Red Gardenias (12 page)

With them were Talmadge March, who had come with Alice, and Carmel March and Dr Woodrin. It was almost midnight, and many people in the velvet-draped room were having late suppers. The tinkle of glass, of silver, mingled with blare of unmuted trumpets bearing down on the Tommy Dorsey arrangement of "The Song of India."

Ann's excuse for accepting a date with Peter March had been that Bill Crane was too ill to go out. She wasn't sure whether any of them believed this, or felt, as Alice March obviously did, that she was paying Crane back for deserting her for the night-club singer. She didn't really care; she wanted to listen to them talk, to see if she could detect a false note in their conversation. She felt it would be impossible for the murderer not to betray himself if one were only acute enough to catch the right remark.

Over the noise of the band, Alice March said, "That singer must be very, very attractive." She smiled sweetly at Ann.

Ann thought her pink face was the kind Italian painters used to float cherubs around. She would have liked to slap it hard. She said instead, "You'll see her in a minute."

A thin sound of flutes, a weird rumble of drums marked the end of "The Song of India." There was a muffled crash of cymbals; couples returned to their tables from the floor.

Carmel said, "Don't you wish you had some of her allure, Alice?"

For an instant Alice March looked like an angry Persian cat. She didn't reply, but Talmadge came to her rescue. "I've heard she uses the same fascinating gardenia perfume Carmel does," he drawled.

Ann wondered why he was trying so hard to establish the fact Carmel used a gardenia perfume. It certainly seemed as though he was trying to implicate Carmel in the deaths. It was certainly very suspicious.

Carmel said in a brittle voice, "Perhaps Alice should use gardenia.... Maybe she could keep her man."

"You're always trying to pick a quarrel, aren't you, dear?" Alice March said sweetly.

"Well, aren't you?"

"Why, Carmel!"

"Yes, you are. Only you don't dare bring it out in the open." Carmel's dark eyes glistened. "Why don't you say what you're thinking... you and Talmadge?"

Dr Woodrin said, "Carmel! Let's don't have any silly fights."

Peter March said, "Let's go home. I don't want to see that singer again."

"Oh, but I do," Alice March said, apparently undisturbed by Carmel's outburst.

Ann wondered, as the floor show started with a chorus routine, what Carmel had meant. What were Talmadge and Alice March thinking? She felt Carmel would like to slap Alice, too. There were certainly some dark undercurrents in the March family. She decided she didn't like either Talmadge or Alice. They both had an air of conspiracy about them.

She talked to Peter March during the floor show, noticing Carmel's eyes on them at intervals. She had a good time with Peter; he was fun. He was telling her about a bicycle trip he had taken in Italy. Dr Woodrin disappeared for a while and when he came back he sat beside Ann.

"May I speak to Mrs Crane a second?" he asked Peter.

"Why, sure."

Dr Woodrin spoke softly in her ear. "This is probably a joke, but while I was out that little chorus girl, Dolly, spoke to me in the hall. She asked me to tell you to leave, that you were in danger."

"In danger?" Ann felt her heart jump. "Are you sure she meant me? What kind of danger?"

"She wouldn't say."

"I'll have to talk to her," Ann said.

The floor show was ending, and she saw Dolly Wilson in the chorus. The girl was very pale, and her eyes were frightened. She disappeared into the hall back of the orchestra.

Ann was getting up when Alice March said, "But where's the singer... Delia Young?"

Nobody knew. Ann said, "Excuse me a moment, please?" Alice said, "I'll go with you, dear." Ann said, "No, thanks."

Dolly Wilson was stepping into peach-colored panties when Ann found the dressing room. Her figure was like that of a boy, supple and thin, without hips and firm breasted. Her skin was good.

She said, wide eyed, "You shouldn't have come here."

Ann said, "You'd make a good debutante model."

She said, "Do you think so?" She blushed. "I'm not used to having women look at me," she explained.

"Have you ever thought of modeling?" Ann asked. "I think I could get you a job."

They talked, and when the other girls had gone Ann discovered Dolly had heard the bartender calling Mr Crane on Donovan's private wire. "He told Mr Crane you'd be in trouble if he didn't take you back to New York," she said.

She thought Donovan was angry at Mr Crane because of Delia Young.

