Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 26, No. 4. Whole No. 143, October 1955

Two Can Play by Steve April

House detective Fenny was fat, slow on his feet, and looked dumb; but no Black Mask dick was ever faster on the uptake.

The jeweler and the house dick, being exact opposites, found each other’s company amusing. Mr. Alberts, the jeweler, was soft-spoken, slender, and impeccably groomed. Everything about him was expensive and polished — like his swank jewelry shop in the hotel lobby.

Mr. Fenny, the house dick, looked like a slob. His short fat body shuffled along on its big feet like a toy doll; his suit was so wrinkled he might have slept in it; and there was always about him the faint aroma of stale, cheap cigars. And because Fenny’s eyes were so deeply sunk in his potato face, it was difficult to realize that they were thoughtful and alert. All he needed was a derby to look like a caricature of a house detective.

Fenny and Alberts played a little game. The dick would lumber into the shop, ask, “That three-hundred-buck watch in the window, what would it cost me, Mr. Alberts?” His voice was too high — strictly for laughs.

“Oh, for you it would be wholesale — two hundred and ten dollars.”

A sly look would creep across Fenny’s fat face. “Wholesale? You guys must get a five hundred per cent markup. I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”

“The watch cost me exactly two hundred and ten dollars, Mr. Fenny. And that doesn’t include the rent and electricity, so I can display it before your eyes,” Alberts would say with gentle sarcasm.

“Two hundred and ten dollars?” Fenny would repeat, as though Alberts were joking. “I’ll think it over.” And he would shuffle out. A few days later they would go through the same routine — over a lighter or cuff links. Fenny never bought anything, but it was a pleasant way of passing time.

Now, his great body overflowing one of the hotel manager’s leather chairs, Fenny pushed his hat back on his bald head and said, “I’d go slow on arresting the guy. Looks too perfect to me. I sure liked that watch too; sorry you sold it.”

Alberts said, “That’s the point: Did I sell it, or have I been robbed of three hundred dollars?”

“Only two hundred and ten. That’s what it cost you — you claim,” Fenny said.

The manager, who appreciated Fenny’s knack for keeping the hotel’s name out of the wrong kind of headlines, said, “Now, Fenny, we don’t want Mr. Alberts to lose anything. It does look suspicious, reselling the watch to a bell hop for only twenty dollars and—”

Fenny sighed. “Boss, that’s it, the deal’s too suspicious — the take is only a brace of ten spots. And why was this Rogers staying in our best room for the past eleven days on a day-to-day basis? Why wasn’t he paying by the week? Okay, I’ll admit he could have been waiting for a business deal to break any day. But it also gave him a chance to pay, and promptly, every day, including a couple times by check. Then this afternoon he suddenly decides to buy the watch — and offers a check. Mr. Alberts calls the desk clerk, learns Rogers pays his bills promptly, tips well, and so he decides to take the check. Remember the time?”

“Exactly four fifteen. I recall setting the watch.”

Fenny nodded. “That’s what I mean — too many coincidences. Four fifteen on a Friday, no chance to call the bank till Monday, proving—”

“—That perhaps Rogers is pulling a fast one?” Alberts cut in.

“Or that we’re dealing with a smart con operator,” Fenny said. “Look at the case he’s building against himself: half hour ago he gets loaded at the bar and sells the watch to the bellhop for twenty bucks, knowing the bellhop would show it off to the desk clerk, who’d call Alberts. And here we are. Even the drunk act is too good. If you arrest him and the check’s good, he can sue you for—”

“Nevertheless, at this moment Rogers is checking out of the hotel!” Alberts said. “You don’t expect me just to stand around, do you?”

“You’re insured. Wait till—”

“Till the bird has flown the coop?” Alberts asked grimly. “No, much as I dislike the fuss, I’m going directly to the police.”

“Now, Mr. Alberts,” the hotel manager said, “Mr. Fenny has a—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll handle it,” Fenny said, getting to his feet with a great effort. “But I’m still against it. Come along, both of you.”

