Read Online The Chinese Jars by William Gordon - Free Book Online Page A

His chiseled face gave the impression of amiability, but Samuel knew him well and knew that he had a petty soul. He was a nervous person with abrupt gestures and was incapable of being still. He had the bad habit of acting like a schoolteacher, pointing his index finger at everything and everybody. This mania always put Samuel on the defensive. Charles was surrounded by paper. Piles of it cluttered all the surfaces in his office, and it was almost impossible to find any vacant space anywhere in the room.
    When Samuel saw him, he was reminded of what a critical and boring person he was in college. His immediate sense was that Charles hadn’t changed much. He had the same air of being an unkempt, petulant adolescent.
    â€œWhat’s up, Sam? You look like you’ve had a rough night,” Charles commented.
    Samuel was surprised. Though he was his sloppy self, wearing his wrinkled outfit, he’d slept well the night before and felt fresh and focused. “I’m investigating the death of a socialite. It’s a strange case,” he admitted. “The dead guy owned five tuxedos but he lived in a closet at Engel’s, the engravers, where he did janitorial work. His death’s been called a suicide, but I’m not so sure it was.”
    â€œYou want the U.S. government to look into this?” asked Charles.
    â€œYeah. I think he had money hidden away,” said Samuel.
    â€œYeah, sure, that’s why he lived in a closet,” Charles laughed.
    â€œNo, no. Listen, I think he lived that way in an attempt to be inconspicuous,” said Samuel, wondering if he really wanted to subject himself to the grilling he was going to get from his pompous friend just to get him to look at some records.
    â€œWhat kind of proof do you have for that?” asked Charles.
    â€œHe had expensive taste. Those tuxes cost a lot of money and his were of the best quality. If he could afford clothes like that, why would he live in a closet?”
    â€œMaybe he was crazy.”
    â€œI knew him well, and I can assure you he wasn’t crazy. “So your idea is he was getting his money illegally? Like he was blackmailing someone? Why would the federal government be interested in that?” asked Charles.
    â€œI don’t know yet. But you’re the only person I know who has the power to look into this guy’s finances. If we find something and the feds aren’t involved, you can turn the whole case over to the district attorney, and you’ll look like a hero,” said Samuel.
    â€œThat’s a pretty slim thread, ol’ buddy. But I tell you what, I’m willing to give two days of my valuable time to this matter. Meet me here tomorrow at ten o’clock. Make sure you have a list of banks or other establishments where you think he could have hidden the money. I’ll help you trace it with the subpoena power of the federal government.”
    * * *
    Samuel went to Camelot later that afternoon to consult with Melba. He explained how he was going to meet his friend at the U. S. attorney’s the next day and he wanted guidance.
    She laughed. “In B movies of the ’40s, it was always ‘look for the dame’,” she said, smiling slightly.
    Excalibur trotted up, limping, to investigate, and Samuel made a face of displeasure.
    â€œThis dog will end up chasing your clients away.”
    â€œOn the contrary, they all spoil him. Do you know he has the nose of a bloodhound? He can follow any scent.”
    â€œVery useful,” said Samuel.
    â€œOf course it’s useful. Be patient, he’ll get used to you and end up being your best friend. Have you noticed that he doesn’t growl at you anymore?”
    â€œStay alert. That’s a sign of interest. Come here, ferocious warrior; sit by Mama,” she called softly. Excalibur plopped down beside her chair.
    â€œHave you gone over this guy’s possessions, looking for where he could’ve hid the