«Until you can prove that he has stolen it from some specific person, I imagine the law would say that it was his. A man doesn’t have to prove where he obtained such property.»
«Oh, all right,» said the chief. «I’ll make out the inventory, but I don’t know just what we’ll call some of this stuff.»
«And now,» I said, «I’d like to have a moment to confer with my client.»
After balking and stalling around a bit, the chief opened up the city council chamber for us.
«Now, George,» I said, «I want you to tell me exactly how it was. Tell me everything that happened and tell it from the start.»
George knew I wasn’t fooling, and he knew better than to lie to me. I always caught him in his lies.
«You know, of course,» said George, «that Myrt is gone.»
«I know that,» I said.
«And you know that every time she’s gone, I go out and get drunk and get into some sort of trouble. But this time I promised myself I wouldn’t do any drinking and wouldn’t get into any kind of trouble. Myrt’s put up with a lot from me, and this time I was set to show her I could behave myself. So last night I was sitting in the living room, with my shoes off, in my stocking feet, with the TV turned on, watching a ball game. You know, John, if them Twins could get a shortstop they might stand a chance next year. A shortstop and a little better pitching and some left-handed batters and …»
«Get on with it,» I said.
«I was just sitting there,» said George, «watching this here ball game and drinking beer. I had got a six-pack and I guess I was on the last bottle of it …»
«I thought you said you had promised yourself you would do no drinking.»
«Ah, John, this was only beer. I can drink beer all day and never …»
«All right, go on,» I said.
«Well, I was just sitting there, drinking that last bottle of beer and the game was in the seventh inning and the Yanks had two men on and Mantle coming up …»
«Damn it, not the game!» I yelled at him. «Tell me what happened to you. You’re the one in trouble.»
«That’s about all there was to it,» said George. «It was the seventh inning and Mantle coming up, and the next thing I knew I was walking on the street and a police car pulling up.»
«You mean you don’t know what happened in between? You don’t know where you got the pail of diamonds or the painting or all the other junk?»
George shook his head, «I’m telling you just the way it was. I don’t remember anything. I wouldn’t lie to you. It doesn’t pay to lie to you. You always trip me up.»
I sat there for a while, looking at him, and I knew it was no use to ask him any more. He probably had told me the truth, but perhaps not all of it, and it would take more time than I had right then to sweat it out of him.
«O.K.,» I said, «we’ll let it go at that. You go back and get into that cell and don’t let out a whimper. Just behave yourself. I’ll be down by nine o’clock or so and get you out. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t answer any questions. Volunteer no information. If anyone asks you anything, tell them I’ve told you not to talk.»
«Do I get to keep the diamonds?»
«I don’t know,» I said. «They may not be diamonds.»
«But you asked for an inventory.»
«Sure I did,» I said, «but I don’t know if I can make it stick.»
«One thing, John. I got an awful thirst …»
«No,» I said.
«Three or four bottles of beer. That couldn’t hurt much. A man can’t get drunk on only three or four. I wasn’t drunk last night. I swear to you I wasn’t.»
«Where would I get beer at this time in the morning?»
«You always have a few tucked away in your refrigerator. And that’s only six blocks or so away.»
«Oh, all right,» I said. «I’ll ask the chief about it.»
The chief said yes, he guessed it would be all right, so I left to get the beer.
The moon was setting behind the courthouse cupola, and in the courthouse square the Soldier’s Monument was alternately lighted and darkened by a street lamp swaying in a little breeze. I had a look at the sky, and it seemed entirely clear. There were no clouds in sight and no chance of rain. The sun, in a few hours more, would blaze down again and the corn would dry a little more and the farmers would watch their wells anxiously as the pumps brought up lessening streams of water for their bawling cattle.
A pack of five or six dogs came running across the courthouse lawn.
There was a dog-leashing ordinance, but everyone turned their dogs loose at night and hoped they would come home for breakfast before Virgil Thompson, the city dog catcher, could get wind of them.
I got into the car and drove home and found four bottles of beer in the refrigerator. I took it back to the station, then drove home again.
By this time it was 4:30, and I decided it wasn’t worth my while to go back to bed, so I made some coffee and started to fry some eggs. Elsie heard me and came down, and I fried some eggs for her and we sat and talked.
Her Uncle George had been in a lot of scrapes, none of them serious, and I had always managed to get him out of them one way or another. He wasn’t a vicious character and he was an honest man, liked by most everyone in town. He ran a junkyard out at the edge of town, charging people for dumping trash, most of which he used to fill in a swampy stretch of ground, salvaging some of the more usable junk and selling it cheap to people who might need it. It wasn’t a very elevating kind of business, but he made an honest living at it and in a little town like ours if you made an honest living it counts for quite a lot.
But this scrape was just a little different, and it bothered me. It wasn’t exactly the kind of situation that was covered in a law book. The thing that bothered me the most was where George could have gotten the stuff they found on him.
«Do you think we should phone Aunt Myrt?» asked Elsie.
«Not right now,» I told her. «Having her here wouldn’t help at all. All she’d do would be to scream and wring her hands.»
«What are you going to do first of all?» she asked.
«First of all,» I said, «I’m going to find Judge Benson and get a writ to spring him out of jail. Unless Charley Nivens can find some grounds for holding him and I don’t think he can. Not right away, at least.»
But I never got the writ. I was about to leave my office to go over to the courthouse to hunt up the judge when Dorothy Ingles, my old-maid secretary, told me I had a call from Charley.
I picked up the phone, and he didn’t even wait for me to say hello. He just started shouting.
«All right,» he yelled, «you can start explaining. Tell me how you did it.»
«How I did what?» I asked.
«How George broke out of jail.»
«But he isn’t out of jail. When I left he was locked up and I was just now going over to the courthouse …»
«He’s not locked up now,» yelled Charley. «The cell door still is locked, but he isn’t there. All that’s left is four empty beer bottles, standing in a row.»
«Look, Charley,» I said, «I don’t know a thing about this. You know me well enough …»
«Yeah,» yelled Charley, «I know you well enough. There isn’t any dirty trick …»
He strangled on his words, and it was only justice. Of all the tricky lawyers in the state, Charley is the trickiest.
«If you are thinking,» I said, «of swearing out a fugitive warrant for him, you might give a thought to the lack of grounds for his incarceration.»
«Grounds!» yelled Charley. «There is that pail of diamonds.»
«If they are really diamonds.»
«They are diamonds, that’s for sure. Harry Johnson had a look at them this morning and he says that they are diamonds. There is just one thing wrong. Harry says there are no diamonds in the world as big as those. And very few as perfect.»