Alphabet Hicks

Thirteen

“Waiting for me?” Hicks asked.

Vail said yes.

Hicks stopped in front of him and surveyed him with a swift inclusive glance. The Vail corporeal substance presented no feature that appealed to him; it lacked all semblance of grace; and he was stirred to active and irritated dislike by the broad insensitive nose, the cold shrewd eyes, and the thin selfish mouth. His fingers twitched with a desire to pick the visitor up without further ado and toss him downstairs; controlling that, he unlocked the door of his room and invited him to enter, let him have the comfortable chair, and turned the other chair around to face him.

“I tried to phone you,” Vail said, “but you don’t seem to have one.”

“No. If I had a phone people might call me up. Also it costs too much.”

Vail’s thin lips twisted with what was presumably intended as a smile. “I was asking my friend, Inspector Crouch of the police, about you this morning, and learned that you’re a very interesting character.”

“I don’t suppose,” Hicks remarked, “that you came down here just to tell me that?”

“Oh, no. I came to ask the purpose of your call at my office yesterday.”

“To try to find out whether Mrs. Dundee had ever been there to see you, and if so when and how often. Is that all?”

“I see.” Vail leaned back in the chair and stuck his thumbs in his vest pockets. “Then she didn’t send you. You’re working for Dundee.”

Hicks didn’t speak.

“Aren’t you?”

“Try another one,” Hicks suggested. “Ask me who darns my socks.”

Vail frowned. “All I’m trying to do,” he said evenly, “is to establish a basis. We may be able to discuss things to our mutual advantage, but before we can do so we shall have to establish a basis. I am prepared to be quite frank. For instance, does this interest you? Mrs. Dundee did call at my office yesterday noon.”

“Not much.”

“That doesn’t interest you?”

“Not much.” Hicks gestured impatiently. “Forget the basis and start with the mutual advantage. What have I got that you want?”

“You have intelligence. According to my friend the inspector, an extremely acute intelligence.”

“You can’t have that. I’m planning to keep it.”

“I don’t want it. I manage well enough with my own. I merely want you to use your intelligence.” Vail removed his thumbs from his pockets and leaned forward with his palms on his knees. “And persuade Dick Dundee to use his, if he has any left, which seems dubious. I put the facts squarely to you. Over two years ago Dundee took a hostile attitude toward me, but it was a long time before I learned why, that he suspected me of getting his formulas. I tried to tell him his suspicion was absurd, but he wouldn’t listen. The fact is, of course, that coincidences continuously occur in all fields of scientific research, and that is especially true of a field as specialized as ours. Dundee ought to know that; he does know it. Somehow he got this idiotic idea in his head. But I didn’t know until yesterday that it had become an obsession with him. From what his wife told me, he has acquired the fantastic notion that she has been selling his secret formulas to me. That’s ridiculous. Simply ridiculous.”

Hicks scratched the side of his nose and offered no comment.

“Well?” Vail inquired.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I am telling you that Dundee’s suspicion that I have bought his formulas from his wife is ridiculous. Where did he get it? What evidence can he have?”

“Search me.”

“There is no evidence. There can be none.”

“Then he hasn’t got any.”

“And it was in an effort to get some that you came to my office yesterday. Isn’t that correct?”

“Nuts,” Hicks said disgustedly. “You’re not that clumsy. Maybe we do need a basis. Cut out the act that you came here to try to pump me. That’s kindergarten stuff. Possibly you’re leading up to something reasonable, I don’t know, but I do know why you came. Because you’re good and scared.”

The substitute for a smile twisted Vail’s lips. “Scared? My dear sir. Of Dick Dundee? Of you?”

“I don’t know who of, but I know what about. Murder.”

Vail’s brows went up. “Murder?” He made a noise evidently intended to signify mirth. “Do you mean I am afraid of being murdered? By Dundee?”

“No. The murder has already been committed.”

“Not on me. I am quite intact.”

“Martha Cooper isn’t.”

“Martha Cooper? What—” Vail stopped. He wet his lips. “Oh! That’s the name of the woman who was killed by her husband up at Dundee’s place near Katonah. Isn’t it? Martha Cooper? I saw it in the morning paper. May I ask where you got the strange idea that there is anything in that to concern me?”

“It just occurred to me,” Hicks declared, “sitting here looking at you. I thought I’d try it out. Something has certainly happened to change you since yesterday. Then you ordered me out. Now you go to all the trouble of asking your friends the police about me, and digging up my address, and traveling down here in the slums — do you suppose it’s another coincidence in scientific research?”