"What happened to her?" Ann asked.

"She's all right. She's somewhere out in the country. I had a note from her." Dolly added with obvious pride, "She's my best friend."

"Is she with Donovan?"

"I don't know. The note didn't say. But Delia can take care of herself."

"Donovan likes her, doesn't he?"

"I think they're married," Dolly confided.

"But why did she let Bill—my husband—go up?"

"She may have liked him, but I'll bet she was using him to make Donovan jealous," Dolly said.

Ann wrote a note to Mrs Jacobson at Causeman-Mason's in New York. "She's the buyer there," she said, giving the note to Dolly. "I'm sure she can find work for you if you ever go to New York."

When she got to the table Bill Crane was there. She felt herself blushing. He had just arrived and Dr Woodrin was offering him a drink. He grinned at her and refused the drink.

"I'm on the wagon... for at least an hour," he explained.

Carmel March said, "You look as though you'd been run over by the wagon."

Ann could see she was pleased by Bill's arrival.

Bill turned to Ann. "Haven't I seen you before?"

"I'm your wife," Ann said.

"Isn't that a coincidence?" He was being very suave. "Or am I simply de trop?" Carmel said, "Please stay."

Ann could see Peter March was very embarrassed. "I think it's time to be going," he said. He looked at Bill, then turned his eyes away. "Would you like to take your wife home?" He was obviously not looking at Ann.

"Darling, will you ride with me?" Bill asked.

"I guess I'll have to," Ann said.

"I thought I was going to stay in bed," Bill explained to Peter. "But I suddenly felt better. That's how I happened to come out here."

Ann saw the others believed only part of that. They thought he'd let her go out, then sneaked out himself to see Delia Young, not knowing Ann would be at the Crimson Cat.

"I'm glad you're not sick," Peter March said.

Bill said, "Stop at my house on the way home for a drink." Ann remembered that Jameson, the real-estate man, would be at the house to look at Peter. She hoped he would accept.

He did. He was pleased to have relations pleasant. "I'd like to." He looked at the others. "That is, if..."

"You go," Dr Woodrin told Carmel. "I've got to get some sleep."

"We can't go," Alice March said, speaking for Talmadge. "I'm sorry you didn't find your Delia, Mr Crane."

"Oh, I'll find her," Bill said.

Ann slipped on her caracul coat and they said good night to the others. They found Williams in the bar. He was drinking scotch and soda. The bartender with the gold teeth scowled at Bill. "You here again, pal?" he said.

"Don't 'pal' me, pal," Bill said.

Williams said, "Donovan took it on the lam a minute after you got here, Bill." He took a long drink of the whisky. "Talmadge March tipped him off."

"The hell!" Ann saw Bill was surprised. "They're still friends, then."

Ann asked, "Did you come out here to find Delia?"

"Yeah. I think she's dead." He told her about Lefty and the phone call. "And I looked in Delia's room. It's been cleaned out"

She was shocked about Lefty. "The poor man with the funny voice!" She added, "But Delia's still alive." She told him Dolly had had a note from her. "She's all right."

"You're pretty smart," Bill said. "Somebody has to be."

"All right. All right. But you'll get in trouble, going around alone. Don't forget that mysterious phone call."

"It's not a bit mysterious."

She had to smile at Bill's face when she told him she knew who made the call. She told him what Dolly had overheard. "Just come to me when you need any information," she concluded.

Williams was amused. "Looks like you met your master, Bill."

"Darned if it doesn't." Bill turned toward the bar. "That reminds me, I owe you some champagne, Ann." He spoke to the sullen bartender. "Two bottles, Pete."

The man got two bottles out of a cabinet. Ann protested, "But I only won one." The man put the bottles on the red-lacquered bar. "Fifteen bucks," he said.

Bill put some money on the bar. "I know, only one." He took the bottle by the neck, held it up to the light.

"Make up your mind, pal," the bartender said. "One or two?"

"Oh, two, by all means," Bill said. He tapped the bartender across on the head with the bottle. It wasn't a hard blow, but the neck broke. He handed Ann the other bottle. "Here, darling." The bartender had disappeared behind the bar.

Williams paused to look over the bar. "That's a dirty trick," he complained, "wasting good champagne like that."

