The Cutthroat (Isaac Bell 10)

“Hello, Joe.” Bell stood up and shook Joseph Van Dorn’s enormous hand. “I thought I heard you come in.”

“New York told me you were here. I caught the B&O from Washington.”

“Why?”

“To determine where your investigation is going.”

Isaac Bell’s face lighted in a triumphant smile.

“It is going to town with bells on.”

“Why on the quiet?”

“I’m disguising my operators.”

“As what?”

“I’ll show you.”

Bell led Van Dorn to the table where his notebook lay open among the programs.

One by one, he pointed to the crescents with his pen.

“Here’s a smile,” he told Van Dorn.

“So?”

“Here’s a frown.”

“If you say so.”

“Mouths! Eyes!”

“Isaac!” Van Dorn exploded. “What in blue blazes are you talking about?”

“Mouths. Upturned and downcast. Eyes. Upturned and downcast—the raw ingredients.”

“OF WHAT?”

ACT THREE

BACKSTAGE

33

CINCINNATI

The Deaver brothers were getting jumpy.

“Explain, again,” Jeff demanded. “Who is Isaac Bell?”

“Mr. Bell,” said Joe Deaver, “is a Hartford, Connecticut, insurance executive who—”

“We don’t need insurance! We won’t own anything to insure if Jekyll and Hyde closes on the road.”

Jeff hadn’t shaved or left their hotel suite in days. It had fallen to Joe to go out into the world, where, as luck would have it, he had been approached by a potential savior.

“A rich Hartford, Connecticut, insurance executive who’s put together a syndicate of investors to finance shows in the theater. He’s got some cockamamie idea to produce a musical play based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. We’re invited to the Queen City Club for lunch. We don’t want to keep him waiting. Get dressed!”