Hicks smiled at him.

“I begin,” Vail said acidly, “to question Inspector Crouch’s opinion of your intelligence.”

“You’re wise. Crouch exaggerates.”

“And I regret it.” Vail leaned back and stuck his thumbs in his pockets again. “Because I assure you it wasn’t fright that brought me here. I sent you off yesterday in a fit of temper. I shouldn’t have done so. Dundee’s absurd suspicions have annoyed me, and he has refused to discuss the matter, and you offered an opportunity for discussion and I should have seized it. That’s why I came to see you. But with your ridiculous remark about murder—”

“Forget it.” Hicks waved it away. “I get spells like that.”

“I would advise you to control them. Under the circumstances it may be useless to mention the proposal I intended to make...”

“Suit yourself.”

“But it can do no harm. I propose that you call on the director of our research department, Dr. Rollins. He will open the records for you. He will demonstrate that all of our new introductions for the past two years, including carbotene — I mention that because I understand Dundee has charged that that formula was stolen from him — they have all been developed independently in our laboratories. You will be permitted to investigate fully, and I am sure you will be satisfied that my contention is justified. And that you will be able to satisfy Dundee also, if he hasn’t entirely lost his reason.”

“That might work if I—”

“Just a moment.” Vail was slowly rubbing his palms together. “I want to be completely fair about this. I am aware that it would not be to your advantage to accept this proposal. The investigation you are making for Dundee might go on for months, and of course he is paying you well, whereas if you do what I suggest the matter can be closed up in a few days. I have no right to ask you to make that sacrifice. If and when it is closed, I am willing to make up the difference to you personally. The most satisfactory arrangement would be to agree in advance on a flat sum. Say a cash payment of ten thousand dollars?”

Hicks appeared to be considering. “In twenty-dollar bills?”

“Any way you like.” Vail wet his lips. “The arrangement would of course be confidential.”

“I warned you that Crouch exaggerates.”

Vail brushed that aside. “And the sooner it is done the better. Mrs. Dundee’s call on me yesterday was disturbing. Very. Say tomorrow morning at the factory? I’ll take you out there myself and instruct Dr. Rollins to—”

The door swung open and George Cooper entered. He came in three paces, was there before Hicks could move, glanced from one to the other, and fastened his gaze on Hicks.

“Where’s my hat?” he demanded.

Hicks, on his feet, realized with one glance that this was a different George Cooper. This Cooper was in his senses, completely in command of himself. His eyes, bloodshot and swollen as they were, were steady and fully perceptive.

“You haven’t got any hat,” Hicks told him. “If you’ll wait for me downstairs in the restaurant — I’ll be down in a couple of minutes—”

“I’ll get along without a hat,” Cooper interrupted. His tone was not friendly. “Also I’ll get along without you, but I want that phonograph record and I want it now.”

“What phonograph record?”

“My wife’s voice. It begins, ‘Good lord, let me sit down and gasp a while! I know I’m late but I had an awful time getting here I never saw such traffic.’ That’s how it begins—”

“You’re dreaming,” Hicks said curtly.

“Oh, no. I’m through dreaming.”

“Then you’re batty. It is conceivable that I might have swiped your hat. But where and how and why did I swipe a phonograph record of your wife’s voice?”

“You’re lying,” Cooper said, but not with conviction.

“Not at present.” Hicks crossed to him and took his arm. “Listen, brother. You’re hearing things. I would advise you—”

“I don’t need any advice.” Cooper pulled his arm loose. “And I’ll tell you something, I know what happened, don’t think I don’t. I haven’t got it straightened out, but I’m going to. I’m going up there and I’m going to straighten it out.” He was frowning in concentration. “If it’s the last thing I do on earth, and maybe it will be.”

He turned and was gone. Hicks stepped to the threshold and saw his head descend out of sight, down the stairs, then closed the door and went back to his chair. He looked at Vail, and saw that Vail’s lids were so narrowed as to make his eyes tiny colorless beads, the eyes of a wary and malevolent pig.

Hicks asked softly, “You know him, do you?”

Vail’s head moved just perceptibly for a negative shake. “No. But I recognized him. From his picture in the paper.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“Is it customary for a murderer to drop in and ask you for his hat?”

