Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine. Vol. 49, No. 1 & 2, January/February 2004

“That’s very kind of you. May I look round?”

“Please do. You just look round and tell me what you like. Remember, ten, no, I said fifteen percent off anything that catches your eye. Free delivery. The best things are in the back. That’s for connoisseurs. Believe me, it’s the best place to spend your money.” The man retreated into his office, and Russell began to walk slowly round the showroom and then the back. He had a list of the stolen property in his pocket, but he knew a lot of it by heart already.

He didn’t have to look far. In one of the rooms at the back virtually the entire loot, furniture with china, were displayed. His eyes widened.

He went back and stepped into the man’s office without knocking. The man looked up. There was a grim look on Russell’s face. Russell placed his card before him. The man looked at it uneasily.

“As you can see, I am an insurance investigator.”

“You’re a bloody spy,” said the man petulantly.

“There’s a roomful of furniture and china at the back,” said Russell evenly, “which was stolen from Brigadier Thundackaray-Harding. Do you want to answer a few questions here, or at the police station?”

“Hey, you’re having me on. There’s no stolen property here.”

Russell pulled the list out of his pocket and threw it in front of the man, “Look for yourself!”

“So the goods are identical.”

“Alright,” said Russell, “shall we call the police here, or do we go along to the station?”

“Just a moment,” said the man, looking thoroughly frightened. “It’s my partner who brought that in, not me.”

“Get him.”

“He won’t be in until...”

“Close up. Let’s take a ride down to the police station.”

“No, no, actually, I think I can get him.”

A quarter of an hour later tires squealed and Clauson appeared. “What’s going on here?” His face was flushed.

“You’ve got a roomful of stolen furniture in the back,” said Russell.

“The stuff you bought from that old bitch,” interrupted his partner.

“Oh, that,” said Clauson airily. “I bought it all from the lady of the house. My partner here was a witness. Weren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s right,” said the partner.

“I’ll bet!” said Russell.

“Of course I did. Paid her a good price, too.”

“Papers to prove it? Receipts?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Ever heard of the tax man?”

“Ever heard of the C.I.D.?” riposted Russell.

“I suppose the old bitch now claims it’s been stolen and wants to put in a claim. Can’t trust people these days, can you? Disgusting. Well, you can tell her...”

“And the date on which you purportedly bought the goods?” asked Russell.

“No purported about it,” said Clauson. “As a matter of fact, the week before I went on holiday... that would be...” He consulted a wall calendar and read off the dates.

Russell smiled. “The lady of the house was in Spain at the time herself.”

“You’re putting me on!”

“The lady of the house, and her husband, and their housekeeper were on holiday in Spain.” said Russell coldly.

“Look, if it was stolen, would I be displaying all that openly?”

“Relying on so much stuff being identical,” said Russell. “Very clever. You’ve probably read Poe?”

“Who the hell’s Poe?” snarled Clauson.

“Well, let’s send for the coppers and they’ll sort it out.” Russell wanted the police to go over the furniture for fingerprints. In case the two hadn’t wiped the furniture clean, there could be the fingerprints of anyone in the household, especially Mrs. Stammers.

“Just a minute,” said Clauson. “The roof repairers. They saw me come in and out.”

“The ones who tipped you off?” asked Russell.

“How do you know?” asked Clauson and looked as if he could bite his own lip.

“Little bird went twee twee,” said Russell.

“Funny.”

“Alright, let’s get your friends here,” said Russell.

“I’ll tell you the truth,” said Clauson. “The roof repairers tipped me off there was this old lady all by herself and a house full of stuff she didn’t appreciate one bit. But I didn’t steal anything. Soft-soaped her a bit and bought it. Would I display it like that if...”

Russell shrugged his shoulders. “Get those guys here, now.”

“I can’t. They’re working.”

“Where?”

“As a matter of fact, I do know, but...”

“We all three go, or its the coppers.”

“I won’t be pressured,” said Clauson.

“No, of course not,” said Russell evenly. “You’re going of your own free will. As is your partner. Come on.”

They drove off in a strained silence, then Clauson spoke. “You don’t really believe I nicked the stuff, do you?”

Russell didn’t answer.

They arrived at the house where the two men were working on the roof. The two recognized the antiques dealers, stopped working for a moment, but then went on somewhat more hurriedly. Clauson gestured for them to come down. They ignored him, He went nearer and hailed them. The two men looked at each other and came slowly down the long ladder. “I told you not to come to me when I’m at work,” said one acting as spokesman.

“It’s urgent,” said Clauson. “And I need your help.”

“What?” the man said ungraciously.