You’re Lonely When You’re Dead

I

The grey dawn light was showing above the line of skyscrapers as I came out of Police Headquarters. It was five-fifty-five, and I felt low enough to walk under a duck’s tail.

While the prowl boys were bringing Dana in, I had put through a call to Paula. She had asked me to go over to her place as soon as I was through with the police, and I said I would. I could tell by the sound of her voice how shocked she was, but neither of us said much. We were both aware we were talking through the police exchange board and pretty sharp ears were certain to be listening in to what we were saying.

Mifflin had asked a lot of questions, but without telling him about Cerf I couldn’t be of any help, and I didn’t tell him about Cerf. I said I had no idea why Dana had been shot and that she wasn’t working on a job for me. He went over the ground again and again, but it didn’t get him anywhere. Finally he said he would have to to talk to Brandon, Captain of Police, when he came in, and that I would hear from them during the morning. I said I’d be around and made tracks for the door. He seemed reluctant to let me go, but he hadn’t any reason to keep me there.

The policeman guarding the entrance scowled at me as I walked down the steps. There was nothing personal about it. The cops of Orchid City were picked for their meanness. I scowled right back at him and went on to the end of the street, where I picked up a taxi to take me to Paula’s apartment on Park Boulevard.

I was surprised to find her dressed, and looking as neat as a new pin when she opened the front door.

‘Come on in,’ she said. ‘I have coffee for you. I bet you need it.’

Paula was a tall, dark lovely with cold, steady brown eyes and a mouth as business-like and as hard as a rattrap. She was quick on the uptake, unruffled and easy to work with, and it says a lot for her force of character that during the years we had worked together I had never made a pass at her, although once or twice I had been tempted. Maybe it was because we had worked together during the war. She had been a cypher officer attached to the O.S.S. where I worked with the cloak-and-dagger boys. It was she who had encouraged me to launch Universal Services and had lent me money to tide me over the first six months. We had taken the rough with the smooth together for about five years. We had seen each other at our best and worst. It got so I didn’t look on her as a girl any more, not that she wasn’t attractive, she was, but we knew too much about each other to encourage a romance, and she had a way of nipping that sort of thing in the bud with a sarcastic remark that I or any other guy wouldn’t risk running into a second time. But for all that, we got along fine together.

‘Never mind the coffee,’ I said. My nerves were still jangling from the shock of finding Dana. ‘I want you to go over to Dana’s apartment. She may have left duplicate of her reports there. I’m off to see Cerf.’

‘Take it easy, Vic,’ she said calmly. ‘That’s all been taken care of. I’m just back from seeing Cerf, and Benny’s over at Dana’s place now.’

‘I might have known you would have got going,’ I said, and sat down. ‘So you went to see Cerf. Was he up?’

‘No, but he soon got up,’ she said, pouring a large cup of black coffee. She went over to the sideboard and fetched a decanter of brandy and floated a spoonful of the liquor on the coffee. That was one of her fads. She maintained black coffee was a better stimulant than whisky. ‘This is a dreadful thing, Vic. That poor kid....’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘What did Cerf say?’

‘He’s acting like a crazy man. You didn’t tell the police Dana was working for him?’

‘No. I stalled Mifflin, but I don’t know how long it’ll be before he finds out. Mifflin’s nobody’s fool. Cerf’s holding us to our guarantee, of course?’

‘Is he not!’ Paula said, pouring a second cup of coffee. ‘If we tell the police Cerf hired us to watch his wife we might just as well go out of business.’ She went through the brandy ritual and came over to sit opposite me. ‘He swears he’ll deny anything we say, and if we do talk he threatens to sue us for libel.’

‘He doesn’t care a damn that we’re heading for an accessory rap, I suppose?’

‘Of course he doesn’t.’

‘Well, we’ve given him the guarantee so we can’t go back on it. I don’t like it, Paula. That rule wasn’t intended to cover murder.’

‘Any ideas why she was killed?’

‘Nothing solid. Maybe she came upon this guy who’s blackmailing Anita and he silenced her.’

‘How was she killed?’

