“No, I don’t, Chief. But I can find out.” Morris hurried off and held brief consultations with both his clerks. When he came back he looked relieved.
“There were no small items being displayed just then,” he said. “One clerk was showing electric percolators, and the other was displaying cut glass to one customer and selling a smoking set to another one at the same time.”
James still didn’t look entirely satisfied. “Check your rings and watches and other small stuff as soon as you get a chance, Sam, and let me know if anything’s missing.”
“All right,” Morris agreed. “But I still don’t think there was anything deliberate about that fire. It must have been just a careless smoker who threw a match in the basket.”
“You didn’t see that happen, did you?” Sandy asked.
“No—and my clerks didn’t either. I asked them. We were just too busy to be looking around.”
“Sure.” James nodded. “Well, maybe we’re guessing wrong about this film business. But if we run down anything we’ll let you know.”
“Don’t forget your box, boys.” Morris hurried back to the window in the rear partition, reached a hand through, and lifted it from a shelf just inside the opening.
“How much do we owe you, Sam?” Ken asked.
Sam smiled. “Since when do I charge a good friend for a few minutes’ work?” He shook his head. “Go on—beat it. Just see if you can get it home without dropping it again.”