“The city has its quota of Doctor Lindquists, too, I fear. He was brought up in a small Middle-West bailiwick—French and Magyar extraction; took his M.D. from the Ohio State Medical, practised in Chicago—some shady business there, but never convicted; came to Albany and got in on the X-ray-machine craze; invented a breast-pump and formed a stock company—made a small fortune out of it; went to Vienna for two years——”
“Ah, the Freudian motif!”
“—returned to New York, and opened a private sanitarium; charged outrageous prices, and thereby endeared himself to the nouveau riche. Has been at the endearing process ever since. Was defendant in a breach-of-promise suit some years ago, but the case was settled out of court. He’s not married.”
“He wouldn’t be,” commented Vance. “Such gentry never are. . . . Interestin’ summary, though—yes, decidedly interestin’. I’m tempted to develop a psychoneurosis and let Ambroise treat me. I do so want to know him better. And where—oh, where—was this egregious healer at the moment of our erring sister’s demise? Ah, who can tell, my Markham: who knows—who knows?”
“In any event, I don’t think he was murdering any one.”
“You’re so prejudicial!” said Vance. “But let us move reluctantly on.—What’s your portrait parlé of Cleaver? The fact that he’s familiarly called Pop is helpful as a starter. You simply couldn’t imagine Beethoven being called Shorty, or Bismarck being referred to as Snookums.”
“Cleaver has been a politician most of his life—a Tammany Hall ‘regular.’ Was a ward-boss at twenty-five; ran a Democratic club of some kind in Brooklyn for a time; was an alderman for two terms, and practised general law. Was appointed Tax Commissioner; left politics, and raised a small racing-stable. Later secured an illegal gambling concession at Saratoga; and now operates a pool-room in Jersey City. He’s what you might call a professional sport. Loves his liquor.”
“No marriages?”
“None on the records.—But see here: Cleaver’s out of it. He was ticketed in Boonton that night at half past eleven.”
“Is that, by any chance, the water-tight alibi you mentioned a moment ago?”