“Something’s missing here,” said the proprietor. “Go back to the trash can and the ski mask.”
Theodore shuffled to the next report.
“The police arrived on the scene and took charge. They searched the trash can, but the only item of interest in there was the discarded ski mask and the aerosol can.”
“What about the maintenance man and the mop bucket?”
“The police searched the bucket, the mop, and the maintenance man who hadn’t yet left the scene of the collision. It was noted in the report that the man is a longtime employee with no criminal record.”
“How about the clown?”
“He was still lying on the floor muttering to himself when the cops showed up. They searched him anyway and checked his record. Nothing. At the request of Nouveau Software, the police then checked out the entire area and all nearby vendors on the thief’s route of flight. Once again, nothing. It was early enough in the morning that the convention attendees hadn’t been let onto the arena floor yet, so the police kept those people outside the building during the search and investigation. Only when all possibilities had been checked out was anyone allowed to enter or depart.”
Theodore waited patiently while the proprietor gazed up at... Well, Theodore had no idea what Mr. Johnston was looking at on the ceiling. This was all beyond his comprehension.
Finally, the proprietor spoke. “Turns out we have a problem.”
“In what way?” asked Theodore.
“Our captured thief was reported to be a Serbian male with no recourse to the English language. Plus, there is no record of his entry into the United States,” replied the proprietor.
The corner of Theodore’s lips turned up in a smile at the thought of Moklal possibly failing at his first bail bond attempt. Even if the problem was merely one of a language barrier, the Hindu had probably not been able to arrange their usual bond requirements, and therefore in comparison, the situation had to make him, Theodore, look somewhat better in the eyes of Mr. Johnston.
“So if the Serbian didn’t speak English, then Moklal couldn’t talk to him and find out where he put the memory card?”
“Actually,” said the proprietor, “the thief didn’t get a chance to speak with anyone. When the jail deputy escorted Moklal to the interview room and unlocked the door, it appears that the Serbian was already dead. He’d been strangled with a yellow silk scarf.”
“But that’s how our pet Thuggee kills people,” exclaimed Theodore.
The proprietor nodded his agreement.
“Exactly. And someone wanted it to look like Moklal’s work. Fortunately for the Hindu, his law enforcement escort at the time gives him an alibi for this murder. However, it was Moklal’s misfortune that the deputy jailer took his fingerprints anyway. As a result, the Hindu’s relationship to an old-time Thuggee family in the north of India has come to light. I’m told our executive secretary will now be deported to his native country, especially since he too illegally entered the U.S.A. without proper documents.”
Theodore was almost ecstatic.
“So that’s the last we’ll see of Mr. Moklal Feringheea.”
“I think not, Theodore. As porous as our national borders have become, you and I will arrive at work one day in the next few months only to find the Hindu sitting once more behind his desk in the outer office as if nothing had ever happened. And we still won’t know his true purpose for working at this firm. Quite sobering, if you think about it.”
Theodore definitely felt sober this afternoon. He’d often lain awake nights wondering if the proprietor’s twin brother had previously hired the Hindu with the intent of assassinating the proprietor at some future specified time. Only the order had obviously not been given before the twin brother went missing. Or as the proprietor liked to say, his twin had taken an extended vacation to parts unknown. But if the proprietor’s name was on a hit list, then Theodore figured his own name wasn’t far behind.
“Theodore, your thoughts are drifting again, and we have work to do.”
“Sorry, sir. What do we have to do?”
“Because of the nefarious planning involved by the memory card thieves, and the use of a non — English speaking Serbian for the actual robbery, I suspect that our recent nemesis is once again at play in our backyard.”
“You mean Herr Morden is here in the city?”
“This operation has all the markings of his style. The only question in my mind is, did the thief pass on the location of the memory card before his demise, or is Herr Morden’s organization still searching for it the same as we are? In either case, it would appear that Herr Morden has endeavored to entwine his venture into American criminal enterprise with our business of making money in our own special way. A true conflict of interests. I also fear he has not forgiven our interference in his earlier assassination attempt on the UN Secretary General, nor our subsequent escape from the trap he set for us at your cousin’s bonded wine warehouse in the industrial park by the bay. It would seem that our futures are tied to each other until one of us is destroyed.”
“What’s our next move then, boss?”
“My job is to do the thinking for the firm, Theodore. But your next move is to get me the blueprints for the heating and air-conditioning system that was installed in the convention center.”
“Where do I find those?”
“The Building Permits Office in City Hall should have copies. Go there.”
Theodore checked his wristwatch. “But sir, I think they’re already closed at this time of day.”
The proprietor smiled as he raised his open palms. “Then you will just have to find a way in.”
Theodore turned to depart the executive office. His mind raced ahead to alarm systems and a lock-picking gun. He also hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone else at the Building Permits Office. Otherwise, he might have need of a different type of gun, one that shot real bullets instead of merely jiggling lock tumblers until they fell into place.
Much later that evening, Theodore dragged himself back into the proprietor’s executive office. With a cautious step onto the expensive Oriental carpet in front of the mahogany desk, he kept his bulbous eyes downcast. His gray slacks and plaid jacket had several small tears in the fabric along with a couple of rather large rips on the outside, which exposed the cheap lining of his jacket.
The proprietor appeared not to notice the dishevelment of his minion.
“Theodore, I’ve been waiting patiently for your return.”
At this point, Theodore was quick to notice the long-barreled pistol that the proprietor’s right hand was resting on. Since the gun had no round cylinder to contain any bullets, Theodore assumed the weapon to be an automatic rather than a revolver, but not one of the small, easily concealed ones he was familiar with in his job description. Next, he wondered if the weapon had anything to do with his annual evaluation, which had been interrupted earlier this morning.
“You have the heating and air-conditioning blueprints?” inquired the proprietor.
“Not exactly, sir.”
Cletis Johnston leaned back in his leather executive chair as if this were going to be a long session. The automatic pistol trailed along loosely in his right hand.
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I encountered a guard dog as I left the Building Permits Office.”
“And?”
“And I dropped the blueprints and ran for my life. You should’ve seen the teeth on that dog. After I closed a glass door between us, and he couldn’t bite me any more... well, his fangs shredded the blueprints I had to leave behind. There ought to be a law against dogs like that.”