Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 2: Death in Ecstasy, Vintage Murder, Artists in Crime

‘See here,’ he said. ‘Just what do you mean? I’m not muscling in on any homicide rackets. I’ve told you a straight story about that book and I’m sticking to it. If you don’t believe me – find out.’

‘Mr Ogden, I fully believe your story. But there are more rackets than one, you know.’

‘Yeah? Just what are you aiming to insinuate?’

‘Merely that I have far too high an opinion of your intelligence to suppose that you would allow yourself to become as enamoured of transcendental mumbo-jumbo as you would have me believe.’

‘Are you telling me the spiritual dope we hand out here is phoney?’

‘I’m saying that you aren’t so hypnotized by it that you’ve lost your business man’s acumen.’

Mr Ogden looked very hard at the inspector and a slow grin began to dawn on his face.

‘And I’m saying,’ Alleyn continued, ‘that you don’t float anything with big fat cheques unless you’re going to get a more tangible return for your money than a dose of over-proof spiritual uplift.’

‘Maybe,’ said Mr Ogden with a fat chuckle.

‘In short, Mr Ogden, I want to know how you stand as regards the finance of this affair. I’ve got to find out how everybody stands. It’s no good mincing matters. All of the Initiates come under suspicion of this crime; yourself as much as anyone. Believe me, you cannot afford to keep back any information when there’s a capital charge in the offing.’

‘Just when did you get your big idea that I’m interested financially?’

‘I got it the first time I saw you. I know that there are, if you will forgive me for saying so, many hard-headed Americans who can be taken in by highly-coloured religious sects. I told myself you might be one of them, but somehow I didn’t think you were. You seemed to me to be too shrewd. Your attitude towards Mr Garnette, when the theft of the bonds was discovered, confirmed my opinion. Of course, if you prefer not to tell me how matters stand, we can ferret round and find out. Mr Garnette is now so alarmed he will no doubt be ready to give me his version.’

‘Like hell he will, the dirty what’s it,’ said Mr Ogden indignantly. ‘See here, Chief, you win this deal, hands down. Bar one point. Until today I was putting my OK stamp on the doctrine of the Sacred Flame. I’ve never backed a phoney deal in my life and I’m not starting in now. No, sir. The Sacred Flame and Jasper Garnette looked like clean peppy uplift to me. When Garnette and me met up on that trip, he outlined his scheme and he slipped me the line of talk. He told me it’d need capital. Well, I heard him address the passengers and the way he had those society dames asking if he’d accept ten dollars as a favour for the Seamen’s Fund got me thinking. Before we landed I’d figured it out. I floated the concern on a percentage basis and Garnette couldn’t have done it without me. We were in cahoots, and now, the dirty so-and-so, he’s pulled out those bonds on me.’

‘Are there any other shareholders?’

‘M. de Raveenje put five hundred pounds into it. All he could find. The slump hit him up some. Say, I reckon he’ll want to know the how-so about those bonds. He’s white all through, and he saw Cara way up among the gods.’

‘Did you,’ asked Alleyn, ‘have a written agreement?’

‘Certainly we did. Drawn up by a lawyer. Each of us got a copy. Want to see it, Chief?’

‘Yes, we’d better have a look at it. I wonder where Mr Garnette keeps his.’

‘Most likely at his bank. He’s a wise coon!’

‘You are convinced Garnette took the bonds?’

‘I wish to God I wasn’t,’ said Mr Ogden unexpectedly. ‘I – I kind of reverenced that guy. Me! Maybe I’ll learn sense – next year.’

‘Did you keep books?’

‘Yes, sir. I did the books and Raveenje and Garnette could see them at any time. Raveenje has got them home right now.’

‘How did it work?’

‘Like any regular company. I’m the biggest shareholder – I put up the most dollars. Garnette is paid a salary and he draws twenty per cent of the profits. That was square enough.’

‘Do you know Mr Garnette is a fellow-countryman of yours?’

‘Mr Ogden looked as if he might be a sign for an inn called The Incredulous Man. ‘Forget it,’ he said briefly. ‘Him! No, sir! We certainly breed one brand of polecat, but it ain’t called Garnette. Look at his line of talk! Where do you get that stuff anyway?’

‘You might say,’ said Alleyn with a glance at Fox, ‘that the gentleman told me himself.’

‘Then he piled up one more lie on to his total.’

‘Ah, well,’ sighed Alleyn, ‘I think that’s all for the moment, Mr Ogden.’

‘Good! But listen, Chief, I don’t want to get in wrong over the financial side of his joint. Get this. I put up the dollars. I saw it as a commercial proposition and I backed it. I’ve run my department straight and I’ve had no more’n my fair share. Same goes for Raveenje. He’s on the level all right. I look at it this way. This temple has brought colour and interest into folk’s lives. I’d thought it was something more than that, day-before-yesterday, when Garnette looked like a regular guy. But even if Garnette’s synthetic, and he certainly is, it’s been a great little party.’ He paused and then repeated as though it was a manufacturer’s slogan: ‘It has brought colour and interest into otherwise drab and grey lives.’

‘Together with hysteria and heroin, Mr Ogden.’

Nigel, who had managed to make unostentatious shorthand notes throughout this interview, now watched Ogden eagerly. Would this shot go home? He decided that the American’s astonishment bore the unmistakable stamp of sincerity.

‘What the sweltering hell d’you mean?’ asked Ogden. ‘Heroin? Snow? Who’s doping in this crowd? By heck!’ he added after a moment’s pause, ‘is that what’s wrong with young Pringle? Who’s started it?’

‘To the best of my belief, Mr Garnette.’

The American swore, heartily, solidly, and with lurid emphasis. Alleyn listened politely, Fox with a dispassionate air of expert criticism.

‘By God,’ ended Mr Ogden, ‘I wish to – I’d never touched this – concern. Never no more! It’s taken a murder to put me wise, but never no more. Say, listen. Chief, as God’s my witness I never – Aw, what’s the use?’

‘It’s all right,’ said Alleyn quietly. ‘We have been told you were not mixed up in it.’

‘How’s that?’

‘Pringle told me. Don’t worry about it too much, Mr Ogden. We’re not going to pull you in for drug-running.’

Ogden looked nervously from Fox to Alleyn.

‘Not for drug-running,’ he said. ‘I’m not raving about the way you said it.’

‘Now look here,’ said Alleyn, ‘don’t you go making things more difficult by getting the wind up. I can’t go round like a child in a nursery game saying: “It isn’t you! It isn’t you!” until I get to the “he.” I can only repeat my well-worn slogan that the innocent are safe as long as they stick to the truth.’

‘I hope to hell you’re right.’

‘Of course I’m right. It’ll come out what the Australians call “jakealoo.” Have any of the Initiates ever been to Australia, do you know?’

‘I don’t know, Chief. I haven’t.’

‘They have a strong way of putting things there. But I wander. Don’t worry, Mr Ogden.’

‘That blamed book! If only I knew when it went.’

‘Never mind about the book. I think I can guess when it went and who took it.’

‘Well, ain’t you the clam’s cuticle!’ said Mr Ogden.