The Cases of Hildegarde Withers (22 page)

“Not
so
fast!”
And
Miss
Hildegarde
Withers
tore
at
her
handbag,
found
a
police
whistle,
and
blew
upon
it
a
tremendous
blast.

Eagle-face
was
wide
awake
at
last.
“Good
God,
woman!”
And
then
to
her
amazed
surprise
the
schoolteacher
was
jerked
rudely
inside
the
sedan.

The
door
slammed
and
the
car
roared
headlong
away.

Miss
Withers
spoke
first.


Kidnapping
,
eh?
Housebreaking,
theft


“Applesauce,”
Hamish
broke
in.
They
turned
up
Seventh
Avenue.
“Okay,
Bianca.”
The
car
stopped
directly
under
a
street
lamp.
Miss
Withers
gasped,
being
beyond
words.
But
Hamish
only
stepped
out
politely,
held
the
door
for
Miss
Withers,
who
emerged
with
most
of
her
dignity
intact,
her
curiosity
aflame.

“I
owe
you
an
explanation,”
said
he
gently.
“But
I
couldn’t
give
it
there.
You
see
this
picture?”

Miss
Withers
saw.
It
was
an
oil,
painted,
it
seemed,
upon
wood,
in
a
battered
frame.
As
far
as
she
could
tell
it
was
a
rather
painstakingly
executed
portrait
of
a
youngish
man
with
whiskers,
wearing
a
sort
of
blue
velvet
cap.
It
was
very
dirty.

“I
bought
this
tonight,”
Hamish
said.
“For
less
than
a
hundred
dollars.
I
couldn’t
wait
for
police
permission.
I
didn’t
want
to
take
it
past
the
newspaper
men
at
the
door.
You
see,
I
may
be
wrong,
but
there’s
a
chance
that
this
is
an
authentic
self-portrait
of
Hans
Holbein,
the
great
court
painter
to
Henry
VIII
of
England.
It
has
something
that
tells
me


He
shrugged.
“Only
study
and
restoration
will
tell
the
truth.”

 

Miss
Withers
was
telling
the
Inspector
all
about
it
down
at
Centre
Street
next
morning.
And
then
Miss
Withers
frowned,
indicating
his
skinned
knuckles.
“More
quiet
work
in
the
back
room?”
she
accused.

“It
was
right
here,
about
half
an
hour
ago,”
he
confessed.
“The
widow
and
her
brother,
a
Mr.
Bogart,
were
here.”

Miss
Withers
nodded.
“The
man
who
didn’t
want
Mrs.
Brotherly
to
go
to
the
police?
A
little
suspicious,
Oscar.”

He
agreed.
“Seems
that
they
really
came
down
to
raise
Cain
because
no
pearls
and
no
money
were
found
on
the
dead
man.
Bogart
even
went
so
far
as
to
say
that
some
of
my
boys
on
the
Squad
could
tell
where
the
pearls
had
gone!”

Piper’s
jaw
was
tight
and
strained,
for
he
was
proud
of
his
boys.
“We
had
a
little
difference
of
opinion
about
that,
and

he
missed
with
his
left
and
I
didn’t.
But
it
jarred
one
thing
out
of
him.
Bogart
confessed
why
he
hadn’t
let
his
sister
go
to
the
police.
It
was
this
telegram,
received
the
day
before
yesterday.
And
if
you
can
make
anything
out
of
it
…”

MUST
DISAPPEAR
BREAK
GENTLY
TO
ANGELA
WILL
CABLE
LATER
ABSOLUTE
SECRECY
IMPORTANT
GET
RID
OF
GREEN
BUDDHA
IN
LIBRARY
AT
ONCE

CARL

Miss
Withers
handed
it
back.
“Well,
did
he?”

“Did
he
what?”

“Get
rid
of
the
green
Buddha?”

Piper
snorted.
“Bogart
and
Mrs.
Brotherly
said
they
did
nothing
of
the
kind.
Impossible

because
for
years
Dr.
Brotherly
has
been
collecting
Oriental
statuettes.
There
are
nearly
a
hundred
Buddhas
in
that
library,
and
more
than
half
of
them
green!”

Miss
Hildegarde
Withers
frowned
thoughtfully.
“By
the
way,
did
you
make
anything
of
that
fingerprint
the
dead
man
was
carrying?”
She
picked
up
the
print
from
his
desk.

Piper
shook
his
head.
“Doesn’t
check
with
anything
in
our
files
or
at
the
D.
J.
down
at
Washington.
Nor
with
any
suspect
in
this
case!”

“Such
a
shame,
Oscar!
To
have
a
nice,
big,
enlarged
fingerprint
and
not
have
it
fit
anywhere.
Mind
if
I
try?”

“Hop
to
it,
Hildegarde.
Anything
else
I
can
do
for
you?”

“There
is,”
she
said,
after
pondering.
“Do
you
happen
to
have
a
copy
of
the
auction
catalogue
for
last
night?”
He
had,
it
developed,
a
sheaf
of
them,
all
wearing
on
the
cover
the
ornate
coat
of
arms
of
the
Sutton
Galleries.
Page
one
she
passed
over,
page
two
began:

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