thought I’d take another look at that street scene,” Watrous said. “I’m leaving in the morning.”
“I guess you’d like your picture,” Carroll said to Murdock.
“Not now.” Murdock watched the two men a moment and got on with what he had to do. “I want to talk about the murder of Professor Andrada.”
The friendliness went out of Carroll’s face and his eyes were wary. “I’m supposed to know about that, am I?” he said coldly.
“Plenty,” Murdock said.
He heard footsteps on the stairs as he spoke and went over to open the door. Barry Gould came in with the plate-case, his handsome face glowing with excitement.
“Hey, did you know they’ve got George Damon and Louise Andrada down at headquarters?”
“Headquarters?” Watrous said. “Police headquarters?”
“A flash came in just after you’d called,” Gould said to Murdock.
“On what charge?” Watrous said.
“I don’t know.”
Watrous was buttoning his coat. “Maybe I’d better go up and see Louise.”
“Stick around,” Murdock said.
Watrous looked up and now there was a hardness at the angles of his jaw.
“We’ll all go up in a little while,” Murdock said. “I can tell you a little about why Louise is there.”
He gave them a carefully censored account of what he had done and what had happened. “I came down here to get the rest of the story from Carroll,” he said, still talking to Gould. “I was just telling him I thought the odds had caught up with him.”
Barry Gould frowned and the wrinkled hump came at the bridge of his nose. He looked at Murdock and then at Carroll. “How does Watrous figure in this?”
“He came to buy a picture—so he says.”
Watrous sat down and got out his gold cigarette case. Gould took off his coat and Carroll went to the sink to wash his hands.
“There are some maps under the original of the Jade Venus that are worth a lot of money,” Murdock said. “I couldn’t catch up with the Andrada shipment from Italy and I missed it here by a couple of days but I didn’t think it mattered. I thought I was the only one who knew about those maps. I was wrong.”
He waited until Carroll sat down. “George Damon knew. Tony Lorello brought him a letter from Bruno Andrada that told him all about it.”
He explained about finding the letter and what it said and his theory about the hidden writing that had been between the lines. “Also,” he said, “Louise Andrada knew—from her husband. With her it was a question of waiting it out, but she knew the professor was pulling strings to get the shipment and she knew if it arrived she’d get her hands on that picture one way or another. Not so the treasures those maps represented could be returned to the owners, you understand, but to get what she could for Louise.”
Watrous grunted softly. The corners of his mouth pulled down. “I think you’re nuts,” he said.
Murdock ignored this. “Louise got a break,” he said. “The shipment came before she expected it and she saw the Jade Venus and the other two wild pictures Angelo Andrada had included in the shipment as blinds. Possibly, since the professor detested the Jade Venus, she asked for it and was refused; in any case she saw her only hope was to get a copy made. She knew you, Carroll. You were a friend of hers and Andrada had thrown you out of his house and you were sore at him. You made the copy of the Jade Venus.”
Carroll’s bony face remained sullen. Murdock watched him and then gambled with a bluff he made convincing.
“You can tell me or not,” he said curtly. “I’ve already got the story from Louise.”
Carroll accepted the bluff. “Okay, so you’ve got the story. So I made the copy.”
“It had to be either for Louise or Gail,” Murdock said. “No one else in the house could smuggle the original out long enough for you to copy it. Louise brought it out late one night after the professor was in bed. She stayed here with you while you painted your copy—and you admitted it could be done in five or six hours—and then she sneaked back in the house before dawn. But the copy wasn’t dry enough to make a substitution, so that first night she took the original back with her—”
“She said it would be a good joke on Andrada,” Carroll said. “That’s the story she gave me anyway. She made it sound like a good gag. She said she’d keep the original and put the copy in the professor’s studio when it was dry.”
He paused and his mouth twisted. “Well, that was okay with me. I didn’t know the picture meant anything. It was just another lousy oil painting and if Louise wanted it and we could fool the professor I was glad to help put it over.… So the next night when the copy was dry I took it up to the house late and Louise met me at the back door of the studio. We put the copy I’d made on the original stretcher and I brought the real Jade Venus back with me—because Louise didn’t have any place to keep it.”
“Tony Lorello saw it here that day, I think,” Murdock said thoughtfully.
Carroll blinked and frowned. “He could have. He stopped in that afternoon but—”
He left the thought unfinished. Murdock glanced at Watrous and Watrous was sitting on the edge of the couch now and he was looking right back at Murdock.
“Anyway,” Murdock said, “Louise didn’t know George Damon was going to cut himself in. You know what happened to me and what Erloff did to Andrada.” He grunted softly. “I got off the beam on that. I thought Erloff had tipped his hand and that when Andrada went out that first night he went after Erloff; instead when he saw the picture—which until then had been turned to the wall—he recognized your technique and knew the Jade Venus he had was a copy. When he left his house he came here to have it out with you. Not because he knew what the Jade Venus represented but simply because—”
“Go ahead,” Carroll said nastily. “The police haven’t been able to prove I’ve killed him. Let’s see you try.”
