1949 - You're Lonely When You Dead (10 page)

He stared at me for a long minute.

‘Why, you’re crazy!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve never set eyes on the girl, and besides, I was out of town last night. I’ve just got back.’

‘Kerman and I exchanged glances.

‘Where were you?’

‘Los Angeles. I left here at five o’clock yesterday evening by car and I’m just back. You’ll find a bag in my car if you like to look.’ He had lost a lot of his smug complacency now, and anger had given place to uneasiness.

‘Where did you spend the night?’

‘I was with a girl.’

Kerman shot his cuff and produced a pencil ‘Let’s have her name and address, pally,’ he said.

Barclay gave him a cold stare.

‘That’s likely, isn’t it?’

‘Well, there’s no harm asking,’ Kerman said, disappointed.

‘Look, Barclay,’ I put in. ‘Please yourself, but if you give us the name and address so we can check your story you’ll be putting yourself in the clear. That is if the girlfriend doesn’t mind.’

Barclay gave a sour smile.

‘What the hell!’ he said. ‘She won’t mind. Kitty Hitchens - Apartment 4834 Astoria Court.’

That seemed to be that. I intended to send Kerman to check, but I hadn’t a doubt he was speaking the truth. The address came out too pat for a lie.

‘She could always say you were with her even if you weren’t,’ I pointed out just for something to say.

‘The doorman saw me. I had a drink at the bar and the barman knows me. The elevator boy will remember me too. I often go over there. They’ll remember I didn’t leave until three o’clock this afternoon.’

‘Is she as good as all that?’ Kerman asked, interested.

Barclay glared at him.

‘But it still doesn’t explain how these clothes got into your cupboard, does it?’ I said.

‘I guess not, and I don’t believe they were there. I think you two punks were going to stick me for blackmail only you fluffed it.’

‘Mind if we go upstairs and have a look around? Her underwear and shoes are missing. I hadn’t time to look for them on my first visit.’

He stared at me, his thick fingers drumming on the table.

‘How do I know you didn’t plant them up there when you came a while ago?’

‘You don’t. You just have to be the trusting type. Let’s go up and see.’

We went up. None of us had much heart for the search, and it was pure accident that Kerman found the shoes. They were concealed at the back of the airing cupboard in the bathroom, under a pile of blankets.

‘Pretty smart,’ Barclay said, sneering. ‘Going to make anything of it?’

‘You wouldn’t be so damned cocky if we were the police,’ I said. ‘Now we’ll really take the joint to bits.’

We did, but we didn’t find Dana’s underclothes. There were another woman’s garments in one of the bedrooms: a couple of pairs of pyjamas, some stockings and an evening dress. Barclay said they belonged to a girl he once knew, but who hadn’t been around for some time. Kerman gaped at him in sheer amazement.

We trooped back to the living-room, and I put the shoes with Dana’s coat and skirt. There was a short pause while Barclay poured drinks. He handed us each a whisky and went to sit on the settee.

Although he was acting tough I could see he had been shaken by the discovery of the shoes, and his controlled uneasiness convinced me still further that he didn’t know anything about Dana’s death.

‘Where do we go from here?’ he asked, after he had swallowed half his drink.

‘I guess this lets you out,’ I said. ‘It looks as if the clothes and shoes were planted on you.’

‘I swear they were,’ he said, seriously. ‘But who did it I can’t imagine.’

‘I can make a guess. Why not the killer? If the police had found what we’ve just found you’d be behind bars by now.’

‘I guess that’s right.’

‘The one person who can help us is Mrs. Cerf. We’ve got to find her. Any idea where she is?’

He shook his head.

‘The last time I saw her was three days ago. We had dinner together.’

‘How did you come to meet her in the first place?’

‘On the beach. She was lonely, and I happened to be around. She doesn’t have a lot of fun with Cerf.’

I eyed him stonily.

‘How long have you known her?’

‘About ten days.’ He gave a leering little grin. ‘Can I help it if they chuck themselves at me, and that’s what she did.’

‘Did you ever have trouble with her?’

‘What do you mean - trouble?’

‘Have a scene in a shop with her? Did you ever miss anything?’

He was more alert than he looked.

‘You mean she was one of those - light-fingered?’

I nodded.

‘So that’s why Cerf was having her watched! I thought he was trying to get evidence for a divorce. She did too.’

