“Now tell me about the set-up,” he said, fitting a cigar to his lips with that perfect precision which characterizes a man who is about to enjoy some very welcome information.
“Well, I did just as you told me. When he called for the crime clippings I spoke of a couple of things I knew he wouldn’t be interested in, then I pulled that Demarest affair and he fell for it right away. He’s got an idea that’s very logical, too.
“He says the fat woman had to be a tumbler from a circus, probably a Wild West show, and he pointed out reasons that are ironclad. Then he wants me to insert an ad for a fat woman of about the age of this Mrs. Pensonboy Forster. He says I’ve got to teach her how to faint.”
Sergeant Ackley’s lips snapped the cigar to an abrupt angle.
“Teach her how to faint!” he exclaimed through clenched teeth. “What does he want to do that for?”
The undercover man assumed an air of sophisticated wisdom.
“Tut, tut, sergeant. It’s simple.”
Sergeant Ackley’s big hand ripped the cigar from his mouth. He hurled it to the pavement with such force that the wrapper cracked into fragments.
“Where do you get that tut-tut stuff? And what gave you the idea you can drool over me with that air of superiority Leith puts on? Have you been battin’ around him so long you think you’re one of those masterminds? Because, if you have, I’ll bust you so flat you’ll make wrapping for a picnic sandwich, you bull-necked, fat-headed, cinder-eyed—”
Beaver made haste to mollify the sergeant.
“No, no. I didn’t mean it that way. You got your nerves worked up. What I meant to say was that I’ve put two and two together from workin’ with him so long. Gimme a chance to explain, will you?”
The sergeant took another cigar from his pocket.
“Well, get busy,” he growled. “You tut-tut me again and you’ll go back to pavements.”
“Yes, sergeant, but remember I’ve lived with that drawling stuff so long I can’t help using some of it. It’s unconscious... but let’s look at the case. I gotta be gettin’ back. He’ll have more fool things for me to do.
“You see, he figures that one of the fat women who answers his ad will be either someone who has had circus experience, or, perhaps, the very one who pulled the faint on the Demarest job.”
Sergeant Ackley’s lip curled.
“What a boob you are, Beaver. It ain’t nothing like that at all. In the first place, they made a good haul on the Demarest job. The woman who pulled that stunt is sittin’ pretty right now. She’s out of the picture, and as for finding anybody who’d know her and squeal, that’s foolish. If any of the profesh knew her they’d have tipped us off by this time.
“No. It’s something else, something deeper. I have an idea he’s going to lift the idea and train this fat dame to pull the same stunt for him. It’s just the sort of a stunt he’d have thought up. Wonder is that he didn’t. Maybe he was back of it all the time.”
The spy shook his head. “I’ll keep you posted. But it’s some funny scheme. Remember, he don’t ever rob anybody except thieves. I wish to thunder he’d tip his hand just once! Too bad he smelled out that dictograph we had planted — makes it hard for me to report. But I’ll keep you in touch with the situation. How about planting a woman to answer his ad?”
“No. There ain’t a woman in the department who could answer the description. All of our lures are the vamping type.”
Lester Leith was up early the next morning to receive applications for the position mentioned in his want ad. There were six of them, no more. Some of them were, perhaps, in the three-hundred-pound class, but there were only two who seemed to come anywhere near three hundred and fifty pounds.
Leith made his selection with a judgment that was almost intuitive. He jabbed his forefinger at a woman who stood in a corner.
“Name?”
“Sadie Crane.”
“Come in,” he said.
The woman was about forty. She weighed well into the three hundreds, yet there was about her a certain feminine attraction. Her figure was wadded with fat, yet gave the suggestion of curves. Her eyes were bright. Her flabby lips twisted in a perpetual smile.
“Side show?” she asked, as soon as she had entered the room where Lester Leith indicated a specially constructed armchair.
The police spy, hovering near the doorway, listened intently.
“Not exactly a side show. You’ve been in one?”
“Sure. When I started putting on fat I dieted for a while. After I passed two hundred pounds I decided I’d better go the other way and make some money out of it. So I made up for lost time on the sweets... and here I am. Been in side shows from Keokuk to breakfast and back.”
“Married?”
She shook her head. A tender light came in her eyes. “Widow. I married the Human Skeleton out of Selig’s Super Shows. He was at Denver. Poor Jim, he caught cold the second week we’d been married, and he went quick.”
Lester Leith bowed his head gravely, silent comment upon the match-like man who had been the love of this mountain of flesh.
“You’d wear tights?”
“No.”
Lester Leith gravely regarded the tip of a smoldering cigarette.
“Perhaps your modesty—”
“Modesty, heck!” she interrupted. “It ain’t modesty. I’ve showed my figure from Maine to California, from Mexico to Canada, and I’ve showed more skin area than any other woman in the world. I’ll wear some professional clothes I’ve got, a jacket and shorts. That’s the way I used to sit in the side shows. That’s the way I’m willing to work.”
Lester Leith nodded.
“That is reasonable. The salary will be twenty-five dollars a day. You will have to learn how to faint.”
The fat woman leaned over and looked at Leith earnestly. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“Fainting. You’ll have to learn to drop over to one side, or flat on your back in a faint. You’ll have to learn to take the fall without hurting yourself. We’ll have mattresses and sofa pillows to break the fall at first. Later on we’ll gradually take them away and you can fall on the floor.”
She sighed. “Living around a side show for fifteen years, I’ve naturally seen lots of freaks — but you’re a new type.”
“But you’re willing?”
“Sure, I’m willing. Only I don’t want to take any exercise that’s going to get rid of any fat. This fat is my stock in trade. At my present weight I’m an attraction. If I should drop a hundred pounds or so I wouldn’t be anything but a fat mommer.”
Lester Leith motioned to the valet.
“Will you please explain to the other applicants that their services are not wanted, Scuttle? And you’d better get their names and addresses. That will make them feel better. Tell them the position is temporarily filled.”
The valet nodded, took pencil and paper, and oozed through the door.
Lester Leith glanced significantly at the grinning fat girl who reclined in the specially constructed chair.
“You can keep your mouth shut?”
“Like a clam.”
“Now is a good time to begin.”
“From now on, Mr. Leith, you don’t hear anything out of me except clam-talk.”
Leith reached for a checkbook. “I will advance your salary for the first week.” He wrote and signed a check.
“You’ll be expected to be available at all times. And I’d prefer to have you keep off the streets. So I’ve arranged to rent the adjoining apartment. It’s all furnished, ready for you to move in. Your living expenses are, of course, to be paid by me.”
The fat hand folded along the tinted oblong of paper. The twinkling eyes regarded the figures.
“Two hundred and fifty bucks!”
Lester Leith nodded. “I like round figures.”
She caught the point, stretched out her legs and let her eyes drift over her form.