"No, I wasn't," Duncan retorted angrily. "And that reminds me of something else I did. I pushed the alarm button which called Manning. That button sounds buzzers in various places and turns on a red light in all four corners of the gambling room. Manning came in here within a matter of seconds."
"That's right," the blue-coated special officer corroborated. "I was over at the far corner of the casino, watching a man who looked like a crook. He was rolling dice on the crap table, and he was pretty lucky. Most of the time I hang around by the entrance to these offices, but when I see something that looks suspicious, I go give it the once-over. As a matter of fact, Grieb had given me the tip-off on this guy, himself. That was about fifteen or twenty minutes before Duncan put on the lights for me. I saw the light come on and started for the office. It couldn't have been fifteen seconds until I got there."
"During that fifteen seconds did you see anyone leave the offices?" the sergeant asked.
"Sure. I saw Perry Mason, and this officer who came aboard with Mr. Duncan-Perkins, I think his name was. They tell me that he put handcuffs on Mr. Mason, but I couldn't see the handcuffs. The way they strolled out, arm in arm, I thought they were just buddies, going into the bar to get a drink."
"You saw us leave?"
"I wasn't over six feet from you. You'd have seen me if you'd turned around. I was moving pretty fast. I thought there might be some sort of an emergency."
"Where was Duncan when you entered the room?"
Duncan started to say something, but the sergeant silenced him with a gesture and said, "Just at present, Mr. Duncan, we're questioning Manning. Where was he, Manning?"
"He was right over at that chair where you're sitting," Manning said. "He'd pulled up the cushion and was looking around." Duncan looked sheepish.
"What were you doing there?" the sergeant asked Duncan.
"That was the chair Mason had been sitting in," Duncan said. "He looked just a little too smug and smooth when I came in. I don't know, I can't put my finger on just what it was, but I didn't like the way he looked. And I thought maybe he'd known he was going to be searched, and had ditched something. You see, he must have heard Perkins and me coming four or five seconds before we came in through the door."
"What did you think he might have concealed?"
Duncan said lamely, "I don't know. It might have been a gun."
"Perhaps," Mason suggested, "Duncan picked up something in the inner office and wanted to plant it in the chair where I'd been sitting, but was interrupted by Manning's prompt arrival."
"That's a lie," Duncan yelled, "and you know it's a lie. You were still in the room when I pressed the buzzer for Manning. If I'd wanted time to stall around, I'd never have pressed that button…"
The sergeant interrupted, "That'll do. Now, just how long was it, Manning, from the time you saw Mason leave until you saw Duncan bending over this chair?"
"I don't think it was over four seconds, at the outside," Manning said. "I came down that corridor on the double-quick."
Mason said, "It took us six or eight seconds to walk down that corridor. That gave Duncan ten or twelve seconds."
The sergeant ignored Mason's comment, but kept his eyes on Manning. "Then what did you do, Manning?" he asked.
"Duncan asked me to help him look around. He told me what had happened. I looked through the door into the other room, but Duncan kept on looking around through chairs in this room, and I came over and helped him."
"Did he say what he wanted you to search for?"
"No, he didn't say."
"Did you enter the inner office at all?"
"Just stood in the doorway," Manning said, "and looked in. I asked Mr. Duncan if it was suicide or murder, and he said it was murder if we couldn't find any gun, and that I was to lock up the place and stand guard…"
"One other thing," Duncan interrupted, "speaking about locking up the place reminds me:-are you going to want the vault opened?"
The sergeant said, "Of course we're going to want the vault opened."
"Well," Duncan said, "when you do that, I've got something to say about the way things are handled."
"Just what do you mean?" the sergeant asked.
"I came out here with a deputy marshal and an order to show cause why a receiver shouldn't be appointed, and I was going to make Grieb take a physical inventory in the presence of the deputy. Now, I'm sorry Sammy's dead; but that doesn't alter the fact that he tried to play me for a sucker. He's short in his accounts, and I know he's short, and that's why he…"
"Why he what?" Mason asked coldly, as Duncan paused.
"Why he didn't want to face me," Duncan finished lamely.
"What makes you think he didn't want to face you?" Mason asked.
Duncan turned pleadingly to the sergeant and said, "For God's sake, make this guy keep his trap shut while I'm trying to explain things."
The sergeant said tonelessly, "Shut up, Mason. What were you trying to say, Duncan?"
"Grieb left heirs somewhere," Duncan said. "I don't know just who they are, but they'll be snooping around and making trouble, claiming half of the business. With Sam alive, I could have had a show-down in court and put a receiver in charge. Now that Sam's dead, I've got to go through a lot of red tape with administrators and stuff, and if there's any shortage, in place of my being able to show that Sam lifted the stuff, they'll claim I got away with it after Sam died. So I want you fellows to make a complete inventory of every single thing in that vault and in the coin safe."
The sergeant frowned. "You mean you think something's missing?"
"I know damn well something's missing."
"Making an inventory is out of our line," the sergeant pointed out. "It'll take more time than I can spare right now."
"Well then, how about sealing the vault up?"
"We'll want to look inside of it."
"The minute that vault's opened," Duncan said obstinately, "there's going to be an inventory made."
The sergeant hesitated a moment, then said, "All right, Duncan, we'll make an inventory. Perhaps, after all, we might find something that'll throw light on the motive for the murder."
"Before you open that vault," Manning ventured, "you'd better talk with these two people. They saw a woman throw a gun overboard."
The sergeant stiffened to attention. "Throw a gun overboard!" he exclaimed.
Manning nodded.
"Well, why the devil didn't you say so?"
"I tried to," Manning said, "but…"
"That'll do," the sergeant interrupted, and said to the young man who was staring with apprehensive eyes, "what's your name?"
The man swallowed twice and said, "Bert Custer."
"Where do you work?"
"In a service station at Seventy-ninth and Main."
"What were you doing out here?"
"I took my girl… I mean Marilyn Smith here, out to the ship."
"You were going to do some gambling?"
Custer lowered his eyes, grinned sheepishly and said, "No."
"Then what did you come out here for?"
"For dinner and the trip. You see, they serve a cheap dinner here, with a little floor show, because they want to get folks to come out to the ship. And the speed boats make a low fare for the same reason. I don't have an awful lot of money to spend and I like to get the most I can for my money. Marilyn and I… Well, we had some things we wanted to talk over, and so we came out here… Well, you know how it is. It doesn't cost much to come out in the speed boats, have dinner and then go out on deck and talk. I was showing her a good time without getting stuck for it. Of course, it was pretty cold out there because of the fog, but it had been hot all day and I thought it would be nice to sit out on deck and…"