“You took the painting of the blue valley to Gail’s apartment yesterday afternoon.”
“Because I wanted her to have it. I told you that.”
“You carried Andrada’s body down to his car and drove it to—”
“That’s what you say.”
Murdock paused. For several seconds no one said anything and the tension in the room began to make itself felt. Finally Barry Gould reached for the canvas Murdock had brought and started to unroll it.
“Is this it?”
Murdock said no and Carroll glanced at it and said, “That’s the copy I made.”
Gould’s brows climbed. “Then what’s the infra-red film for?”
“I’m going to take some pictures of the real Jade Venus,” Murdock said.
“You mean”—Gould stood up and looked about—“it’s here?”
“No. But there were some things I had to straighten out here.” Murdock turned and looked at Gould. “I think the Jade Venus I want is at your place—probably hidden behind the oil you bought from Carroll. The one with the stream and the pine trees. The one you bought when you couldn’t buy the blue valley scene—because it was the same size.”
Gould peered at him. “Are you kidding?”
“Do I sound that way?”
“You mean I’ve got the Jade Venus?”
“And you also murdered Tony Lorello and Professor Andrada.”
A thick hard voice said, “Well, I’ll be damned.” It was Watrous. He had his mouth open. So did Roger Carroll, and both were staring incredulously at Murdock.
Gould stepped to the wall and leaned against it. There was a new pallor in his cheeks now and his eyes were veiled and wary. He shook his head and
managed a grin.
“Well, isn’t that something,” he said. “Tell me more.”
Carl Watrous opened his cigarette case again and Murdock stepped over and took a cigarette. He waited until Watrous gave him a light and the delay was good for him because he was beginning to feel the strain across his back and legs and he wanted to be sure the things he said would count.
“You and Louise started from scratch.” He turned back to Gould. “She found out the secret of the Jade Venus from her husband and you found out from Angelo Andrada—before he died in the concentration camp at Binofro. I admit I’m guessing about that part, but since you did know about the picture, that seems to be the logical explanation. Angelo knew he would not get out of that camp alive and he couldn’t know what happened to his brothers—and you were an American. That’s where he made a mistake—thinking that you could be trusted because of your nationality. He trusted you, believing that you would see that the things he had given his life for were restored and preserved for future generations.”
Murdock paused and the scorn he felt was reflected in his dark gaze and the tight line of his mouth. “He trusted you,” he said again. “But you were the same breed as Louise where money was concerned. You always did spend every nickel you could earn or borrow and this was too good to pass up. You couldn’t be sure when—if ever—you could collect but it was worth waiting and gambling for.… Well, you got back to this country and you started a book and it was easy to interest the professor and get acquainted with the household. Like Louise, you got a break when the shipment turned up so soon.”
Murdock stood up. “Where were you between six and nine on the night of the first murder?”
“At the office—until I left for Andrada’s—and I can prove it,” Gould said.
Murdock felt a quick thrust of triumph. He exhaled slowly and his voice got flat.
“Let’s skip the details,” he said. “You came to Andrada’s place around nine and presently Andrada staggered out of the study with a lump on his head and you knew then that someone else—other than Louise—was after the Jade Venus and had stolen the copy Louise had left at the house. You knew it was a copy because you knew the original was here and you hurried down to get it while Carroll was out with Gail. The trouble was the professor got here too soon. He walked in on you and the original Jade Venus—you’d taken it off the stretcher by that time, hadn’t you?—and he was in no mood to compromise.”
He went on quickly. “You didn’t have to kill. You could have thought of some story to tell him that would have given you a chance to get out, because Andrada didn’t know the significance of the picture. You could have stalled and let him take it if he wanted to. But you couldn’t make a deal and you knew it. You couldn’t make a deal with Andrada and you couldn’t pass up the millions that picture represented, and what was a man’s life to you? You’d seen a lot of death—in Africa and Italy. I guess life is cheap in a concentration camp and in the underground and it was that way to you—if you thought of it at all. Andrada had a gun and somehow in the struggle you got it and then it was the picture or Andrada and you took the picture.”
Carl Watrous got up. “Why, you—”
Murdock cut him off. “Wait a minute!” He looked back at Gould. “So Andrada was dead and you didn’t know where suspicion would fall and you didn’t dare take the Jade Venus with you because to be found with it then would be the same as sitting in the electric chair. So you got an idea. A very bright idea. Two pictures in this rack were about the right size. By measuring you found they were almost exact and so you picked out one—the blue valley scene—and removed it from the inner frame. You slid the Jade Venus under the other canvas and tacked both back in place and put the outer frame on, knowing that no infra-red film would penetrate the canvas of the picture on top and reveal the one hidden below.”
He turned to Carroll. “When did you get back that night? When did you leave Gail?… And don’t lie about it this time.”
Carroll gulped. His long face was still incredulous and it was apparent that he was having trouble keeping up with Murdock’s reasoning.
“Why—I left her about twenty after ten, I guess. I would have been back here around twenty of eleven only I stopped down the street for a beer. I guess I got back here about five minutes of eleven.”
