No Business of Mine

Chapter Twenty

I returned to the Savoy the following morning soon after eleven o’clock. As I asked the clerk at the Inquiry Desk for my key, I felt a hand touch my arm. I took the key, glanced around.

Corridan, looking very massive and dour, was standing at my side.

“Well, well,” I said, with what I hoped was a friendly smile. “My old pal again, always turning up like Boris Karloff. What brings you here? Lost your way?”

He shook his head. His eyes were frosty, his mouth set in a hard line. “I want to talk to you, Harmas,” he said. “Shall we go to your room?”

“Let’s go to the bar,” I returned. “It’s just on opening time. You look as if I need a drink.”

“I think we’ll go to your room.”

“Well, if you insist. Come along then. You don’t look your usual sunny self. What’s troubling you? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love, or is it indigestion?”

“This isn’t a joking matter,” he returned, walking with me to the elevator.

“That’s the usual trouble with you,” I said. “You haven’t a sense of humour.”

We entered the elevator, rode up to the second floor.

“If you did have a sense of humour you’d be a truly great man. Take me for example,” I said, as we walked along the corridor to my room. “Where should I be if I couldn’t crack a gag now and then? I’ll tell you. I’d be in the depths of despair. And why? Because I’d think you were going to arrest me.”

He shot me a sharp look. “What makes you say that?” he demanded, pausing outside my door while I unlocked it.

“You have the appearance of a well-meaning flatfoot about to make an arrest,” I returned. “Only you’re going to be disappointed.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said, entered the room, took off his hat, faced me.

I noted the livid bruise on his temple where I had hit him with the table leg, hoped he hadn’t any proof to connect me with the assault.

“Hello, hello,” I said, eyeing him. “My turn to gloat now. How did you get that bruise? Trying to beat your head against a brick wall, I suppose.”

“We’ll cut out this fooling if you please,” Corridan said. I had never seen him so serious before. “Where were you last night?”

Here it comes, I thought, and wandered over to where I kept a bottle of whisky.

“That is no business of yours,” I returned gently. “Have a drink?” I unscrewed the cap, poured whisky into a glass.

He shook his head. “It is my business, and you’d better realize that this is a very serious matter for you.”

I sipped the whisky, eyed him.

“Now I wonder what’s got into your head, Corridan?” I asked. “In other words, what the hell’s biting you?”

“Ever heard of Henry Littlejohns?”

I nodded. “Sure. He’s a private dick. Why?”

“You employed him, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes. I still employ him for that matter. What’s it to do with you?”

“Quite a lot. He was murdered last night.”

I gave what I hoped was a surprised start, put down my whisky, said, “Murdered? Good God! Littlejohns murdered?”

It wasn’t particularly convincing, and I could see it didn’t convince Corridan.

“I warned you, Harmas, the next time you were connected with a murder it was going to be unpleasant for you. Well, you know what to expect, don’t you?”

“Now don’t let’s forsake our sense of humour,” I said. “You can’t scare me, Corridan, or can you? I’ve nothing to do with Littlejohns’ death, and you know it.”

“I think you have,” he said, watching me closely.

I stared at him, and experienced a little difficulty in meeting his penetrating eyes.

“Now wait a minute. You aren’t serious about this?” I asked, managed a laugh. It sounded pretty ghastly even to me, so I cut it out. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” Corridan replied. “I’d advise you to be serious about this, too.”

“All right, let’s be serious. Suppose you explain what you’re talking about?”

“When did you last see Netta Scott?” he shot at me.

I wasn’t quite prepared for that one, and hesitated. He was quick to spot that, and I saw his face tighten.

“I guess it must have been two years ago,” I said slowly.

“You didn’t see her last night?”

“Last night?” I repeated. “You crazy or something? She’s been dead a week. Or do you mean you’ve found her body?” He wandered to the armchair, sat down.

“Look, Harmas, this won’t do,” he said quietly. “We both know that Netta’s alive.”

I looked down at my hands, saw they weren’t too steady, shoved them in my trouser pockets.

“I haven’t seen Netta for two years,” I said steadily.

He studied me, nodded. “Where were you last night?”

“That’s something I can’t very well tell you,” I said, looking away. “It involves a question of honour.”

Corridan controlled his temper with an effort. “Look, Harmas, if you don’t tell me where you were last night, I’ll have no alternative but to take you to the station. I don’t want to be official about this, but if you’re going to act the fool and lie to me I damn well will be!”

