THE EXACT OPPOSITE
Erle Stanley Gardner
THERE WAS a glint of amusement in the eyes of Lester Leith as he lazily surveyed the valet, who was in reality no valet at all, but a police undercover operative sent by Sergeant Ackley to spy upon him.
“And so you don’t like fanatical East Indian priests, Scuttle?”
“No, sir,” he said. “I should hate to have them on my trail.”
Lester Leith took a cigarette from the humidor and flicked his lighter.
“Scuttle,” he said, “why the devil should Indian priests be on anyone’s trail?”
“If I were to tell you, sir, you’d think that I was trying to interest you in another crime. As a matter of fact, sir, it was a crime which caused me to voice that sentiment about East Indian priests.”
“Indeed?” said Lester Leith.
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