Part 3 (1/2)

”Nothing to it.”

”Oh,” Malone said.

”There's this red Cadillac,” Burris said. ”It was stolen from a party in Connecticut, out near Danbury, and it showed up in New York City.

Now, the car's crossed a state line.”

”That puts it in our jurisdiction,” Malone said, feeling obvious.

”Right,” Burris said. ”Right on the nose.”

”But the New York office--”

”Naturally, they're in charge of everything,” Burris said. ”But I'm sending you out as sort of a special observer. Just keep your eyes open, and nose around and let me know what's happening.”

”Keep my eyes and nose what?” Malone said.

”Open,” Burris said. ”And let me know about it.”

Malone tried to picture himself with his eyes and nose open, and decided he didn't look very attractive that way. Well, it was only a figure of speech or something. He didn't have to think about it.

It really made a very ugly picture.

”But why a special observer?” he said after a second. Burris could read the reports from the New York office, and probably get more facts than any single agent could find out just wandering around a strange city. It sounded as if there were something, Malone told himself, just a tiny shade rotten in Denmark. It sounded as if there were going to be something in the nice easy a.s.signment he was getting that would make him wish he'd gone lion hunting in Darkest Africa instead.

And then again, maybe he was wrong. He stood at ease and waited to find out.

”Well,” Burris said, ”it is just a routine case. Just like I said. But there seems to be something a little bit odd about it.”

”I see,” Malone said with a sinking feeling.

”Here's what happened,” Burris said hurriedly, as if he were afraid Malone was going to change his mind and refuse the a.s.signment. ”This red Cadillac I told you about was reported stolen from Danbury. Three days later, it turned up in New York City--parked smack across the street from a precinct police station. Of course it took them a while to wake up, but one of the officers happened to notice the routine report on stolen cars in the area, and he decided to go across the street and check the license number on the car. Then something funny happened.”

”Something funny?” Malone asked. He doubted that, whatever it was, it was going to make him laugh. But he kept his face a careful, receptive blank.

”That's right,” Burris said. ”Now, if you're going to understand what happened, you've got to get the whole picture.”

”Sure,” Malone said.

”Only that isn't what I mean,” Burris added suddenly.

Malone blinked. ”_What_ isn't what you mean?” he said.

”Understanding what happened,” Burris said. ”That's the trouble. You won't understand what happened. I don't understand it, and neither does anybody else. So what do you think about it?”

”Think about what?” Malone said.

”About what I've been telling you,” Burris snapped. ”This car.”

Malone took a deep breath. ”Well,” he said, ”this officer went over to check the license plate. It seems like the right thing to do. It's just what I'd have done myself.”

”Sure you would,” Burris said. ”Anybody would. But listen to me.”