Jupiter sipped his drink thoughtfully.
Betty said brightly, “You know, Mr. Renier, this young man is having great fun. He thinks he can solve Professor Singer’s murder all by himself. He won’t tell anyone about it. You’d better be careful what you say to him — he may suspect you.” The Frenchman laughed, and pulled out his watch. “Ah, mon Dieu, it is late. I must retire; I have to catch a train early in the morning.”
He got up.
Jupiter rose with him. “Well, thanks a lot, Mr. Renier. This morning you unwittingly gave me a tip and now you’ve helped me some more. If I do solve this case, you’ll know you helped a lot.
Renier gave a short bow. “Au ’voir, Miss Mahan. Good night, Mr. — er—”
“Jones.”
“Jones — ah yes. Bonsoir, Mr. Jones.”
He tiptoed out of the room.
“I like his hair. He may be light on his feet, but I like his hair,” said Betty into her glass.
“You’re getting to the sentimental stage. It’s a bad sign.”
“Frenchmen make wonderful lovers,” she answered softly.
“That’s hearsay, I trust,” said Jupiter.
When they were finishing their second round, Jupiter said suddenly, “Would you care to join me in a small robbery?”
She clapped her hands. “Oh, goody! A robbery! But, Jupiter, you never told me you were on the Lampoon?”
“Very funny. Come on.”
They got up. Jupiter scribbled his name across the back of the check.
“Is this going to be a big robbery or a small one? Am I dressed properly? You know I’ve had my eye on the statue of John Harvard for some time.”
“I’ll tell you about it.”
CHAPTER XV
THEY drove out to Cambridge. Jupiter parked the car near the back entrance to the Museum.
“All set?” he asked.
Betty whispered, “You’re sure your gun’s loaded?”
“Quiet,” commanded Jupiter.
“If you work this you’re a magician.”
“I’m a magician. Come along, little one.”
There was a light shining through a window in the basement. The night watchman with his police dog was sitting inside. Jupiter knocked on the door. The man peered out skeptically. Then he saw Betty. He opened the door.
Betty said, “Greetings, Abner. We’ve come to read the gas meter.”
The man’s mouth dropped open as if someone had cut the muscles in his jaw. “Now, Miss Mahan — what do you want?”
“Mr. Jones, here, has a test in Fine Arts tomorrow and he’s forgotten to study the slides. It’s so like him.”
Jupiter said, “Pay no attention to her, Abner, we want to look at Singer’s office.”
They started to walk in.
Abner backed away doubtfully. “I don’t know as I ought, Miss Mahan. I have orders . . .”
“Fie on your orders, my good man,” said Betty. “Would you keep us out in the cold?”
“Listen, Abner, we just want to see some papers in Singer’s office. I’m working with the police on the murder; it’s perfectly O. K.,” explained Jupiter.
“That’s right,” added Betty. “The sergeant has a bad cold and asked Mr. Jones to carry on for him. Wouldn’t you like your picture in the paper?”
Abner was swamped by the barrage. “Well, as long as you’re here, Miss Mahan,” he quavered.
“Now you’re talking like a gentleman and a scholar,” said Betty.
The police dog wasn’t as convinced as Abner. He gave a few abortive snarls before the watchman soothed him.
Jupiter said, “Did Singer ever work here at night that you can remember?”
Abner scratched his head. “Lemme see — I don’t remember ever seeing him.”
“Not recently?” said Jupiter. “Say three weeks or a month ago?”
A light broke over his face. “Now that you mention it, he did. About a month ago. Came in about nine — said he had important work to finish. Couldn’t wait until morning.”
Jupiter was jubilant. “Did he have a bundle with him? Say about this size?
He made a rough demonstration of a two-foot square.
“Yes, he did! Told me he was going to the laboratory.”
“And he took it out with him?”
Abner nodded.
“How long did he stay?”
Abner surveyed the ceiling. “Don’t know. Not more ’n a half hour.”
“Did you stay down here all the time?”
“Sure. Why not?” He seemed to feel a little guilty.
“Good,” said Jupiter. “Let’s go up and see his office.”
Abner switched on a light and they walked through the basement. Going up the stairs, their footsteps echoed through the empty building. It was dark on the main floor. The watchman took out a flashlight.
“Whose teeth do I hear chattering?” said Betty. “They’re not mine, are they?” ‘
They went through the library and Abner turned on a light in Singer’s office. Jupiter went straight to the desk, opened the drawer, and began going over its contents. No one spoke while he examined every drawer. It took him about five minutes.
“Can’t find it?” asked Betty.
Jupiter didn’t look up. “Try the files.”
Betty went over to the cabinet against the wall.
Jupiter got up and took Abner aside.
“Listen, Abner, I’ve got to go to the toilet. Let me borrow your flashlight a minute. You stay here with Miss Mahan; I think she’s a little frightened.”
Abner acquiesced. The spirit of guarding frightened ladies had not died in him. Jupiter had counted on it.
He took the flashlight and went out through the library into the hall. The toilet was in the basement, but Jupiter went upstairs to the galleries. He flashed the light on several paintings before he found the one he wanted. The beautifully sad face of Lotto’s “Madonna” in her cool blue robes shone in the light.
He set the light on the floor and carefully lifted the painting from the wall. Even in the darkness he could see the white spot on the wall where the painting had been. He picked up the light and carried the painting silently down the stairs. When he arrived at the main floor, he kept on down the stairs to the basement. The police dog growled
