Crime County by Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson

Author:Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson [Grant, Maxwell & Gibson, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Espionage, Fiction, Thrillers
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1940-09-18T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XII. CRIME'S NEW TRAIL

JUNIUS THARBEL stood supreme in Darport. For years, he had been king dog throughout the county, but never before had he silenced his critics so thoroughly. In fact, opinion was actually unanimous–though in a few cases, begrudging–that Tharbel was the master crime-tracker of all time.

The thirty thousand dollars recovered from Matt's car accounted for the funds that the Darport Trust Co. had lost. The question of Breeland's fifty thousand dollars was another matter.

He had simply stored the payroll in the bank for safekeeping; the lost funds were his own. Tharbel, at least, could name the man who still held that portion of the swag. He did so in the presence of reporters.

Tharbel named Speed Kroner.

It was odd, how gullibly the reporters took that statement. Odd, at least, to Tharbel's friend Wade Hosth, who was lounging in a corner of the office. Odd, too, to Clyde Burke, the one reporter who could have put some pointed questions, had he chosen.

The proposition happened to be a paradox.

Only a few days ago, Junius Tharbel had emphatically declared that Matt Felson must have cleared the county, just as Speed Kroner had. Tharbel had said that the case was beyond his jurisdiction. Classing it as closed, he had gone hunting.

Tharbel had brought back Matt Felson, dead, and other crooks, alive. He had actually belied his own statement. He acted as though his search for Matt had been an afterthought; but that was just part of his pose.

All along, Tharbel had recognized that Matt could not have left the county on the night of the bank robbery. His whole talk of giving up the case had been a bluff that would lull Malt when the crook heard of it.

Last night, Tharbel had made his bluff good. Here he was, pacing by his window in the late afternoon, solemnly stating that the case was this time closed for keeps. Speed Kroner had taken Breeland's fifty thousand, because none of Matt's bills had tallied with the lists. Since Speed was unquestionably gone from the county, Tharbel was powerless to recover the pay roll.

But did Tharbel really mean it?

Clyde Burke wondered. The amazing thing about Tharbel's bluffs was his ability to repeat them. Checking back on the detective's picturesque past, Clyde could recall that Tharbel had worked the same game over and over; so often, that everyone either forgot it, or supposed that Tharbel would not have the gall to stage the same stunt again.

Tharbel was a master of primitive psychology. He dealt in terms of A, B, C, and stayed there, letting others go on to X, Y, Z. Right now, Tharbel was stating facts that listeners took because they were simple; a term which applied to the listeners as well as to the facts.

Speed Kroner had taken Breeland's fifty thousand dollars. Since Matt Felson didn't have the payroll, it must still be with Speed. Inasmuch as Speed was known to have fled the county, Tharbel was powerless to recover the missing cash.

To Clyde, those facts might add up to anything.

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