The Blind Barber

'Yes. I'll give it to you straight from the table. And the man who's got that emerald at this very minute,' announced Warren, leaning over and pointing his finger in the captain's face, 'is none other than the dastardly crook who's masquerading on this boat as Doctor Oliver Harrison Kyle.'

Morgan's spirit, uttering a deep groan, rose from his body and flapped out the porthole on riddled wings. He thought: It's all up now. This is the end. The old mackerel will utter one whoop, go mad, and call for assistance. Morgan expected many strange, possibly intricate observations from the captain. He expected him to order a strait-waistcoat. He expected, in fact, every conceivable thing except what actually happened. For fully a minute Whistler stared, his handkerchief at his forehead.

'You, too?' he said. 'You think so, too?' His voice awed. 'Out of the mouths of babes and — and lunatics. But wait. I forgot to show you. That was why I wanted you here. I don't believe it. I can't believe it. But when even the maniacs can see it, I've got to hard my helm. Besides, it may not mean that. I don't believe it. I'm going insane myself. Here! Here! Read this!' He whirled to his desk and rummaged. 'This was what I wanted you to see. It came this morning.'

He held out a radiogram, delicately scented with Swat Number 2 Instantaneous Insect Exterminator, and handed it to Morgan.

Commander, S.S. Queen Victoria, at sea [it ran]. Federal agent reports unknown man picked up supposedly dying Chevy Chase outside Washington March 25. Thought victim auto accident concussion of brain. No identification no papers or marks in clothing. Patient rushed to Mercy Hospital in coma. Two weeks delirious until yesterday. Still incoherent but claims to be person aboard your ship. Federal agent thinks crook responsible Stelly and MacGee jobs. Federal agent thinks also physician is impostor on your ship. Well-known figure and must be no mistake made or trouble, and medical profession influential care all sides…

Morgan whistled. Warren uttered an exclamation of triumph as he read the message across the other's shoulder. 'You've come to that, have you?' demanded Captain Whistler. 'If that message is right, I don't know what to think. There's no other physician than Dr. Kyle aboard the ship — except the ship's doctor, and he's been with me seven years.'

Will not be definite case trouble. Arrest nobody yet. Am sending man Inspector Patrick knows accused personally. Patrick sailed S.S. Etrusca arrive Southampton one day before you. Afford him facilities. Advise.

Arnold, Commissioner N.Y.P.D.

'Ha-ha!' said Warren. He threw out his chest. He took the radiogram from Morgan and flourished it over his head. 'Now say I'm crazy, Skipper! Go on, say it — if you can. By God! I knew I was right. I had him figured out… ' 'How?' demanded Captain Whistler. Warren stopped, his mouth slightly open. They all saw the open trap into which, with cheers and wide eyes, Warren had deliberately walked. To tell why he thought Dr. Kyle guilty was exactly the one thing he could not do. Morgan froze. He saw his companion's eyes assume a rather glassy look in the long silence…

'I'm waiting, young man,' said Whistler, snappishly. 'Sink me! I'd be eternally blasted if I'd let the police get all the credit for a capture on my ship, sink me! provided I could think of a way to trap that — Go on! Speak up! Why do you think he's guilty?'

'I tell you I've said it from the first. Ask Peggy and Hank and the captain if I haven't! I've sworn he was posing as Dr. Kyle, ever since he batted me over the head in my cabin…'

He stopped suddenly. Captain Whistler, who had started to take a healing pull at his whisky-and-soda, choked. He put down the glass.

'Dr. Kyle batted you over the head in your cabin?' he said, beginning to look curiously at the other. 'When was this?'

'I mean, I was mistaken. That was an accident! Honest it was, Captain. I fell and hit my head—'

'Then I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, young man.

/ will not be trifled with any longer. You made an accusation, and it seems — I say it seems—to be right. Why did you accuse Dr. Kyle?' Warren ruffled his hair. He gritted his teeth feverishly.

'Well, Captain,' he said,after a pause, 'I knew it! He looked guilty. He — had a kind of guilty look about him when he was so pleasant at breakfast and said somebody'd been raped; that's why… You don't believe me, do you? Well, I'm going to show you, and I'm going to prove that he's got to be put under lock and key! So I'll tell you why I came up here to see you. There was a murder committed aboard this boat last night, you old sturgeon! Hank,' said Warren, whirling around, 'give me that razor.'

It is a literal fact that Captain Whistler shot at least six inches into the air. Without doubt this was due partly to the extraordinary power in his sea-legs that uncoiled him from his chair like a spring; but behind this materialistic explanation there surged a stronger spiritual ecstasy. And he did not forget what to do. Even as he was descending, his hand flashed into the drawer of the desk and emerged levelling an automatic pistol.

'All right,' he said. 'Steady, me lads____'

'Captain, it's absolutely true,' said Morgan, seizing his arm. 'He's not mad and he's not joking. This criminal did commit a murder; I mean, the impostor on the boat. If you'll give me one minute, I'll prove it. Come on, Valvick. To hell with his gun. Let's hold him back in his chair and sit on him until we can jam the truth down his throat. By this time your second officer will have made the rounds of the boat, and he'll find a woman missing. That woman was murdered last night, and she's overboard now—' There was a knock at the door. Everybody froze; why, none of them knew, except that it may have been some latent idea they were all making outstanding asses of themselves. A silence fell while Whistler gibbered a command to come in.

'Beg leave to report, sir,' said the crisp voice of the second officer. 'And' — his eyes flashed over— 'and to Mr. Morgan, as you ordered. Two of us have made a complete round of the ship. We have investigated every passenger and member of the crew. There was nobody hurt last night.'

A vein was beginning to beat in Morgan's temple. He controlled his voice. 'Right-ho, Mr. Baldwin. But we're not looking for a person who was merely hurt. We're looking for a woman who is murdered and missing… '

Baldwin stiffened. 'Well, sir, you may be,' he said in a tone of regret. 'But you won't find her. I have checked over personally everybody on this ship, and there is nobody missing, either.'

'Is that so, Mr. Baldwin?' inquired Whistler, almost genially. 'Well, well.'

Warren was escorted to the brig, under heavy guard, at exactly 11:45 Eastern daylight-saving time.

INTERLUDE

Observations of Dr. Fell

In run great book-lined room above Adelphi Terrace the warm May sun threw flat shadows on the floor and the river glittered under its blaze. Through the open windows they could hear the distant bang of the clock in Westminster Tower beating out twelve. Cigar stumps had accumulated, and Morgan was growing hoarse from his recital.

Sitting back in the chair, his eyes half-closed behind the eyeglasses on the ribbon, his chins upheaving in chuckles under the bandit's moustache, Dr. Fell shifted his gaze from the distant traffic along the Embankment.

'Noon,' said Dr. Fell. 'Now, break off for a minute and I'll order up some lunch. A long cool draught of beer will do you an uncommon amount of good.' Wheezing, he pulled a bell-cord. 'First, my boy, allow me to say that I would have given a year of my already wasted life to have been with you on that voyage. Heh! Heh-heh-heh! And at