Man-Trap

V

My next stop was the scene of the crime. I found Fausta in the office beyond the dining room, which at the moment was only half-full, but by seven would be crammed to the walls with people eager to pay El Patio’s outrageous prices. She was seated at the desk, which always looked too large for her, frowning at a newly printed menu.

The previous evening Lancaster’s murder and the attendant excitement had dampened Fausta’s normal exuberance, but tonight she was back in usual form.

“Manny!” she cried, running around the desk, flinging herself into my arms and planting an impassioned kiss on my chin.

After this spontaneous display of affection, she pushed me away just as though I had been the aggressor, narrowed her eyes at me and lightly slapped my face.

“You rat,” she said. “Where have you been all day?”

“Did you expect me earlier?” I asked. “You know what a social whirl I whirl in. Other women expect some of my time.”

“Pooh,” she said. “No woman but me would want a man of such ugliness.” Jumping up to seat herself on the desk top, she folded her arms and regarded me like a traffic court judge. “I can give you only a few minutes. You are not the only one chased by the opposite sex. I expect a man who loves me at any moment.”

“Well, if you’ve got a date, I’ll come back later.”

But she was past me with her back to the door before I could even turn around. “Not so fast, my love. What do you want?”

“Why, I just stopped to see you, Fausta.”

“Pooh. Your heart is an adding machine, only good for adding up fees. You never come just to see me any more. You are here on business.”

“Partly,” I admitted. “But mainly to tell you to stop broadcasting the lie that you were an eyewitness to the murder.”

She looked puzzled. “Broadcasting?”

“You told Laurie Davis. I appreciate your motive was to make sure he didn’t suspect me, but you’ve got to cut it out. I don’t want to be picking bullets out of your lovely skin.”

Fausta looked interested. “You are worried about me, Manny?”

“Enough to straighten you out for good if I hear of you telling anyone else,” I said grimly. “You so much as mention you’re Day’s key witness again, and I’ll arrange to have the inspector stick you in protective custody. You want to sit in jail till we catch this killer?”

She shook her head. “You would not be so mean. And if you were, I would not tell you what I kept back from Inspector Day last night.”

“You kept something back?” I asked cautiously.

“Yes. You may have it for taking me out just once.”

I laughed with false heartiness. “You don’t have to blackmail me, Fausta. You know I’d rather take you out than do anything.”

I would too, but it only starts me wondering whether it really matters which partner has the money, and by the time I decide it does and back off the pain is likely to be as acute as that of a man suddenly pulled off the dope habit.

Fausta said, “Will you take me out tomorrow night?”

“The next night.”

“Tomorrow,” she said firmly. “Or I phone Inspector Day and tell him what I forgot.”

I gave up, as I always do. “All right. Ten o’clock.”

“Nine.”

“Nine,” I agreed. “Now give.”

The bargaining expression disappeared and she smiled. “Barney Seldon was here last night.”

I said, “Both the inspector and I already know that.”

“Be silent until I finish. He entered just after Mr. Lancaster and took a table facing his. The reason I noticed is because Barney has been paying me attention. In fact he is the man I was awaiting when you arrived.”

She paused to smile expectantly.

“I’m insanely jealous,” I growled. “Get on with it.”

“All during the meal Barney watched Mr. Lancaster. I noticed because Barney is such a handsome man, and I like to look at him. He is not ugly like you, and also he loves me more than you do.”

She looked at me inquiringly.

“No doubt,” I said.

Fausta frowned. “I also love him,” she said recklessly.

“Sure. That’s why you’re ratting on him. Listen, I love you madly and I’ll kill Barney Seldon with my bare hands if he so much as caresses your fingers. Now get on with it.”

“You do not mean it,” she said sulkily. “Mr. Lancaster finished his dinner before Barney, and left while Barney waited for dessert. His dessert was delivered just as the shot came from out front.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “You told me you had just stepped outside from the ballroom’s side door when the gun went off. How’d you manage to be two places at once?”

Without pause she said glibly, “I watched Barney up to the moment I entered the ballroom. His waiter told me what happened afterward.”

“All right,” I conceded. “Go on.”

“Barney was not at the table when his dessert was delivered.”

For a long time I looked at her. “Where was he?” I asked finally.

She shrugged. “There is a cigarette machine by the side door. A minute or two after the shot Barney returned from that direction with a package of cigarettes in his hand.”

“Could be coincidence,” I said slowly.

“Maybe. But there is also a cigarette machine in the cocktail lounge, which was much nearer Barney’s table. Also he did not open the pack, but after his dessert took a cigarette from his case, which was full.”

“So he could have stepped out the dining room’s side door, ducked across the drive in the dark, plugged Lancaster and got back in again in a matter of seconds,” I said thoughtfully. “I suppose the cops searched him, though.”

