Bentley said: “Now, buddy, you’ve got me interested.”
Leith said: “We’re working on the same side of the street.”
“You don’t mean you’re a dip?”
“No, but I’m a crook. I’m a confidence man.”
“What’s the game?” Bentley asked.
Leith said: “I have different rackets. Right now, it’s sticking a sucker with that imitation ruby. I show the ruby to the man I’m aiming to trim. I tell him I found it on the street, that I don’t know whether it’s any good or not, that I presume it isn’t good, but that even as an imitation, it should have some value. I ask him what he thinks about it.
“If he’s a real gem expert, I know it from what he says. He tells me to go home and forget it. I thank him, and that’s all there is to it. But if he’s a little dubious about whether it’s genuine, I gradually let him think I’m a sucker. You see, this ruby is the exact duplicate of a valuable ruby that has been in the newspapers.”
Bentley said: “That’s what fooled me about it the first time I saw it.”
“You recognized it?”
“Sure.”
“Well,” Leith said, “lots of other people will, too. They’ll think it’s the genuine priceless ruby. Some of them will want to buy it. Some of them won’t. If the guy offers me anything like five hundred dollars for it, I’m perfectly willing to sell.”
Bentley said: “I’m still listening.”
“The big trouble,” Leith said, “is the risk.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve got too many of them out,” Leith said. “These imitations cost me about fifteen dollars apiece. I’ve been playing the racket for a week.”
“You’re afraid some of the suckers have made a squawk?”
“Yes.”
Bentley said: “I know just how you feel. When a racket gets hot, you know you should leave it, but there’s still coin in it, so you want to hang on.”
Leith said: “That’s where you come in.”
“What do you mean?”
Leith said: “I want you to follow me around from now on whenever I’m going to make a sale.”
“What do I do?”
“Just this,” Leith said. “A cop can’t make a pinch until after I’ve made a sale. In order to do that, they’ll have to plant a ringer on me for a sucker, and have the payments made to me in marked money.”
“No, they won’t,” Bentley said. “You’re all wet there, brother. They can either have the marked money on you, or they can pinch both you and the sucker and hold the sucker as a material witness.”
Leith said: “That last is what I’m afraid of. If that happens, I want you to get the evidence.”
“You mean from the sucker?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, brother. That evidence will be just as hot as a stove lid. I couldn’t—”
Leith took from his pocket a little cloth sack to which was attached a printed tag with a postage stamp on the tag.
“You don’t keep it on you for a minute,” he said. “You just beat it for the first mailbox, drop it, and let Uncle Sam do the dirty work.”
Bentley said: “That’s more like it.”
“Whenever you do that you get a five-hundred-dollar bonus.”
“And that’s all I have to do?”
“That’s all.”
“And my cut is still a hundred bucks a day.”
“That’s right. You just have to follow me around.”
“Lead me to it,” Bentley said. “But you’ll have to tell me when you’re going to make a deal.”
Leith said: “In about an hour, Miss Dormley, the young lady who was with me last night, and I are going out to dinner with another couple. I’ve fixed things up with Miss Dormley so she’ll get the other girl out of the way. That will leave me alone with the man. I figure I can put the deal across with him.”
“I’ll be tagging along.”
Leith said: “Carry this mailing sack where you can put your hand on it in an instant. Don’t ever be caught without it.”
“Listen, buddy,” Bentley said, “don’t think I was born yesterday. If you think I want to be caught with goods that will hook me up as your confederate, you’re cockeyed. And don’t pull your stuff in a place where there isn’t a mailbox on every corner, because if you do, it’s just your hard luck.”
Sergeant Arthur Ackley stared reproachfully at Beaver, the undercover operative. “Right under your nose, Beaver,” he said, “and you muffed it.”
The spy’s face colored. “What do you mean, I muffed it? I’m the one that told you he was going after that ruby.”
Sergeant Ackley said: “You argued a lot, Beaver, and became personally offensive, but you didn’t give me anything constructive.”
“What do you mean, constructive?”
“You didn’t even smell a rat when he brought that green kid in to act as a detective,” Ackley said.
Beaver sighed. “Oh, what’s the use. Just don’t forget that we have a bet. If all those various things I told you about fit into his plan to get the ruby, I win your watch.”
“Not at all, Beaver,” said Ackley. “You have overlooked one little fact. It was to have been done so cleverly that I couldn’t pin anything on him. You overlooked that little thing, Beaver, and that’s going to cost you fifty bucks — because I’ve already got it pinned on him.”
Beaver said: “I suppose you know every step in his campaign.”
Sergeant Ackley gloated. “You bet I do.”
The spy scraped back his chair and got to his feet.
Sergeant Ackley said: “Don’t go to bed until after midnight, Beaver. I’ll be calling you some time before then to come down to headquarters. Leith will be booked and in a cell. Then you can have the pleasure of telling him that you helped put him there — and you can pay over the fifty bucks to me.”
Beaver lunged toward the door. “You’ve thought you had him before,” he flung back, on the threshold.
Sergeant Ackley laughed. “But this time, Beaver, I have got him. I threw a scare into that green kid Vare, and he told me everything.”
The four people left the taxicab and walked across the sidewalk to the entrance of the apartment house. Dixie Dormley, attired in soft white, was vibrantly beautiful. The other young woman, although expensively gowned, seemed drab in comparison.
Lester Leith, well-tailored, faultlessly groomed, wore his evening clothes with an air of distinction. Bob Lamont was quick and nervous. He seemed ill at ease.
The four people chatted as they went up in the elevator, and Bob Lamont opened the door of his apartment with a flourish.
It was an apartment which was well and tastefully furnished. As secretary to George Navin, Lamont had drawn a very good salary.
When the two young women were seated, Lamont went to the kitchenette to get the makings of drinks.
Lester Leith gave a significant glance at Dixie Dormley.
She caught the glance, turned at once to the other young woman, and exclaimed, “Oh, my heavens, I left my purse in that taxicab! Or else it may have fallen out on the sidewalk; I don’t know which. It seems to me that I heard something drop to the running board as I got out.”
The young woman said: “Never mind, Dixie, you can telephone the taxicab company, and they’ll have it in the Lost and Found Department.”
“Yes,” wailed Dixie, “but suppose it dropped to the running board. Then it would have spilled off at the corner.”
Lester Leith reached for his hat.
“I’ll run down and see.”
Dixie Dormley got to her feet quickly and started to the door.
“No, please,” she said. “You wait here. I can’t explain, but I’d much rather go by myself, unless Vivian wants to come with me.”
She flashed the other young woman a smile of invitation, and Vivian promptly arose.