The Plague of Thieves Affair by Marcia Muller Read Free Book Online Page A

to save Ackermann from drowning, no matter what the impetus.”
    â€œWhat are the chances it did happen that way? Be honest now. Do you believe it’s likely?”
    The answer to that was no, and it would not have been proper to continue giving Willard what amounted to false hopes. Ackermann’s office safe had been unlocked as well as empty, and his rooms on Clay Street, which Quincannon had examined, had not been searched. The probable scenario was that the brewmaster had been forced to open the safe and then, once the formula had been pilfered, taken to the catwalk and cast into the vat. The charred note and the two thousand dollars in Lansing’s flat also testified to the likelihood that West Star was now in possession of the recipe.
    Quincannon believed in being straightforward with a client—up to a point. He said, “No, sir, I don’t,” and proceeded to explain his reasons. All, that is, except for his conviction that Caleb Lansing had been murdered; he was still not ready to confide his suspicions in that regard. He also showed Willard the burned paper with its X.J. signature.
    â€œBy God, this proves Lansing was in cahoots with West Star.”
    â€œTo our satisfaction, yes. But not from a legal standpoint.”
    â€œYou can testify as to where you found it.”
    â€œYes, but as you can see, Lansing’s name appears nowhere on what’s left of the note, nor is the remainder of its contents legally incriminating.”
    â€œBut the two thousand dollars…”
    â€œHe could have gotten it any number of ways. Gambling, for one. There is no clear-cut connection between the money and Xavier Jones or Cyrus Drinkwater.”
    Willard made a faint sound in his throat that might have been a moan. He put his face in his hands and said through splayed fingers, “So there’s nothing I can do. If West Star does have the recipe, there are no grounds for an injunction to prevent them from implementing it.”
    â€œYou still have the copy that he gave you.”
    â€œYes, in my safe-deposit box. But that was two months ago. He was always making refinements—he may have made more since then. Even if he didn’t … the competition, man, the competition.” Willard made the moaning sound again. “That damned Drinkwater. What I wouldn’t give to see the scalawag behind bars.”
    â€œThat may yet be possible,” Quincannon said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYour hands are legally tied, Mr. Willard, but mine aren’t. I may be able to prevent West Star from implementing your formula.”
    Willard lowered his hands, raised his head. “How?”
    â€œBy proving that Drinkwater and Jones are behind the theft.”
    â€œCan you do that?”
    â€œIf humanly possible, I can and will.” Quincannon’s pipe had gone out; he paused to relight it. “Do you have a key to the cellar storeroom doors?”
    â€œWhy do you ask that?”
    â€œI’ll need one to examine the area in private once the police have gone.”
    â€œBut why? Lansing’s suicide has nothing to do with West Star possessing Otto’s formula.”
    Ah, but it does. More than just a little, I’ll wager. But he said only, “It pays to be thorough, Mr. Willard. No stone left unturned. Do you have a key I can borrow?”
    Willard had one, a master key. Quincannon departed with it tucked inside his vest pocket.

 
    6
    SABINA
    Her first stop was the Montgomery Street offices of Stennett, Tyler, and Dubois, attorneys-at-law. Harold Stennett was in court, she was told, but she was granted an audience with another of the partners, Philip Dubois. Yes, he knew of the Chicago firm of Hazelton and Bean, and confirmed that Mr. Stennett had recently visited that city and had had occasion to consult with Mr. Hazelton, whom he knew from previous dealings. Dubois provided the firm’s address, but no other pertinent