“You still haven’t answered my question.’

‘Nothing like that. I haven’t missed a thing.’

I ran my fingers through my hair.

‘She knew she was being watched? She told you so?’

‘Sure. She told me some girl was following her. That’s why I dropped her. I keep clear of divorce courts.’

‘So you dropped her?’

‘You bet I did.’

‘We have reason to believe she was being blackmailed. Did she ever say anything to you about that?’

The blank look of surprise on his face spoke for itself.

‘No. That’s a new one on me.’ He flicked the edge of his glass with his finger-nail, making it ring. ‘She did try to borrow money off me the last time we met.’

‘How much?’

He gave a sneering laugh.

‘It didn’t get as far as that. I don’t believe in lending money to married women.’

‘Did she ever mention Ralph Bannister in her conversations with you?’

‘No. Is he in this too?’

‘You know him?’

‘Well, I’ve met him. He runs L’Etoile. I go out there sometimes.’

I was getting nowhere fast.

‘Has she ever been here?’

A watchful look came into his eyes.

‘That’s none of your damned business.’

Kerman tapped him on the arm with the Indian club.

‘Don’t get shirty, pally,’ he said warningly.

‘Ever run into a guy named Caesar Mills?’ I asked.

‘You mean her chauffeur? I’ve seen him once or twice. Why bring him in?’

‘I thought he was a guard at the house.’

‘Maybe. He drives her around sometimes. I don’t know anything about him.’

‘I found a photograph of Mrs. Cerf in one of your drawers. I take it she gave it to you?’

‘Pretty picture, isn’t it?’ he said and laughed. ‘She gave it to me all right.’

‘Know when it was taken?’

‘A few years ago. She used to be in some show in Frisco. That’s before she turned mannequin. What happened to the photograph? Did you take it?’

‘Yeah; don’t expect to get it back.’

He lifted his massive shoulders.

‘I should worry. I’ve got a trunk full of pictures like that. Women are funny that way. Once you’ve seen them without their clothes . . .’

‘Well, I guess we’ll be running along,’ I broke in. I was tired of him now. Handsome homewreckers always give me a pain in the gut. I stood up. ‘If I think of anything else I want to know I’ll call in and see you again.’

‘Aren’t you going to make anything of those shoes?’ he asked, his voice casual but his eyes shifty.

‘I guess not. Consider yourself lucky.’ I picked up Dana’s clothes and shoes, jerked my head at Kerman, and we went to the front door, opened it and walked down the wooden steps. Neither of us looked back. The doves cooed at us from the gable but we didn’t look at them either. We went down the garden path, out through the gateway and down the avenue to the car.

‘I’m glad you hit him,’ Kerman said suddenly. ‘He’s the kind of heel who needs hitting hard and often.’

‘We’re no better off, Jack. Except I think we can write him off the suspect list. It brings us back to Mills again, but if Mills planted the clothes to throw suspicion on Barclay why did he come back this afternoon?’ I climbed into the car, jabbed down on the starter. ‘We’ll have to check Barclay’s alibi. We can’t afford to take his word. Will you go over and see this dame? Make the check as complete as you can.’

‘I’ll drive over tonight,’ Kerman said, suddenly enthusiastic. ‘Kitty Hitchens, eh? I once knew a redhead called Kitty. She was double jointed. Talk about acrobatics . . . ‘ He gave a deep sigh, then went on, suddenly excited, ‘Say! If this Hitchens doll fell for a sissy like Barclay how’s she going to react to me?’

‘She’ll probably call a cop,’ I said irritably. ‘For the love of God, get your mind off women, can’t you? We have a job of work to do, and so far we’re doing it damned badly.’

I pulled away from the
kerb and headed downtown fast.

T
here was a light showing through the windows of my cabin as I pulled up outside the gate. Whoever was in there wasn’t making a secret of it, so I decided it couldn’t be a burglar, but just to be on the safe side I crept up the verandah steps and peered cautiously into the room. A faint but subtle perfume wafted through the open french windows to greet me.

Miss Bolus lay on the casting couch, a magazine in one hand and glass half-full of neat Scotch in the other. A cigarette drooped from her full red lips and an irritable little frown wrinkled her brows. She wore a white taffeta evening dress with a low-cut, strapless bodice that set off her golden-tanned shoulders and swept in a full skirt to her brocaded satin shoes.

