Puzzle of the Blue Banderilla Read Online Free PDF Page B

poison—nothing that didn’t belong. He even squeezed the tube of toothpaste, sniffed cautiously, and touched it to the tip of his tongue. No, nothing had been planted here. Nothing but an incongruous bottle of perfume that nobody owned. He replaced everything exactly as he had found it.
    Then, as he moved toward the door, someone knocked from the outside. It was an odd, timorous knock. Piper turned out the light, waited for the knob to click …
    But there was another knock.
    Certainly this wasn’t the Mabies. On an impulse he threw off the catch and opened the door. The red-haired girl in the yellow dress, the prettiest girl on the train, stood there. Her eyes were still fiery.
    “Here!” she said, thrusting thirty dollars into his hand.

III
A Jump at the Moon
    “O H,” BLURTED THE GIRL, “I’ve made a mistake!” She reached for the money.
    Piper drew back, gazing appraisingly at the cropped red curls, hot brown eyes, bright yellow dress. “Maybe you have,” he admitted. “The question is how much of a mistake?”
    “It’s so dark in there,” she said.
    It was dark, but the inspector optimistically thought that things were growing just a bit lighter. He held the drawing-room door open invitingly. “Want to come in and wait?”
    Red hair tossed, red lips curled. “Not tonight, Josephine!” She was going to say something else, but suddenly she cocked her head like an insolent bird and stared at him. “Haven’t I seen you before? On the train coming down from New York, perhaps?”
    Oscar Piper flashed his gold badge, watched for some effect on the girl’s face. Did he imagine it, or was she swiftly withdrawing into her shell, like a startled clam? “I’ll ask all the questions,” he told her, in his best inquisitorial manner. “Who are you, what are you doing on this train, and why are you returning this money to Francis Mabie?”
    The girl gave a soft and tremulous smile. Her quick softening gave Piper the momentary impression that this was going to be duck soup. Then she spoke. “We’re below the border, aren’t we?”
    “What of it? I want to know—”
    “And isn’t there a full moon tonight?”
    The inspector didn’t care a hang if there was. He couldn’t believe, being a modest man, that this pert young thing was hinting at an assignation on the back platform in the light of the full moon.
    The soft smile flashed again. “There is a moon, so will you please go and take a running jump at it, Mr. New York Copper?” And then she turned on her heel, went hurrying away toward the front of the train. Outside sounded the mournful chant of “¡ Vamonos !”
    So she had won the round on points, eh? The inspector was close to losing his temper. “Hey, you!” he called out and rushed after the girl.
    And then the way was barred by a new addition to the passenger list, in the person of a tall blond young Mexican in a blue beret. He carried a guitar under his arm, in each hand a big bag in heavy alligator, with the heads left on and fitted with artificial eyes.
    “Damn sorry!” the youth insisted, but all the same the inspector tripped over a bag, cursed, and gave up the chase. It was hard for him to remember that below the Rio Grande his bright gold shield meant just about as much as one of the tin “Chicken Inspector” badges sold at Midwestern county fairs. The other passengers were pouring back onto the car from either end. Here was the old couple from Peoria, dragging with much ado a whole fresh pineapple big as a half-bushel basket. Hansen and Lighton, their heads together. And Adele Mabie, her arms loaded.
    It was evident that she had sought forgetfulness of the afternoon’s tragedy in the purchase of a pair of deerskin sandals, a set of crudely carved doll furniture fastened to a sheet of cardboard, three packages of Mexican burned-milk candy in round tiers of bright red boxes, two riding crops of jointed cowhorn, and a pair of large fire-opal earrings. Behind her the alderman was