“Then where did it come from?” asked Willie. He pondered the matter a moment. “By George!” he said to himself, “that stuff’s smuggled. I’ll bet a dollar to a doughnut it is. That’s why they can sell it so cheap.” He paused to consider the matter further. Another idea came into his mind. “It’s as plain as daylight,” he said to himself after a moment. “It explains everything. That’s why those women watched Roy and Mr. Robbins so closely the day we first came here for luncheon. They saw they had on uniforms something like those of the customs inspectors at the piers. They thought they might be looking for smuggled goods. That’s why those women all scooted into the shops as we came along. It was to sound a warning. And that’s why the men in that restaurant sized us up so closely. Likely they are all in the smuggling game. They thought we were spying on them. No wonder they watched us.”
Once more Willie pondered the matter. “I don’t suppose it is any news to the boss that there is smuggling going on here,” he thought, “but I don’t believe the office is doing a thing about it. They’re too busy with the booze situation. I’ll just keep my eyes open and my wits about me and maybe I can find out something the boss will like to know. This may be the very chance I am looking for.”
CHAPTER XII
THE MYSTERY OF THE WHEAT SACKS
At once Willie was afire with the idea. Here was his chance. If his suspicions were correct, there must be a great deal of stuff for sale in these little shops that had been brought into the country without paying the duty on it. One thing was certain: if duty had been paid on these articles, they could never be sold at the prices asked for them. There was absolutely no question about that. The only point in doubt was whether the goods were home-made as represented, or imported. The more Willie turned the matter over in his mind, the more certain he became that many of the pieces were of foreign make. He distinctly recalled several shops that he had visited, where there were dozens of lace pieces on view. There might be many more not in sight. But certainly it would have taken many women many weeks to make all the pieces offered in just one of these shops. Willie was certain that the women of the Armenian quarter could never have done all that work.
But it was one thing to make up his mind that the goods in question were smuggled, and quite another thing to decide how he should go about proving it. In fact, at first, Willie could see no way by which he was to get the proof. But as he considered the matter, the situation began to clarify itself. Probably there were some particular men or firms engaged in bringing the stuff into the country. If he could find who these men were, it might not be so difficult to find how they got the stuff in.
Willie fell to wondering how goods like these laces could be packed so as to deceive the customs inspectors. That seemed to be a simple thing to do. The goods could be rolled up or doubled up and hidden in almost anything that was dry and clean. It occurred to Willie that if one were to study the lists of imports one might find a clue there. If any particular Armenian merchant were making repeated importations, there might be reason for an investigation of these importations.
But when he came to try this method, he found it was anything but simple. To begin with, he did not have access to the needed records. To get access, he would have to explain why he wanted to examine the records. He had made up his mind to say nothing about his suspicions until he had something definite to go on. So he dropped the idea of examining the import lists. The idea, as he saw later, was a sound one.
For a time Willie could see no way to proceed. Then, as he was thinking the matter over one day, he suddenly remembered the handkerchief in the can of pistachio-nuts. At once the incident took on a new meaning. He had wondered, at the time, why the merchant seemed so flustered over the matter. Now he believed that he knew. The handkerchief was smuggled. Likely it had been brought into the country in the can of pistachio-nuts and the merchant had overlooked it. Here was something to work on. Here was a tangible clue. If one handkerchief was smuggled through in nut cans, why might not others be?
That evening Willie walked into the store where he had bought the pistachio-nuts. He had been in several times, and the merchant knew him. He nodded in a friendly way as Willie entered, and stepped behind the counter to serve him. Willie priced a number of things and explained that when he earned more money he would buy some of them. The merchant grinned.
“I’ll take some of these nuts,” said Willie, and he laid down a dime.