I decided that it was my turn now, so l clapped on my hat and hustled off to see Dr. Turner about taking over my practice and found him, as I had expected, agreeable to the proposition. We soon came to an arrangement that would allow me at least two weeks of freedom.
With that settled, I returned to the house to plan my campaign. The first thing I needed was an assistant. I realized how poorly equipped I was to cope with the ingenious scoundrels who sought the black capsule. Who could help me? There was Higgins, the lawyer. Too cold and businesslike. He would probably want to know how much his fee would be. Young Brillers at the bank might do, but he was tied down with a wife and children.
I cast my mind back to college days. Who was the wildest, most adventurous youngster in the school? I had it. Heywood, the president of my class. A harum-scarum chap he was, and I felt sure that my mystery would appeal to him. I telephoned to the dub and learned that he had last been heard from as a newspaper reporter for the Globe.
“Sort of dropped out around here,” said my informant. “Guess his pocketbook wouldn’t stand it, you know.”
I called the paper and left word with the city editor to have Heywood drop in at my house.
“Something very important,” said I by way of whetting that gentleman’s curiosity.
Chapter V
My Choice Was Wise
It was late in the afternoon when Heywood arrived. He came striding into the library and greeted me much as though we had been seeing each other quite regularly. A tall, rawboned man, slightly stooped, and with a prominent nose toward which all his features seemed to run, Heywood had the nervous, eager look of a fellow who was searching for something.
He helped himself to a cigar, took a chair, and gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment. Then he shot out an abrupt question:
“Well, doc, old sawbones, what’s biting you?”
“Bored with life,” said I. “Wearied to death by gabby old women, sad-eyed old men, silly young women, and bawling infants. Sick of the grind.”
Heywood laughed dryly.
“That, I fear, is a universal complaint. Am I the antidote in this case?”
“You are.”
“Hum. Well, it won’t take me long to prescribe my remedy. Banish that worried expression. Grab your hat. We’ll play pop goes the weasel and give this sad burg the once over. Let’s go.”
“I believe,” said I, “that I have something better.”
“Impossible,” he snorted. “A man of your limited experience couldn’t do it. Why, I know every dive in town. I even know a bootlegger who sells stuff guaranteed to improve the eyesight. Beat that if you can.”
“I can,” said I.
“Say.” Heywood sat up in his chair. “Have you really got something serious on your mind? I thought you had got to browsing on our days at school and were looking for a skipping partner. Are you in trouble?”
“Not yet, but I hope to be, before long. Heywood, have you ever tried to solve a crime?”
He gave me a hard look. An abashed grin was upon his face.
“How did you guess that I had turned sleuth? I get all that kind of stuff down at the Globe — murders, suicides, kidnapings, and the like. I’ve untangled some of them, too. It’s quite interesting to see what a little concentration will do. Doc, you and some of the other fellows may be headed toward success, but I am really seeing and enjoying life, although I live like a fireman and work like a dog.”
“Fine,” said I. “Great. You’ll be the very man to help me out.”
“Not so fast,” objected my friend. “What the hell’s this all about? Are you going to buy a pair of rubber heels and turn detective or have you killed somebody?”
“Your first theory is right, Heywood. I’m turning detective for a couple of weeks and you are going to help me solve a fascinating mystery and find a girl in a green evening dress.”
“Well, well,” said Heywood. “Sounds good. Tell me more. What is this dark mystery, and why do we seek a girl in a green evening dress?”
“I’ll begin at the beginning,” said I, and while the sun fell behind a bank of dark clouds and the shadows lengthened across the street, I repeated my experiences with Copeland, his black capsule, the girl who had invaded by home, and the strange pair of visitors who had tricked me so easily that morning.
“So,” I concluded, “I am convinced that this letter means a great deal to somebody, and I am going to find out who it is. I need a vacation anyway. What do you think of it?”
“I think,” said Heywood frankly, “that you are as crazy as a cuckoo clock on daylight saving time. You’re as buggy as they make ’em. This plot is probably some low scheme that you wouldn’t want to be hooked up with in a hundred years. It looks to me like you’ve got a fine chance to get churned up into a merry mess.
“However, I’m with you, hook, line, and sinker.”
He blew smoke rings into the air and then leaned over and peered at me.
“Say, doc, you’re not in love?”
“In love?”
“With the dame in the green dress.”
I laughed and tried to make it convincing.
“Well, hardly. I confess that she attracted me, but I wouldn’t say it was love. She might be a lady safe-blower for all I know.”
“Exactly.” Heywood regarded the end of his cigar. “I was rather alarmed at your enthusiastic description of the lady. You say this girl had no coat?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Hum. She couldn’t get very far prancing the streets in an evening dress without being noticed. That’s as good a place to start as any.”
“Where?”
“Taxicab drivers. She probably walked a block and hopped into a cab. Worth trying. I haven’t got anything to do this evening. Suppose I prowl around and see what I can pick up.”
“Get back by seven and we’ll have dinner and hold a coroner’s inquest,” said I.
“Righto.”
Heywood seized his hat, shook hands hastily and hurried away. I knew by the gleam of interest in his gray eyes that my choice of a helper had been a wise one.
Chapter VI
Heywood Proves a Sherlock
There was a look of triumph about him when he returned.
“We are getting along amazingly well, Sherlock,” he said as he took a seat opposite me at the dining table. “I’ve managed to get track of your husky young man and have proved, to my own satisfaction, that it was he who sent the girl to your house.”
“Good,” I approved. “Tell me about it.”
“It was as I surmised. Your girl friend left here, took a taxicab and went straight to headquarters to report her failure. I had no difficulty in finding the chauffeur, and for a five-spot he drove me to the place. It is the home of Charles Blake, diamond importer, a rather imposing residence on the heights.
“I made a few discreet inquiries about Blake. A bad egg. Hardboiled as a dress shirt front. Been mixed up in some shady deals, but never caught with the goods. He has been suspected for a number of years with having some connection with a crowd of jewel smugglers. So, you see, we are going to be in rather fancy company.”
“And the girl?”
It was the question in which I was most interested, but Heywood waved it away.
“Just an agent of Blake’s probably. A mere incident in our story. Understand, I haven’t seen this fellow Blake. Wouldn’t know him from Adam, but it strikes me that he was probably the man who tangled up your shirts to-day.