“And you’re the boy to supply the wind,” Bernard growled. “Now it’s flattery, eh?”
With a laugh of acknowledgment entirely unabashed, Landis went off at a tangent. “You see, sir, I’m waiting for one of those cases where a man’s pretty sure but not quite—and where there’s not enough evidence to satisfy the grand jury. Then you’re stuck—”
“Third degree,” growled Bernard.
“Given a clever criminal with no previous record, who won’t scare, where are you? You’re not certain! And remember, sir, there’s no third degree practiced any more!” He cocked a whimsical eye at his host. “So you can’t go too far in that direction!”
Bernard puffed at his pipe. “Bluff!” he suggested. “Traps! Surprises! There’s always a way, or almost always. No matter how hard they try, guilty people can’t always act exactly as they would act if they were innocent!”
“I think I see,” nodded Landis gratefully. “When the case crops up we can dope out a way together, sir.”
This time Bernard laughed. “Is tha-at so? My lad, you’ll have to whistle pretty loud to get this hulk out of harbor. Marion and I are quite contented, thank you!”
“Wouldn’t disturb you for the world!” Landis turned. Tsu, the houseboy, stood in the doorway.
“Mistee Landis,” he intoned, “Headqualtees ling on telephone. Say you please come, chop chop!”
Landis sprang from his chair and disappeared into the hall as the Chinese stepped back. Tsu followed him.