Mr. Rogers was a large man whose graying hair and handsome face gave him an air of distinction. But on his face at the moment was the loose, silly grin of a, drunk. He poured a drink from the bottle on his dresser and watched a bellboy pack his bag. When the three men entered, Rogers blinked at them and asked, “Are we holding a conference here, gentlemen?”

“I understand you sold my watch for twenty dollars,” Alberts began. “I—”

Trying to focus his eyes, Rogers said, “I did? Funny, thought it was my watch, sell it for what I please. Nobody’s business but—”

Fenny pushed the jeweler aside and said, in a mild squeak, “Merely wanted to talk to you, Mr. Rogers.”

Rogers waved his arm. “Busy, busy. Some other time,” he said thickly.

His hand barely touched Fenny’s face; but, in trying to duck, the rolypoly detective lost his balance and fell heavily to the floor. Glancing up at the manager and Alberts, both of whom were annoyed at Fenny’s clumsiness, the dick said, “Help me up.” Then he growled at Rogers, “Watch them hands, mister.”

“Sorry,” Rogers said. He tried to bow and reached out to steady himself.

Fenny took Rogers’s arm. “Better come with me, chum.”

As he was being steered toward the door, Rogers asked, “Where are we going? Can I take my pal along?” He motioned toward the bottle.

Fenny told him, “It’s your pal, take all of it.”

“Sir, you’re a gentleman,” Rogers mumbled and tilted the bottle.

They had reached the rear elevators when Rogers passed out. Alberts said, “Shouldn’t have let him drink so much. Look at him, stupid drunk.”

“Come on,” Fenny said, “we’ll have to carry him to the police station.”

On Saturday morning Fenny called the desk sergeant and asked, “Jack, how’s that Rogers joker taking jail?”

“Sleeps a lot — like a guy who’s been here before.”

“Beefing much?”

“Naw,” the sergeant said. “Usual pitch — the food stinks, going to hire the best lawyer in town Monday — you know the routine.”

“Yeah,” Fenny said. “Thanks.” He hung up and stuck a horrible-smelling cigar butt in his mouth.

At 9 o’clock on Monday morning Fenny stood outside the jewelry shop, watching Alberts make a telephone call. Two minutes later the jeweler put down the telephone, and his face turned a greenish white. Fenny opened the door as Alberts groaned, “Lord, the check is good! Have to rush down to the jail; might be time to smooth this out before—”

Alberts slapped his hat on, dodged around Fenny, sprinted through the lobby and out into the first cab waiting at the curb. Trotting behind him and blowing like a whale, Fenny managed to jump into the same cab.

Rogers was talking to a lawyer in his cell when Alberts rushed in, saying “Mr. Rogers, I’ve come to apologize for a terrible mistake.”

“Do your talking in court, sir,” the lawyer said. “My client has suffered the indignity of false arrest, plus the discomfort of two days in jail. We shall sue for damages and—”

“Jail’s as good a place as any to sleep off a drunk,” Fenny said, disregarding Alberts, who was tugging at his sleeve. “And your client is strictly a con man.”

“We don’t have to listen to your insulting language. When we sue for false arrest, you will be—”

“What false arrest?” Fenny asked softly. “Rogers must have been so sure of his act he never asked to see the blotter when he came to this morning. Evidently you haven’t either — yet. When you do, you’ll see the charge was made by me: assault. Rogers knocked me down when he was drunk. And I’ve got witnesses to prove it.”

The lawyer turned to Alberts. “Didn’t you sign an affidavit that my client had defrauded you?”

“I thought—” Alberts began. “I was confused; I left things up to Fenny. He knows all about police stations.”

Rogers began to curse, and Fenny, who was herding Alberts out, turned and asked, “That a way to talk chum? Especially when I’m dropping the charge? You’re free to scram. Just don’t ever try anything at my hotel again.”

In the cab, on the way back to the hotel, Alberts stared at the house dick with open admiration.

Fenny said wearily, “Going to be a long day. Not ten yet.” He looked at the slim watch on his thick wrist.

“Why, that’s the watch!”

Fenny nodded. “Gave the bellhop forty bucks for it,” he said. “But no kidding, Alberts, did I really get a bargain?”