“You’re not seriously suggesting that I killed Littlejohns, are you?” I asked, staring at him.

“If you want me to caution you, and make this official, I will,” Corridan said. “At the moment I’m treating you like a friend. If you can convince me that you couldn’t possibly have been on the scene of the crime, then-I shall be satisfied. If you can’t convince me, I’m going to arrest you.”

I sat down, pretended to be shocked.

“Well, if it’s like that,” I said, “I suppose I’ll have to tell you. I was with Crystal Godwin.”

His face hardened. “Oh, were you? What time did you meet her and what time did you leave her?”

I considered the question, said, “I picked her up outside the Blue Club at — now, what time was it? — at ten-ten. I remember looking at my watch when she turned up. We’d arranged to meet at ten, and I was impatient because she was late. Then we went on to her flat.”

“What time did you leave?” Corridan snapped.

“Now this puts me in a difficult position. Strictly between you and me, I left this morning.”

He studied me for an uncomfortable moment. “A very obvious alibi, Harmas. That girl would tell any lie to save your skin.”

“I believe she would,” I returned, hoisting a stiff smile to my face. “After all, I did give her six pairs of silk stockings. I’d expect her to repay me somehow. All the same, Corridan, it’s an alibi. If you think your old pal would tell a lie like that, then I’m sorry. I’m more than that — I’m hurt.”

“We’ll see about that,” Corridan returned grimly. “I might be able to shake that young woman. It’s not the first time I’ve persuaded someone against perjury. Perhaps I’ll succeed again.”

I hoped that Crystal had more backbone than I thought she had, mentally crossed my fingers.

“Well, if you don’t believe me,” I said, shrugging, “you’d better talk to Miss Godwin. She’ll convince you even if I don’t. Look me up after you’ve seen her and apologize nicely. It’ll cost you a bottle of champagne.”

“I don’t think it will,” Corridan said, leaning back in the chair. “You once said Netta Scott’s favourite perfume was lilac,” he went on, changing the subject abruptly. “Do you remember?”

“Did I?” I said. “I say a lot of things and don’t mean half of them. Why bring Netta’s perfume into this sordid topic?”

“There was a strong smell of lilac in the flat where Littlejohns was murdered,” Corridan returned. “You know, Harmas, you’d be advised to tell the truth. We know for certain that Netta Scott’s alive. We’re looking for her now, and it won’t be long before we catch her. We know she’s connected with the Allenby robbery, that she was present when her sister was murdered, and that makes her an accessory. We know too that she was in the flat when Littlejohns was murdered.”

I raised my eyebrows, didn’t say anything, but I was badly shaken. I’d thought Corridan had been running around in circles, but it now seemed that he knew as much as I did about this case.

“What do you know about a yellow and black Bentley?” he suddenly shot at me.

He’d got that from Merryweather, I decided, lifted my shoulders.

“Only that Littlejohns reported that it was seen outside the cottage at Lakeham. Why?”

“We’re looking for the car,” Corridan said. “The owner we think is connected with Anne’s murder. Do you know where the car is?”

I hesitated, then decided it’d be too dangerous to tell him about Peter French. I could have only got the information from Netta, and it was the kind of trap he’d’ve liked to see me walk into.

“No idea,” I said.

He grunted. “I think, Harmas, you are behaving like a blind fool,” he said. “You’re trying to protect Netta Scott because you and she were lovers in the past. I’m sure you were trying to protect her last night when Littlejohns surprised you both. And what is more, you hit him, and killed him. How do you like that?”

I was beginning to sweat. “I love it,” I said, with a fixed grin. “What an imagination you’ve cultivated.”

He waited hopefully to see if I was going to say anything more, then, seeing I wasn’t, went on, “This is a serious matter for you, Harmas. You could also be tied to the Kennitt murder.”

“Could I?” I said, startled.

“Yes, the motive’s there all right. You could have killed Madge Kennitt because she knew Netta Scott was alive. You were the last one to see her, and if I can find Julius Cole he might be able to tell me what happened while you and Madge were together. I only want one good witness, Harmas, and your goose is cooked.”

I finished my whisky. I felt I needed it. This had turned out far worse than I expected.

“You’d better have your head examined, Corridan,” I said, a little feverishly. “You’ve been working too hard or something.”

