Man on a Rope by George Harmon Coxe Page B

tipped it this way and that, one blond brow cocked and his pale eyes thoughtfully amused. Then, abruptly, he drained his glass and swung his legs down.
    â€œYes, sir,” he said. “I sure could use that dough. The trouble is, if I did stumble across those stones they wouldn’t be mine, would they? I’d be a thief to keep them, and you’d be a crook to buy stolen property.”
    Hudson licked his lips and paused, as though he did not quite know what to make of McBride’s reaction. Neither did Barry. He had an idea that, like Hudson, the big man was a gambler, with no more moral scruples than necessary to keep him out of jail. He had the manner of a man possessed of great self-confidence and a conscience seldom subject to doubts and pressure. He was not stupid, but Barry had an idea that his thinking lacked penetration.
    â€œIf you’re worried about it,” Hudson said finally, “just turn them over to Ian Lambert and let me know. Maybe,” he added with obvious sarcasm, “he’ll give you a reward.”
    He stood up with that and started from the room, Barry following and McBride grinning at them from his chair. When the door slammed behind them Hudson said:
    â€œI hope the hell he’s got them or can find them. Who does he think he’s kidding with the stolen-property crack? If he’s got ’em he’ll be around…. Let’s go see that lawyer.”
    Louis Amanti led the way into his private office, and when Barry saw the doubtful look on Lynn Sanford’s face as she glanced up from her typewriter he gave her a solemnwink. When he sat down, he noticed the transom over the closed door and knew that if she stopped banging the typewriter long enough to listen she might hear some of the conversation.
    Hudson made his speech, and by that time it was easy. Amanti’s first reaction was to frown and shift his position and straighten things on his desk that did not need straightening. When he was ready his head came up and his bespectacled dark gaze steadied.
    â€œYes,” he said. “I knew about the diamonds and I understood that Lambert had found a purchaser. But if you’re serious in this offer, I don’t know why I shouldn’t report it to the police.”
    â€œI’m serious,” Hudson said flatly, “and you can report it to the police if you want to.”
    Amanti said: “Hmm,” disapprovingly and fingered his watch chain.
    Hudson said: “If you’re going to handle the estate you’ll have the right to sell the diamonds—if they turn up. If you need anybody’s permission you can probably get it from Ian Lambert and Chris Holt.”
    â€œI have not yet been appointed administrator.”
    â€œYou haven’t got the diamonds yet either, have you?”
    â€œWhat you’re suggesting is not only highly irregular but downright improper.”
    â€œOkay,” said Hudson. “Have me arrested.”
    Amanti frowned, but when he made no attempt to terminate this interview which was so distasteful to him, Barry got the idea that he might not be as ethically pure as he seemed. He watched the lawyer rise and go round the desk to close the transom. When he had seated himself he said: “If the police locate the diamonds they will eventually turn them over to the estate.”
    â€œAfter they’ve collected taxes and duty and what have you,” Hudson said. “By that time I won’t be here.”
    â€œYes, but—” Amanti let the words trail off, took a breath, and tried again. “If we take a hypothetical case and assume that in one way or another I come into possession of the diamonds, if this should happen, is it your idea that I would sell them secretly to you?”
    â€œIt would depend on how you operate,” Hudson said bluntly. “If you did, nobody’d know it but you and me.”
    â€œBut,” said Amanti, aware at last of Barry and