Not quite sure if what I saw was an illusion, I stood in the doorway and gaped at her. She looked up, dropped the magazine on to the floor and gave me a brief, disinterested nod of her head.

‘I thought you were never coming,’ she said petulantly. ‘I’ve been waiting hours.’

‘If I had known you were here I would have hurried,’ I said, coming into the room. ‘What goes on?’

‘You’d better hurry,’ she said. ‘We’re going out.’

‘We are? Where?’

‘Where do you think? I have found the Packard.’

‘At L’Etoile?’

‘That’s where you told me to look for it, isn’t it? It was with a lot of other cars in the rear garage.’

‘And you found it - just like that?’ I reached for the whisky bottle, poured a drink and sat down on the edge of the couch. ‘Any trouble?’

‘Don’t sit on my dress you oaf,’ she said crossly. ‘Of course I didn’t have any trouble. I just talked to one of the mechanics.’ She looked at me out of the corners of her chinky eyes. ‘Men find it easy to talk to me.’

‘I can believe that. You didn’t give anything away?’

‘No.’ She drained her glass, set it on the floor and lay back against the cushions. She was easily the most ravishing-looking girl I had ever seen.

‘Well, that’s fine,’ I said. ‘And you’ll take me out there now?’

“Yes. I may have seen all there is to see, but you never know. You’d better change.’ She sat up and lowered her feet to the floor. ‘Did you see Barclay?’

‘I saw him, but there’s nothing there. He has an alibi for the time of the shooting. My only hope now is Anita Cerf.’

‘Well, you may find her tonight. Go and get changed.’

I went and changed. While I was adjusting my tie, Miss Bolus pushed open my bedroom door and leaned against the door frame.

‘Have you a gun?’ she asked.

I looked over my shoulder and stared at her, then shook my head.

‘Do you think I’ll need one?’

“You might. There were some tough boys about that place. I expect they’re still there. It depends if you’re looking for trouble or not. If you are you’ll need a gun.’

‘I never look for trouble; besides I don’t own a gun. What sort of joint is this? I’ve always heard it’s a luxury night club.’

‘So it is, but there’s a lot of heavy gambling going on there, and every member has to vouch for his or her guest. Bannister is hard boiled. He has a couple of muscle men to take care of snoopers. I’m just warning you. You won’t be able to do what you like there.’

‘Well, I can always try,’ I said, and touched the sides of my hair with brushes. I counted my money, slid the small change into my pockets and decided I was ready. ‘Let’s go. Did I tell you you look good enough to eat?’

‘Is that the best you can do?’ she asked, and looked at me from under her eyelashes.

‘Why, no. I wasn’t trying.’ I moved closer. ‘Do you want me to try?’

She lifted her elegant shoulders and drifted out of reach.

‘Save it for a rainy afternoon.’

I watched her wander across the sitting room to the verandah doors. I don’t know when the room had looked more glamorous. I turned off the lights and followed her down the path to the car.

As she settled beside me in the bucket seat, I said, ‘Caesar Mills was out at Barclay’s place this afternoon, having a look round.’

She tilted her chin and I felt her stiffen.

‘I’m not interested in Caesar Mills,’ she said in a cold, flat voice.

‘Maybe not, but I have a feeling you know a lot more about him than you’ve told me. How about opening up?’

She took a cigarette-case from her evening bag, lit a cigarette and kept her tilted chin pointing to the pool of light made by the headlamps of the car.

‘I’m not talking about Mills,’ she said emphatically. ‘I told you - he doesn’t interest me.’

‘I was under the impression you and I had an account to square with him. Isn’t that why you’ve joined up with me?’

‘No, it isn’t. I wouldn’t need your help or anyone else’s to get even with Mills. I can take that little rat any time I want.’

‘Well, okay, if we don’t talk about Mills, let’s talk about you.’ I swung the car on to Orchid Boulevard and trod on the gas. ‘What lies behind the sultry look in your eyes?’

She made an impatient movement, sank further down in the seat and said nothing.

‘Don’t be so hard to get,’ I said, glancing at the shadowy outline of her tilted chin. ‘What’s your story? I’m burning up with curiosity. You appear out of nowhere, cotton on to me as if you’ve known me all your life and mix yourself up in something you say has nothing to do with you. What lies behind it all? Who are you?’

