Shadow 291 - Teardrops of Buddha 04-01-45, The by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street and Smith
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

Who could pass up a half-price chance to buy a yacht with a quick re-sale value?

Certainly not Janice Moreland, when she heard the offer over the telephone. But half an hour later, when the yacht-owners walked into the Moreland living room, Janice forgot all about boats.

Meeting Ted Trent, the girl began to stammer excuses that ended abruptly when he introduced Lamont Cranston.

Then the girl really froze.

Thinking of the murders, Janice was looking at the telephone, wondering how she could reach it, when Cranston calmly intervened:

“You should thank me, Miss Moreland, for saving you the trouble where Niles Naseby was concerned.”

Those blue eyes showed indignation; then softened suddenly. But the girl’s tone was cold and hard.

“You are right,” Janice admitted. “I could have murdered Naseby.”

“And Welk?”

“Not Welk.” Janice shook her head. “He was only Naseby’s tool. I think you should know, considering how close you were to the case.”

Cranston’s steady gaze said neither yes nor no. As if to prove her point, Janice produced a set of colored photographs from a cabinet and spread them on the table.

“The stage sets from Bombay Moon,” she said. “Of course you recognize them.”

“I didn’t see the show,” replied Cranston. “it closed too soon.”

“Notice anything unusual about the stage sets?”

“Yes.” Cranston nodded. “They aren’t stage sets.”

Staring over Cranston’s shoulder, Ted began to understand. Somehow, the proportions were wrong. These magnificent contraptions: a Hindu throne, fine screens composed entirely of gold filigree; huge vases formed of precious mosaics; tapestries of woven silver adorned with jewelled hems - all gave the impression of an art collection rather than the trappings of a theatrical show.

Other photographs were similarly out of line. They showed suits of jewelled armor; decorative tables with inlaid tops; incense burners and decorative tableware. No stage props needed the fine design that showed in these close-up photographs.

“I found these at Welk’s,” explained Janice. “They are the originals; he made the copies that matched them.”

Cranston nodded as though he understood. Janice went on:

“It was his loss on Bombay Moon that broke my father,” explained Janice, “but he couldn’t blame Niles Naseby. It had all been pure speculation, with all expenses accounted for. Backing a show takes money; dad knew that when he went into it.

“There was one thing, though, that kept preying on his mind before we sent him to the sanitarium. He kept muttering that he and Naseby never should have listened to Welk. He said artists never could be anything but extravagant. Somehow it impressed me that Naseby must have worked his crooked business through Welk.

“So I decided to find out what I could about Welk. I heard he needed a new model, so I applied, without telling him who I was. I needed a name and address” - the girl’s frown lessened to a half smile - “so I found them. I took the job with Welk.”

As Janice finished, Cranston gestured to the photographs.

“You found out why he copied these?”

“They had something to do with sending Bombay Moon on tour to the Orient,” replied Janice.

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