“I guess you can be glad you stopped for that beer,” Murdock said. “If you had walked in on Gould—” He paused. “But you didn’t. Gould walked out of here with the Jade Venus nicely hidden and the professor lying dead on the floor and then he got a break that was bad. The bartender at the Silver Door sent Tony Lorello over here because some customer wanted you to do a sketch. That was about a quarter of eleven.”
He looked back at Gould. “Tony saw you come out, didn’t he?”
Gould’s smile was flat and mean. “Go ahead,” he said, “it’s your story.”
“The time figures,” Murdock said. “And there were two or three ways of figuring where Tony came in. I picked the wrong one first. When I found the copies of the letter he had brought from Bruno Andrada to Damon I thought he had tried to blackmail Damon and had been taken care of, especially when Damon’s car picked him up the night Tony was murdered.”
“You don’t like that, huh?” Gould sneered.
“No,” Murdock said. “I guess Tony didn’t have the nerve to try a thing like that on a guy like George Damon. He read in the paper about the shipment that came to Andrada and he called at the house to see if he could get a peek at the Jade Venus. He knew what it was worth. He saw it here right after that when he stopped to see Roger. I think he was scared to come to the police with his information about the letter he brought because he might be out on a limb for having brought it into the country. He was in the middle in a way and he wouldn’t tell me the truth that night because he didn’t know what would come next. Actually Tony knew plenty, but did nothing. I think he might have had an idea of swiping the Jade Venus from Carroll, if he got the chance and there was no risk. Then, if he could do this, I think he might have gone to Damon later and offered to sell it. But I doubt if he’d try blackmail with the letter.”
Roger Carroll spoke up. “I think you’re right,” he said. “About Tony, I mean. He was interested in that picture. He stopped in that first night and said he’d been by earlier—because someone at the Silver Door wanted me to do a sketch—but I was out. It was about one o’clock then.”
Carroll stopped to gulp air. “I’d found Andrada here dead and I’d seen his car outside and I’d carried him down. I drove to the alley off Congress Street and came back and scrubbed the floor—there was a bloodstain—and Tony came while I was wondering what I should do next.”
He said, “I didn’t even realize the Jade Venus was gone until Tony asked about it. I didn’t know what it was all about but he asked what happened to it and I looked around and couldn’t find it. I said I didn’t know and he said, ‘It was here the other day when I stopped in,’ and then I pretended to remember. I said I’d loaned it to a friend and I got rid of Tony as soon as I could.”
“So that’s how it was?” Murdock said. “Then I guess Damon picked him up the night he was killed just to throw a little scare into him and make sure Tony didn’t say anything about bringing a letter in from Italy. By that time Damon knew he was under suspicion and he wanted to be sure Tony kept his mouth shut, but I don’t think Damon had the faintest idea Tony had steamed open the envelope and made a copy.… But Tony had a couple of bad breaks.”
He eyed Gould narrowly. “He saw you come out of here and you weren’t carrying anything. Later Tony knew the Jade Venus was gone but he knew you hadn’t taken it with you so he thought nothing about seeing you there, and was not suspicious. The other bad break was that he didn’t know Andrada had been murdered until the next night. He didn’t bother to read the paper until he came to work and so he didn’t know, couldn’t suspect you of a thing.”
He kicked his chair out of the way and took an easy step. “But th
at’s enough, isn’t it? I can’t prove you shot Tony—yet. But it’s different with Andrada and I can save the rest for Lieutenant Bacon.”
Gould’s face was stiff and gray. “Okay,” he said, and there was an instant of warning as his eyes blazed; then he spun to one side, knocking the radio over, clawing at the back. Murdock was still five feet away when the automatic flashed up and covered him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
MURDER WAS A WORD
FOR TEN SECONDS the room was very still. No one moved and as those seconds ticked off the silence stretched taut and rigid. Murdock watched the gun. Behind him he heard someone’s labored breathing and finally Roger Carroll swore breathlessly.
Barry Gould got his back to the wall and braced himself, measuring them, his grin ragged and cruel. “You’re good, Murdock,” he said. “You always were. Even about Tony Lorello, you’re good.”
“He saw you,” Murdock said.
“I’d just come down the stairs. He asked me if Roger was here and I said he wasn’t. I said I’d just been up knocking at the door. That was the only real break I had.”
“Did he phone you?”
“I called him.”
Murdock thought it over. “I guess the guy never knew why you shot him. The account the police gave the papers was that Andrada was found shot to death in his car. Tony never did know Andrada was killed here.”
“I thought it over,” Gould said. “I knew I had to take care of him too. I phoned him late the next afternoon—before you and I went out to dinner. I said I thought I had a line on a job for him. I made a date to meet him after he finished that night.”
“He met you after Damon had finished with him. You strung him along with your phony story and went up to his place with him.” Murdock paused and he was thinking now of the night he had searched Lorello’s rooms and of his flight down the back stairs when he had heard someone coming. “You let him turn on the light and then you stepped close and shot him. It must have been a bad moment when someone knocked at the door before you were ready to go.”
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