Read Online The Case of the One-Penny Orange: A Masao Masuto Mystery (Book Two) by Howard Fast - Free Book Online Page A

who killed Haber was looking for something of great value — which Haber may or may not have provided.”
    â€œThe One-Penny Orange?”
    â€œPerhaps.”
    â€œI still don’t understand. I don’t want to sound egotistical, but if there were a One-Penny Orange in Los Angeles or indeed anywhere in America, missing or presented for sale, I would know about it.”
    â€œI’m sure you would.”
    â€œThen what on earth gives you this fixation on the One-Penny Orange? Do you have any evidence, any reason to believe it exists?”
    â€œPerhaps.”
    â€œHardly an expansive answer. Well, Sergeant —”. He glanced at his watch. “I’ve given you a half hour of my time. I have not done away with either Haber or Gaycheck, but you are welcome to add me to your list of suspects if it pleases you. And if you do come across that One-Penny Orange, I should be delighted to know about it.”
    â€œOnly one more question.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œYou must know most of the important collectors in this area. Are there any of the stature of this man you mentioned — Clevendon?”
    â€œThere is no one of Clevendon’s stature as a collector — unfortunately.”
    â€œPerhaps. But I speak of people who could afford the price of such a stamp.”
    â€œYes, a few. But I see no reason why I should supply their names.”
    â€œI can’t force you to,” Masuto admitted. “On the other hand, I think the D.A. could be persuaded to issue a warrant that would permit me to examine your books — more time-consuming for me, and, I am sure, much more unpleasant for you.”
    Holmbey’s mood changed. His face hardened and his blue eyes closed to slits. He stared at Masuto without replying.
    â€œThere are other ways,” Masuto said quietly. “There are dealers in Beverly Hills and Westwood who could supply the information. I am not threatening you.”
    â€œVery well,” Holmbey said coldly. “There are only four of them, and you’re quite right. Any legitimate dealer would know who they are, so in fact I violate no confidence. Frank Goldway in Palos Verdes, Jerome Clayton in Pasadena, Raymond Cohen in Bel Air, and Lucille Bettner in Beverly Hills.”
    Masuto jotted down the names. “Thank you,” he said, rising. “You’ve been very generous with your time.”
    On his way back to Beverly Hills, Masuto pulled into a gas station to fill his depleted tank, and while waiting he telephoned his cousin, Alan Toyada, who was in the research department of Merrill, Lynch, Pierce, Fenner & Smith.
    â€œWell, Masao,” Toyada greeted him, “I see you’re working again. Live in Beverly Hills and get scragged.”
    â€œI am not interested in your poor sense of humor. I want to know about Holmbey’s — the stamp dealer in downtown L.A.”
    â€œMasao, you know I specialize in Japanese stocks. Anyway, Holmbey’s is not listed. It’s a family outfit.”
    â€œYou have Dun and Bradstreet and other sources. I want to know their condition, their financial standing — or whatever you call it.”
    â€œAll right. Drop around this afternoon and I’ll have it for you.”
    â€œPlease, Alan, I want it now.”
    â€œNow? I can’t drop everything.…”
    â€œYou can. It won’t take you five minutes. I’m in a phone booth in a gas station, but I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”
    â€œMasao, I can’t just …”
    â€œThe next time you want a traffic ticket fixed …”
    â€œWhen did you ever fix a ticket for me? When?”
    â€œI’ll call you back in ten minutes.” Then Masuto hung up, paid for the gas, and drove off. Back in Beverly Hills, he stopped at a pay phone and called Toyada again.
    â€œOkay, Masao — I got what you want. To put it succinctly, their condition is lousy. They are up to their ears