‘That’s easy,’ she said, and gave a hard, short laugh. ‘I’m nobody. The only thing about me that’s glamorous is the way I look. The rest of me comes right out of an ashcan. I was brought up the hard way, and when I say hard I mean hard. My dad did a strong-man act at the pit doors of the Gaiety Theatre in New York. He made about ten dollars a week. When I was old enough to quit school, and I was twelve when I did quit, I took the collection bag along the queue, and that’s a swell place to get your leg pinched or for a guy when he’s giving you a dime to run his paws over you. My mother went off with a bond salesman when I was three. I don’t blame her. It couldn’t be a lot of fun to be married to a sap as dumb as my dad. But he was kind, and I wouldn’t let anyone but me say a word against him. He killed himself trying to earn a living to keep me. The joke was I could have kept him and myself, and would have thought nothing of it only he wouldn’t stand for it. Maybe he thought I picked up the bruises on my legs from a woodpecker. Maybe he didn’t know about the bruises.’

I said, ‘Light me a cigarette. I’m not altogether sure I want to hear any more of this.’

She laughed again.

They never do, but you asked for it and you’ll get it. My dad died when I was fifteen. From then on I got along all right. I’m not saying it wasn’t a hard racket, nor has it been much fun, but I’ve got along.’ She lit the cigarette and pushed t into my mouth. ‘And I’ll tell you something. If you don’t want me to hate you, don’t ever offer me money, because I’ll take it, and do I hate a man who gives me money.’

‘Then why take it?’

‘I’m superstitious that way. If I ever refuse a dime I’d expect to lose a dollar.’

‘Well, I haven’t enough to make it worth your while,’ I said frowning into the night. About a couple of miles at the top of the hill I could see the lights of Fairview. I urged the car forward. ‘If you’re planning to get anything out of me, honey, you’re on the wrong horse.’

‘Don’t act dumb,’ she said acidly. ‘I’m not expecting anything from you. I can always pick up a little money when I need it. I’m a poker player, and can make enough to live on any night at L’Etoile. That’s more than my dad could do, the poor dumb sap. And another thing, don’t ever play cards with me. I can’t help cheating and I’d skin your bankroll.’

‘You’re certainly giving yourself a swell build-up. What’s the idea?’

‘You said you wanted to know what lies behind the sultry look in my eyes. I’m telling you.’

‘You certainly are.’

She glanced at me. The light from the dashboard lit up the lower part of her face. Her lips glistened red in the faint light.

‘I’ll make you a proposition,’ she said suddenly. How about giving me a bed in that lousy little cabin of yours?’

‘What was that again?’

‘I’m suggesting I live with you. The rent I’m now paying for a two-room apartment a pig would sneer at makes my flesh creep.’

‘I have only one bed,’ I pointed out.

‘Well you don’t have to be coy about that. I wouldn’t be,’ she said, and laughed. ‘You mean you don’t want me?’

‘That’s more or less the idea. It’s just that I’m used to being on my own and like it that way; nothing personal in it.’

‘That’s a new one!’ she exclaimed, and for the first time since I had met her she sounded cheerful. ‘My mistake. I’m always trying to save money. It’s a failing of mine. Forget it.’

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ll forget it. I’m beginning to wonder if you are as tough as you sound.’

‘Try me and see,’ she said.

I took her at her word and shoved on the brakes, bringing the car to a standstill by the edge of the grass verge. I twisted around in my seat and looked at her.

‘No time like the present,’ I said. ‘The last dame I passed up has been haunting my dreams. I’ll take good care you don’t.’

I slid my arm round the back of her neck and pulled her to me. She came easily enough and there was a mocking little smile in her eyes.

‘You don’t want me to live with you,’ she said gently, ‘but you don’t mind stopping the car.’

‘Let’s not go into that now,’ I said, and began to browse lightly over her upturned face. It was a lovely face, and when my mouth touched hers she gave a little sigh and relaxed into my arms. We stayed that way for a while. Kissing her was like stopping the hands of a clock. Time ceased to exist.

It wasn’t until another car went past and nearly blasted us off the road with its horn that the spell was broken. I straightened, touched my lips with a handkerchief, put my foot tenderly on the starter.

‘Remind me to take up an option on that when that rainy afternoon comes along,’ I said, and
headed once more for Fairview.’