Read Online Hard Case Crime: Honey in His Mouth by Lester Dent - Free Book Online Page B

you?”
    “Yes.” Mr. Hassam shuddered. “Yes, he did, and it scared me very much, which is why I lost no time in burning it.”
    “The fool! He really is quite insane.”
    “The cablegram said he urgently wanted to talk to one of us on the telephone.”
    “Oh, Lord. He was such an idiot to do that. He should know. Did he mention any names, Doctor Englaster or myself?”
    “No, no names. Poor devil, he has been out of the country five years, out of touch with the situation, so he probably does not know how delicately the sword is balanced over our heads.”
    “Are you going to telephone, as he wishes?”
    “From this country? Not for a million dollars!”
    Miss Muirz had brought the money in a suitcase, which Mr. Hassam now placed on his desk. He and Miss Muirz used both hands to scoop the money into it.
    Nothing had been said about what Mr. Hassam was to do with the money. The matter had been settled earlier; it was part of an established routine. The money was one month’s proceeds from the special import tax levied on machinery imported into the country. By law it was earmarked for the Lady of Hope Memorial Fund for the needy, with El Presidente legal custodian of the fund, the latter technicality actually making it his money. It was being invested abroad, as was customary.
    Now Miss Muirz handed Mr. Hassam an envelope which he found contained the card the New York banking house required its depositors to fill out. Mr. Hassam smiled at the card approvingly. “Very good indeed.” He was referring to El Presidente’s signature on the card, which was not El Presidente’s signature at all, but a forgery by Miss Muirz. He slid the envelope and card into his pocket; when he delivered the money to the New York bank, he would turn in the card with the forged signature. This was also customary. However, El Presidente had not inaugurated the custom, and knew nothing of it. The substance was that Miss Muirz’s forged signature could make a withdrawal, but not El Presidente’s genuine signature.
    It was a bald scheme, and really not as simple as all that.
    Mr. Hassam lit another cigarette for Miss Muirz. “Do you suppose Brother, after hunting for nearly five years, has found what he has been seeking?”
    She grimaced. “I think Brother grows more unbalanced, just as you think.”
    “There is not much doubt, I suppose.”
    Miss Muirz went to the window where she stood smoking and looking down into the street. The street was now almost packed with citizenry.
    “El Presidente is going to make them a speech at two o’clock, Mr. Hassam. He is going to scare the socks off them. He is going to offer to resign.”
    Mr. Hassam swung to look at her. He became pale and had to clear his throat. “Resign? Quit the presidency! Oh, Jesus Christ, he cannot do that to us!”
    Miss Muirz turned from the window with a smile. “Oh, he does not mean it. He wants to throw his shirtless ones into an uproar, so that they will demand very loudly that he stay in office forever. Then he will promise to do so, but only providing they stand with him against the Pope in Rome.”
    “But they are all Catholics themselves. They will be promising to fight themselves.”
    “How many of them have sense enough to think of that? It will stir up a lot of trouble for the Pope.”
    “Well, I can’t see how it can work out for him. He can’t whip the Pope in this country.”
    Miss Muirz laughed outright. “Oh, he has already dismissed the Pope in his mind and is considering taking on God.”
    Mr. Hassam did not like blasphemy, and he blotted his face with his handkerchief, although he supposed she was right. “I don’t know how it will all come out, but none of it is good, because it may bring a crisis before we are ready for it.”
    “Maybe you had better telephone Brother when you reach a safe place.”
    “Are you joking again?”
    “No, I am not.”
    Mr. Hassam nodded. “I did not think you were.”
    Mr. Hassam frequently couriered funds