“I get you, Chief.” Phelps seemed pleased with the assignment, and departed with alacrity.
“Are such burglarious and eavesdropping methods considered ethical by your learned profession?” asked Vance. “I can’t harmonize such conduct with your other qualities, y’ know.”
Markham leaned back and gazed up at the chandelier.
“Personal ethics don’t enter into it. Or, if they do, they are crowded out by greater and graver considerations—by the higher demands of justice. Society must be protected; and the citizens of this county look to me for their security against the encroachments of criminals and evil-doers. Sometimes, in the pursuance of my duty, it is necessary to adopt courses of conduct that conflict with my personal instincts. I have no right to jeopardize the whole of society because of an assumed ethical obligation to an individual. . . . You understand, of course, that I would not use any information obtained by these unethical methods, unless it pointed to criminal activities on the part of that individual. And in such a case, I would have every right to use it, for the good of the community.”
“I dare say you’re right,” yawned Vance. “But society doesn’t int’rest me particularly. And I inf’nitely prefer good manners to righteousness.”
As he finished speaking Swacker announced Major Benson, who wanted to see Markham at once.
The Major was accompanied by a pretty young woman of about twenty-two with yellow bobbed hair, dressed daintily and simply in light blue crêpe de Chine. But for all her youthful and somewhat frivolous appearance, she possessed a reserve and competency of manner that immediately evoked one’s confidence.
Major Benson introduced her as his secretary, and Markham placed a chair for her facing his desk.
“Miss Hoffman has just told me something that I think is vital for you to know,” said the Major; “and I brought her directly to you.”
He seemed unusually serious, and his eyes held a look of expectancy colored with doubt.