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"You taking charge here?" the bartender asked.

"Yes, of course."

"If you want a suggestion," the bartender said, "why not just pull up the landing-stage for emergency repairs? If we try to stop people coming and going, we've got to make explanations, and we'll have a panic here."

"That's a good idea, Jimmy," Duncan agreed. "I'm leaving it to you."

"Okay," the bartender said as he turned and strode from the room.

Perkins finished counting the money in Mason's wallet and said to the lawyer, "This is the way I've made the inventory. You'd better look it over."

"All right, I will," Mason said. "How about any other entrance to that room, Duncan?"

"There isn't any."

"Are you certain?"

"Of course I'm certain. This ship was completely refinished inside, in accordance with our specifications. It'd been a fishing barge, and the owner turned it into a gambling ship for us. We furnished the wheels and the layout, but he did the rest of it. We designed that office on purpose so people couldn't come busting in from two or three different doors. There's only one way into that private office, and that's through the reception room, and there's only one way into that reception room and that's through the right-angled corridor. We didn't know but what we might have trouble with the boys from some of the other ships; and when we laid the thing out we did it so muscle men couldn't come busting in, pull any rough stuff and get out. There's a bell button on the underside of the desk which calls the officer on duty, and then there's an emergency alarm which is a peach. If a suspicious-looking guy ever came into the office, Sam could press his foot on a little square plate beneath the desk. As soon as he pressed that, it made a contact, and then as long as his foot kept pressing it, nothing happened. But, if he took his foot away, without first throwing a switch, an emergency-alarm signal rang bells all over the ship and even down on the landing-stage. We've never had to use those bells, but if any guys had ever tried to muscle in and take us for a ride, we could have sewed them up. Once those bells rang, the men up in the watch room wouldn't let anyone out of Grieb's office. No one could get off the ship. And the crew had been drilled to grab guns and stand by."

"Then," Mason said, "whoever killed Grieb was someone who entered the office on legitimate business and shot Grieb before Grieb had any idea what was going to happen."

Duncan nodded and said, "You came here on legitimate business, I suppose."

"What do you mean by that crack?" Mason asked.

Duncan said, "I'm not making any cracks. I'm just telling you that the bird who bumped Sam off was someone he'd expected to see on business, someone who was able to walk into the office and pull a rod before Sammy had any idea what was going to happen.

"Sammy opened the door and let him in. Then Sammy went back to his desk, sat down and started talking. While he was in the middle of saying something, this guy, who was probably sitting on the other side of the desk, slipped a gun out of his pocket where Sammy couldn't see it, and all of a sudden pulled up the rod and let Sammy have it right through the head at short range. Then this guy walked out, pulled the door shut behind him and perhaps went on deck to toss the gun overboard, or he might have sat down in the other office for a while, reading magazines."

"Or," Mason said dryly, "might have taken a speed boat and gone ashore, for all you know."

"Well, whatever he did, it isn't my fault. I couldn't have sewed the ship up. Sammy was dead before I came aboard. We don't even know when he was killed. There might have been a dozen boats leave before I discovered it, and then again…"

Duncan glanced meaningly at Perry Mason.

"Then again, what?" Mason asked.

Duncan grinned, and his gold teeth once more flashed into evidence. "Nope," he said, "I'm not making any guesses. That's up to the officers."

Mason said, "There's no need for me to stick around. You've got an inventory of everything that was on me, Perkins. I'm going up on deck and see if anyone's particularly worried about not being able to leave."

Duncan nodded, started for the door, then stopped, frowned thoughtfully and said, "You're pretty smart, ain't you?"

"What do you mean?" Mason asked.

"I mean that you were damned anxious to be searched."

"Of course I was."

"I think I'll be searched," Duncan said. "After all, I was in that room for a minute or two before Manning showed up, and it might be a good idea to be able to prove I didn't take anything away with me."

Mason's laugh was sarcastic. "You might just as well spare yourself the trouble, Duncan. You've had an opportunity to take anything you wanted out of that room, toss it overboard or hide it in any one of a hundred different places. Being searched now isn't going to help you any."

Duncan said, "I don't like the way you say that."

Mason grinned. "I'm so sorry. You could have left the room at the same time we did, Duncan, and then there wouldn't have been any necessity for searching you."

"Yes," Duncan sneered, "and left the place wide open for an accomplice of yours to have come back and…"

"Accomplice of mine?" Mason asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I didn't mean it that way," Duncan admitted. "I meant a client of yours, or an accomplice of the murderer."

Mason yawned. "Personally, I don't like the air in here. It's stuffy. I think I'll mingle around."

"You're sure you made a list of everything he had on him?" Duncan asked Perkins.

Perkins nodded.

"The lining of his coat?"

"You bet," Perkins said. "I used to be a jailer. I know something about where a man hides things. I looked in his shoes, in the lining of his coat."

"Did you look under the collar of his coat?"

Perkins laughed and said, "Don't be silly. Of course I looked under the collar of his coat and in the cuffs of his pants. I went over every inch of cloth with my fingers."

"How much money did he have in that wallet?"

"Twenty-five hundred dollars in hundreds and fifties, and three hundred and twenty dollars in twenties, and then he had four fives, three ones and some silver, six quarters, ten dimes, four nickels and six pennies."

Mason grinned and said, "When you make an inventory, you make a good one, don't you, Perkins?"

"I wasn't a jailer for nothing," Perkins admitted. "Lots of times guys would swear they had a lot more money than they did."

Duncan stared at Mason with narrowed eyes. There was no trace of a smile either on his lips or in his eyes.

"Twenty-five hundred in fifties and hundreds, eh?" he asked.

Perkins said, "That's right."

"Were you," Mason asked, "thinking of something, Duncan?"

"Yes," Duncan said, "I was just thinking that seventy-five hundred dollars from ten thousand would leave twenty-five hundred."

Perkins looked puzzled. Mason's grin was affable. "Quite right, Duncan," he said, "and ten thousand from twelve thousand five hundred would leave twenty-five hundred; and twenty-five thousand from twenty-seven thousand five hundred would still leave twenty-five hundred."

Duncan's face darkened. He said to Perkins, "Could he have folded or wadded up any papers and concealed them on him somewhere?"

Perkins said, with some show of impatience, "Not a chance. I know what to look for, and I know where to look. I've been searching guys for years. Some of 'em used to try putting a flexible saw around the inside of their collars or down the stiffening in the front of their coats. But they didn't get away with it. I'm telling you I searched this guy. He asked for it and he got it."

Duncan jerked the door open and pounded out into the outer corridor. Mason grinned at Perkins. "Did you inventory the chewing gum, Perkins?"