“Perhaps he threw away the gun.”

“It wasn’t found. Besides, I heard the killer, or at least somebody, run off after the shot and scoot away in a car. Barney isn’t accustomed to doing his own killing anyway. If he’s our lad, I like it better that he used the side door to signal a confederate Lancaster was leaving by the front.”

“Figure it any way you want,” Fausta said. “Just so you do not forget to come for me at nine tomorrow night.”

“You say you expect Seldon again tonight?”

“I expect him every night. Twenty miles he drives just to see me.”

“Maybe it’s the food,” I suggested. “There’s something I don’t understand. What made you stand around watching Seldon so closely?”

“I told you he is a handsome man.”

“Nuts,” I said. “You’re holding something back. If Barney is as hot after you as you say, he’d have had his eye on you too. And if he thought you had nothing better to do than stand around looking at him, he’d have had you over at his table.”

She frowned at me. “I am a very reserved woman. I do not wish Barney to know how much I admire him, so I watched him from behind one of the potted palms.”

Before I could express my opinion of this obviously barefaced lie, a knock sounded at the door, then it immediately swung open before Fausta could call an invitation to come in. Mouldy Greene entered.

I said, “Hello, Mouldy,” then quickly side-stepped when his face beamed with friendliness and he raised a friendly hand the size of a pancake griddle to bring down on my back.

“Hi yuh, Sarge?” he inquired, merely waving the hand instead of fracturing my spine with it. Then he scowled at Fausta. “Romeo Seldon just come in and took his usual table. He asked for you, but I told him you had mumps.”

Fausta said quickly, “I’ll talk to you about it later, Mouldy,” and started to shoo him out of the office.

“Wait a minute,” I said, suddenly getting an idea. “What’s your opinion of Barney Seldon, Mouldy?”

Absently brushing Fausta aside, he said, “Same as Fausta’s. He’s a jerk. She tell you about last night?”

“Yeah. How come you were watching him so closely?”

“ ’Cause he’s a jerk, see. Sometimes he don’t want to take my word for it Fausta’s busy, and starts back for the office on his own. Then I got to put my arm on him so he don’t bother her.”

Fausta stamped her foot. “You lie, Mouldy Greene! Barney Seldon is a big romance in my life. I go now to supervise his dinner with my own loving hands.”

And she went out, slamming the office door behind her.

“How about introducing me to Barney Seldon, Mouldy?”

“Sure, Sarge. If you think you can stand him.”

My meeting with Barney Seldon was not exactly a success, primarily because I don’t know how to be subtle with hoods. I can’t resist the impulse to push them around, even when they’re supposed to be big shots.

Barney Seldon was in his early thirties and looked like a movie idol. He had a wide, pale face with features like a Trojan’s and a nicely cleft chin. His shoulders didn’t require padding to make his dinner jacket look like it was supposed to look, and his waist would have suited a girl.

Apparently he had not yet ordered dinner, for he was sipping a cocktail when we went over to his table. Fausta was not in sight.

I had asked Mouldy to leave us alone and keep the waiter away until Barney and I finished our talk, so he moved off again as soon as the racketeer and I neglected to shake hands with each other.

Seldon waved me to a chair. “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Moon,” he said in a tone implying he did not care much for what he had heard. “Not as a private dick,” he added. “From Fausta.”

“She tells me about you too,” I said. “Understand we’re rivals.”

He gave me a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just an unnecessary crack,” I said. “What I wanted to talk to you about was Walter Lancaster.”

“Why?” he asked coldly.

“You were here last night, weren’t you?”

He shrugged. “So were a hundred or so other people.”

“But not all of them went out the side door just before Lancaster was shot, and came in again just after.”

His face stiffened and his big brown eyes narrowed. “Did I do that?”

“A bus boy saw you come in. Fausta doesn’t know about it, so don’t try to learn from her what bus boy.” I wasn’t sure his yen for Fausta would prevent him from taking revenge for squealing, and I didn’t want to find out.

“You’re a damn liar, Moon.”

“Mr. Moon,” I corrected.

He shrugged indifferently. “Mr. Moon, if you prefer. You’re still a damn liar. I wasn’t away from this table except to get cigarettes.”

“Why’d you have him bumped?” I asked.

For a moment he didn’t reply, and when he did his voice could have frozen ice cubes. “Just from hearing about you, I didn’t like you, Mr. Moon. Now that we’ve met, I realize my first judgment was conservative. Stay away from me and stay away from Fausta, or I’ll make you a corpse.”

I pushed back my chair, stood up and looked down at him. “Better bring your gang along to do it, Junior. I was weaned on wilder milk than you.”

He got out of his chair too, and when he started around the table, I thought he was coming after me. But he strode right on past toward the cocktail lounge.