“If you’re right, Mr. Vance, then that lets Sperling out.” The Sergeant made even this qualified admission reluctantly; but it showed that Vance’s argument had not been without its effect on him. He turned desperately to the District Attorney. “What do you think we’d better do, sir?”
Markham was still battling against the acceptance of Vance’s theory, and he did not answer. Presently, however, he reseated himself at his desk and drummed with his fingers upon the blotter. Then, without looking up, he asked:
“Who’s in charge of the Sprigg case, Sergeant?”
“Captain Pitts. The local men at the 68th-Street Station grabbed it first; but when the news was relayed to the Bureau, Pitts and a couple of our boys went up to look into it. Pitts got back just before I came over here. Says it’s a washout. But Inspector Moran[15] told him to stay with it.”
Markham pressed the buzzer beneath the edge of his desk, and Swacker, his youthful secretary, appeared at the swinging door that led to the clerical room between the District Attorney’s private office and the main waiting-room.
“Get Inspector Moran on the wire,” he ordered.
When the connection had been made he drew the telephone toward him and spoke for several minutes. When he had replaced the receiver, he gave Heath a weary smile.
“You’re now officially handling the Sprigg case, Sergeant. Captain Pitts will be here presently, and then we’ll know where we stand.” He began looking through a pile of papers before him. “I’ve got to be convinced,” he added half-heartedly, “that Sprigg and Robin are tied up in the same sack.”
Pitts, a short, stocky man, with a lean, hard face and a black tooth-brush moustache, arrived ten minutes later. He was, I learned afterwards, one of the most competent men in the Detective Division. His specialty was “white-collar” gangsters. He shook hands with Markham and gave Heath a companionable leer. When introduced to Vance and me he focussed suspicious eyes on us and bowed grudgingly. But as he was about to turn away his expression suddenly changed.
“Mr. Philo Vance, is it?” he asked.