They went to the car and started for home. Carmel and Dr Woodrin had left, but Peter's car was still there.

Bill sighed with satisfaction. "That guy'll think twice before he calls up and threatens us again."

Ann said, "Could Talmadge March be working with Donovan?"

"I think only one guy is doing the murdering," Bill said. "You wouldn't take the chance of blackmail by having an accomplice."

Williams said, "Suppose I turn up Peter March."

"You'd have my thanks," Bill said.

Ann asked, "How could you do that?"

"It depends on Jameson," Williams said mysteriously.

Bill said, "I hope Jameson comes through."

"I think you're terrible," Ann said.

"I've got nothing special against Peter," Bill said. "I'd just like to hang him."

"No, it's me you're against. You're just trying to run Peter down because of me. I'm glad I'm not married to you."

"I'm not... "

Ann felt very angry. She interrupted him. "You're doing your best to embarrass me—letting everybody at the Crimson Cat see you were chasing that singer."

"Didn't you let everybody see you were chasing Peter March?"

They quarreled all the way home.

While Williams waited for Mr Jameson, the Brookfield real-estate man, in front of the house, Ann got ice and glasses from the pantry. Crane stretched out on the blue couch in the living room. "This feels nice," he said.

Ann said, "Bill, why do we fight all the time?"

"I guess it's my drinking."

"It's partly."

"Maybe you just don't like me."

" But I do. I like you very much."

"Would you like me more if I gave up drinking?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll give it up."

"Just don't drink so terribly much."

"No, I won't drink at all. But you have to promise to like me."

She came to the couch and touched Crane's neck with her fingers. "You're nice," she said. "I'll like you."

Her fingers were cool and soft. He tried to take hold of her hand, but she moved away from the couch. She went to a chair across the room. "What about this case, Bill?" she asked.

They tried to agree on a major suspect, but they couldn't. They decided Talmadge March had the best motives: hatred and a desire for money, but Ann said she was sure Donovan had something to do with the deaths.

"I still think he and Talmadge might be working together," she said.

"And I still think the murderer would work alone," said Crane. "He wouldn't dare have an accomplice. Too much chance for blackmail."

Ann thought, in that case, she would just suspect Talmadge. He would naturally hate John for informing Simeon March he was in the night-club business.

So would Dr Woodrin, Crane said. Probably even more, because he had lost all his money in the venture. But Crane couldn't see why the doctor would kill Richard, unless he wanted Carmel.

"He likes her," Ann admitted.

"But Carmel likes Peter."

Ann's face became guarded. "He should kill Peter next, then."

"That doesn't make much sense, killing a lot of people to make a girl you hope to marry rich."

"How about Simeon March?" Ann asked.

"Why not?" Crane wished his head would stop aching. "Don't they always pin it on the person who calls in the detectives?"

"And Alice March?"

"I always suspect people I don't like."

"You ought to suspect Peter, then."

"Don't you know I'm crazy about Peter?"

"You mean Carmel, don't you?"

A cool voice from the door asked, "What about me?"

It was Carmel March. Her black velvet dress was pulled tight about her waist by a gold belt, but below her flat hips it flared out in a soft curve. She had on long black gloves, and there was a gold bracelet below the puffed sleeve of her dress.

"You'll excuse my not standing," Crane said. "I don't think I can."

"We were just talking over the party last night," Ann said. "Bill has had a relapse."

Carmel came slowly into the room"I knew you were going to feel bad when I saw you drinking champagne with that woman."

Ann said, "He went on to laudanum."

Carmel said, "Goodness! Champagne and Laudanum?"

"Nothing like that," Crane said. "I wouldn't spoil good laudanum with champagne."

"How in the world did you get home?" Carmel asked.

"By American Express, I think."

Carmel had a nice husky laugh. "I'm upset about Alice March," she said. She sat beside Crane's knees on the couch.

"Why?"

"I want to know what to do about her." She moved her body so her thigh was against his hip. "I need your advice."

Ann said coldly, "I'll leave you two alone."

"Please don't." Carmel looked up at Ann. "I want your help, too." Her dark eyes, shaped like niggertoe nuts, were luminous. "I'm really scared. Alice has practically accused me of murder."