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“Slim pickings so far. It’s a good heist, Sam. But how’d you get on it so soon? Looking to collect the reward they’ll be offering?”

“Why not? You boys can’t touch it. Actually, I was down there on something else and just ran across it.”

“And told them how to conduct their investigation. Not that you weren’t right. If they weren’t looking to arrest you they’d be looking to hire you. I can give you some cover by taking you on at the usual pay, backdate the start of employment, and say you were there on a case.”

“Six bucks a day, twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year?” Spade chuckled and shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ve had my fill of that. They know who I am?”

“No, but Sergeant Dundy thinks Daniel Gough might have been involved in the heist and was making a ‘daring foray’ to see what the authorities had discovered. He says he thinks he recognizes Gough’s description. Now run it down for me, Samuel.”

Spade did, finishing with, “I like the quartermaster, Kest, for the inside man, with a couple of crewmen from the graveyard shift at sea. But whoever planned it is the key.”

“You’re giving away a lot of weight here, Sam.” Geaque had a twinkle in his eye. “We’re going to beat you to the gold and the glory if you’re not careful.”

“You’ll be out in front of the coppers and Burns, Phil. I figure I can stay out in front of you without much trouble.” Spade mashed out his cigarette. “Somebody’ll spot me if I hang around down there, so I need tin mittens to get me my information. Way I see it, now you owe me so you’ll feel guilty if you don’t keep me up-to-date on the official investigation.”

Effie Perine looked up from the messy stack of newspapers she was rifling when Spade came through the door. She grabbed up her shorthand pad from the desk blotter.

“A police sergeant named Dundy was by. He told me I’d better let him know whenever you show up or it’ll go hard on me.”

Spade smiled without showing any teeth. “That’s our Dundy, all right.”

“He had a patrolman named Polhaus with him.”

“Tom Polhaus?” Spade’s eyes had brightened. “That’s a break. If Dundy gets too snotty go to Tom. Anything from Sid on how our client is behaving? Sid’s office is locked up.”

“Nothing. No other calls.”

“Just make sure he pays you for any work he dumps on you.”

“Of course I’ll get paid!” She sounded shocked. “Sid is your friend and the man who brought you the job you’re—”

“And he’s a lawyer.” He lit a cigarette. “The papers have anything we don’t know, snip?”

Effie Perine began sorting through the stack of news papers with slim, efficient fingers, pausing at this or that article.

“The Chronicle says, ‘When the theft was discovered, guards were immediately placed on the pier and aboard the liner. Search of the large vessel was immediately begun by a special detail of customs officials, accompanied by police and detectives from the Continental and Burns agencies. All members of the crew were searched before they were allowed ashore.’ ”

“They had to go through the motions even though it was way too late to do any good.”

She blurted, “They’re doing all the things you told them to do, Sam!”

He didn’t react, so she returned to her papers. “The Call says, ‘After an all-day search by police and private detectives, the disappearing gold remains an inscrutable mystery. An inside job involving several members of the San Anselmo’s crew is suspected...’ ”

Spade gave a derisive snort as she selected another paper.

“The Examiner says, ‘An international ring of specie robbers, including either members of the crew or persons who frequently travel on the liners across the Pacific, is thought responsible for the crime.’ ”

“Next they’ll be saying it was the Commies looking to finance another revolution.”

“The News says, ‘The baggage still on the pier and the mail that had been stowed adjacent to the strong room were searched without result.’ Gardner Matheson, Oceanic’s general manager, is quoted as saying, ‘The gold unquestionably was removed in Pago Pago or Honolulu before the San Anselmo sailed on to San Francisco. All passengers have been queried—’ ”

“All passengers?”

“ ‘Except those of unquestionable reputation.’ ” She frowned, scanning further. “There’s something... Here it is. The Daily Herald says, ‘Two passengers were not immediately contacted. One disembarked and disappeared with only a single suitcase. The other had made several voyages on the San Anselmo and had been seen in close communication with several members of the crew. He left the vessel with two trunks each weighing one hundred eighty pounds and checked into the Palace Hotel but never occupied his room. The police are still seeking him.’ ”

She looked up at Spade, eyes shining, voice excited. “What sort of luggage weighs three hundred and sixty pounds, Sam? He hid most of the gold in his trunks in the baggage room and was among the first passengers off so he could get away before the theft was discovered.”

“How did he get into the strong room? How did he get the gold into the trunks when he only had two hours in the baggage room, and that with guards watching his every move?”

“You said yourself that crewmen were involved.”

“Yeah. Look, I don’t know if the police are looking for him, but try to find out everything you can about the man with the single suitcase. If he came aboard at Honolulu he’s our meat. Also, get everything you can on the quartermaster, Kest.”

Effie Perine was making shorthand notes on her pad.

“You’re going to have to keep the office running and keep Dundy off my back,” he told her. “Tell Sid I’m working full-time on our stowaway. Tell everybody else you don’t know where I am.”

“Oh, Sam, all that gold!”

“We’ll see. I have an idea of how they might have gotten at least some of the gold off, and I need to check places aboard where they might have hidden the rest of it.”

“The police and the detectives—”

“Are thinking big and complicated. I’m thinking small and simple.” He touched a finger to the tip of her nose. “Simple is always best, sweetheart.”

7

The Plot Thickens

Sam Spade, in his longshoreman’s getup, was in the morning Blue Book shape-up for a job unloading the rest of the San Anselmo’s cargo. As expected, he was passed over.

“How d’ya get a job in this burg?” he complained.

The burly stevedore next to him in the shape-up, who said his name was Tingly, looked Spade over carefully. He had a two-day growth of beard, hard eyes, and a weary air.

“You don’t, less’n you offer a kickback on your wages.”

“Hell with that stuff. That’s why I left Seattle.”

They strolled, stopped to roll cigarettes. Tingly stood on one foot with the other leg bent, his shoe flat against the wall of Pier 35. He gestured with his cigarette and laughed bitterly.

“Looks like the flatties got somethin’ on what they call their minds.”

Dundy and Polhaus and two other uniformed policemen were striding purposefully up the ramp to the San Anselmo, where Quartermaster Kest awaited them at the head of the gangway.

“Maybe they’re gonna arrest somebody,” said Spade, drifting that way. Tingly drifted with him.