“Don’t worry about my head,” Corridan returned coldly. “You’d better start worrying about your neck. Ever since you arrived in this country you’ve been mixed up in murder. I warned you to mind your own business, now perhaps you wish you had.”

“And to think we called each other by our Christian names, and you ate the food I paid for,” I said, shaking my head. “Well, my mother always told me not to trust a policeman. Go ahead, Corridan, and try to hang something on me. I don’t think you’ll succeed, but you can try. The trouble with the British law is that the onus is on you to prove me guilty, not for me to prove myself innocent. Until you have a few reliable witnesses I don’t think you should get too inflated with your cock-eyed theories.”

He got to his feet, turned to the door. “When I lay my hands on Netta Scott and Julius Cole I shall have all the witnesses I want,” he said quietly. “Those two, I think, will talk fast enough for me to get my hands on you. Don’t forget I haven’t yet failed to solve a murder case.”

“The exception always proves the rule,” I said hopefully. “Maybe you’re heading for your first great failure.”

He took from his pocket a small cardboard box. I recognized it immediately. It was the box I’d borrowed from Crystal the previous night, and in which I had sent Corridan the four diamond rings I’d taken from Bradley. The rings had worried me. If they weren’t connected with the Jacobi case, I was on a spot. I had decided to send them to Corridan anonymously in the hope he would identify them.

“Seen this before?” he asked abruptly.

I shook my head. “Don’t tell me one of your fans has sent you a present?”

He opened the box, shook the four rings into the palm of his hand.

“Or these?”

Again I shook my head. “No, what are they? Part of Jacobi’s loot?”

He looked sharply at me. “What makes you think that?”

“I still have my Ouija board,” I said, smiling. “You’d be surprised at the surprises it gives me.”

“They’re not part of Jacobi’s loot,” he returned, fixing me with a hard look. “They came to me anonymously through the post this morning. Did you send them?”

“Me?” I repeated, blank. “My dear Corridan, as much as I like you, I think I should be able to resist sending you four diamond rings.”

“You’d better cut out this fooling,” Corridan said, his face growing red. “I have an idea these rings came from you.”

“Quite, quite wrong. What gives you that idea?”

“It won’t be difficult to trace them to you,” he went on, ignoring my question. “The box and wrapping will tell me what I want to know.”

“If you ask me,” I said, beginning to get worried, “some lag stole those rings, had a change of heart, and sent them to you to return to their rightful owner.”

“I thought so until we checked the rings,” Corridan returned. “But we have no record of them being stolen. Try another yarn, and make it a better one.”

“I must say you’re damned unpleasant this morning,” I said. “Suppose you try. Why should I send you diamond rings? Tell me that.”

“You might have stuck your nose into something that doesn’t concern you, found the rings, and taken them, thinking they were part of Jacobi’s loot. You had no means of checking them, so you sent them to me, knowing I’d recognize them if they belonged to Allenby. Well, they don’t. I’m now going to look for the original owner, and if I find him, I’m going to persuade him to prosecute the thief. Maybe he knows who the thief is, and if he turns out to be you, my friend, I’ll do my best to get you a stretch.” He turned on his heel and stamped out.

I drank my whisky at a gulp, blotted my brow. And I thought Corridan didn’t know his business! If Bradley talked it looked as if I was going to be in a nice jam. The first thing to do was to warn Crystal to be prepared when Corridan produced the box. Since it was her box, he might easily shake her if she wasn’t forewarned. I called her number, explained what had happened.

“He’s on his way right over,” I said. “And he’ll spring that box on you. Look out for it.”

“Leave him to me, precious,” Crystal said. “All my life I’ve wanted to be grilled by the police. I’ll handle him.”

“Well, don’t be too sure of yourself,” I warned her. “That guy’s nobody’s fool.”

“Nor am I,” she returned, “only over you. Did you enjoy yourself last night?” she added coyly.

“Enjoy is an understatement,” I returned, grinning. “It was an experience that’s marked me for life. I’ll be back for an encore in a little while.”

I hung up, lit a cigarette, brooded. I’d have to watch my step now. Corridan was after my blood, and if he couldn’t hang a murder rap on me, he might easily get me a stretch in jail.

I began to pace up and down. A gentle tap sounded on the door. I crossed the room, opened up, gaped.

Julius Cole stood in the doorway, his eyebrows raised, his head on one side.

“Hello, baby,” he said, moving into the room. “I want to talk to you.”