Hicks smiled. “It is a bit rococo, isn’t it? The poor guy’s brain is curdled. Looking for a phonograph record of his wife’s voice! Can you beat that?”

“I am a little curdled myself. He is a fugitive from the law. You made no effort to detain him.”

“Neither did you.” Hicks was smiling at him. “But take it from me, his trade-in value is way down. It isn’t worth the effort. Not in the same class with the offer you were making when he popped in. I wish I could accept that. I sure do.”

“I trust you have the good sense to accept it.”

“I haven’t.” Hicks continued to smile. “If you knew me better you would be going. It takes a while for an idea to work its way into my chest. When that happens, say in another half a minute, with the idea that you had the gall to try to bid me in, belly, guts and all, for a measly ten thousand bucks, I shall start operating on you.” The smile had gone and Hicks’s eyes were glittering. “If you knew me better you would know that.”

“My offer was merely—”

Hicks stood up.

“—a business proposal—”

Hicks moved.

To do Vail justice, his departure was more of a withdrawal in order than a flight. He moved with expedition, but not precipitately, in getting his hat, opening the door, and passing through.

Hicks shut the door again, crossed to a window and stuck his head out, and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of Cooper. In a moment Vail appeared on the sidewalk below and strode off in the direction of Second Avenue. There was determination and purpose in his stride.

“Healthy and happy,” Hicks muttered. “Not a mark on him. I sure am developing a remarkable self-control.”

He left the window, went to the bureau and opened the bottom drawer, and from underneath a pile of pajamas took out the sonograph plates and counted them. Eight. Near the center of the one on top was a deep scratch in the form of a V which he had put there himself with his new pocket knife. Getting his hat from a hook on the wall, he went down to the restaurant, asked Rosario for paper and string, and made a package.

“He went out,” Rosario said. “You know?”

“Yeah, I know. How much do I owe you?”

“You owe nothing. He paid.”

“The dickens he did.”

“And here is eighty cents change he didn’t take.”

“Keep it.”

Rosario dropped the silver into his pocket, glanced around to make sure that the room was empty, and whispered hoarsely, “I saw his picture in the paper.”

“Okay, he probably won’t get far.” Hicks got the string tied, took another look at the disk he had kept out to make sure it was the one with the V on it, and handed the package to Rosario. “Here, will you keep this in a safe place for me?”

“Sure.”

“You are a great man, Rosy. You don’t ask questions. A great man.”

“Great enough,” Rosario agreed. “Except too fat. God above, if you catch me eating!”

Hicks left him. At the curb he climbed into the company car. At the corner of Second Avenue he halted at a newsstand for an evening paper and slipped the sonograph plate in its folds. At 31st Street he stopped in front of a drugstore, entered and found the phone booth, and called the Dundee number at Katonah. Heather Gladd’s voice answered.

“This is Hicks. How are you?”

“Oh — I’m all right.”

“Where are you, at the house?”

“No, at the office. I’m trying to clean up some work. I wasn’t — I couldn’t just sit any more. Where did you—”

“Are there any cops around?”

“I think not. Two of them left about an hour ago—”

“Well, here’s some exercise for you. Mental. One of them may be listening in at the house, or they may even have the wire tapped. If so, they don’t need to know your private affairs. You will probably have a visitor in an hour or so, the gentleman who was present at the reading of your love letters. He is no longer in a fog. He intends to straighten things out, which he is not competent to do, and among other things he will want to know about the one that was not a love letter. I have told him he is dreaming. You will tell him the same. You will discuss nothing with anyone whatever. Have you kept your promise?”

A silence.

“Have you?”

“Yes. But I want those—”

“Don’t use any words that a third-rate intelligence would understand. You’re in danger. Your life is in danger. I’ll be up there later, or I may phone you. You shouldn’t be around in the open. You could come to New York—”

“Nonsense. Nobody has any reason to do anything to me.” Heather’s voice was scornful. “But if he comes — the police—”

“Forget it. He’s out of it.”

“How do you know—”

“I know everything. Up to a certain point. You be a good girl and hold everything until you hear from me, and drink plenty of water and keep your feet warm.”

Hicks rang off, and dialed another number. The second conversation was much briefer. He asked to speak to Mrs. Dundee, and after a wait her voice was in his ear.

“This is Hicks. I’m coming to see you. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t know...” She hesitated. “My husband is here—”

“Good! Keep him! Fifteen minutes.”