‘Shot through the head with a .45 at about fifteen yards range by someone who could shoot. What beats me is why he took her clothes.’ I finished the coffee, stood up and began to pace up and down. ‘We’ve got to find this killer, Paula.’

‘You mean we’re handling this on our own?’

‘You bet we are. From now on we’re not taking any other job until we’ve got this guy. When we’ve found him we’ll have to work out how we’re going to fix him without involving Cerf.’

‘Couldn’t we take Mifflin into our confidence?’ Paula asked. ‘You get on well with him. He might be prepared to keep Cerf under cover.’

‘Not a hope. He would have to report to Brandon, and you know how Brandon loves us. No. We can’t tell the police anything. They’d want to interview Mrs. Cerf. That’s something Cerf wouldn’t stand for. If he says he’ll swear he didn’t call us in, that’s what he’ll do. We have no proof that he did call us in. He hasn’t paid our fee yet, and by the look of it, he won’t. His first contact with us was by phone. All we’d get from him would be a libel suit that’d break our backs.’

‘I don’t like it, Vic. If the police find the killer and he talks we’re going to be chopped.’

‘Yeah, but I don’t see how they will find him. They have nothing to work on. We hold all the clues and that’s why we’ve got to clear up the mess. And besides we have a personal interest in this killing. No one’s going to shoot one of my operators and get away with it.’

‘What’s the first move then?’

‘I’m going to talk to Mrs. Cerf right away.’

Paula shook her head.

‘It’s not going to be that easy. She’s skipped.’

I stared at her, the flame of my lighter hovering before my cigarette.

‘She has?’

‘I asked to see her, but Cerf refused. He said he was arranging for her to leave town right away. She’s gone by now.’

‘We’ll have to find her. She knows the killer.’

‘That’s what I told Cerf. He said she knew nothing, and if we interfered with her or tried to find her we’d be answerable to him.’

‘We’ll find her all right,’ I said quietly.

‘Don’t be too sure the blackmailer is the killer, Vic,’ Paula said. ‘We have only Cerf’s word for it there is a blackmailer. She may be helping a lover.’

‘I’ll have a word with the daughter. She hasn’t any time for Anita and might be glad to talk.’

‘That’s an idea. Who else is there to work on?’

‘There’s the guy who found the handbag: Owen Leadbetter. I don’t know whether to let the police milk him and get the information from Mifflin or have a go at him myself. If Mifflin finds out we’re making inquiries he might smell a rat. Leadbetter might give us away.’

‘You’ll probably stop his mouth if you pay him,’ Paula said. To her way of thinking money could do anything.

‘Yeah. Well, I’ll try him. Then there’s this guy Barclay, been around with Anita, and according to Dana’s report they were acting like lovers. I’ll dig into his background. He may be our man for all I know.’

‘If there is a blackmailer at the bottom of this,’ Paula said, ‘I’d pick Bannister. He’s touched everything crooked since he’s been here. Why did Mrs. Cerf call on him the night before last, and what was her urgent business? If we could find that out we might get places.’

‘I’ll turn Benny on to Bannister and Kerman on to Anita,’ I said, lighting another cigarette. ‘I’ll get Kerman to dig into Anita’s background. We may turn something up to help us. I’ll go along and have a talk with Natalie Cerf.’

‘You’ll have to work fast, Vic,’ Paula said. She was quiet and calm. It took a lot to rattle her. ‘If the police find the killer before we do...’ She pulled a face.

The front-door bell rang sharply, making us both jump.

‘That’s probably the cops,’ I said, getting to my feet.

‘More likely Benny,’ Paula returned. ‘I told him to come here as soon as he was through looking Dana’s apartment over.’

She went to the front door and returned a moment later with Benny, whose usual humorous face was hard and set.

‘Can you beat it, Vic?’ he said, closing the door. ‘We’ve got to find the lug who killed her. It’s knocked me. One of the nicest kids I’ve ever worked with.’

‘Did you find anything to hook Cerf up with the killing?’ I broke in sharply.

Benny controlled his feelings.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I found her report book and the duplicates of her last report. And something else. I don’t know what to make of it. It can’t be hers. I found it under her mattress,’ and he fished out Anita Cerf’s diamond necklace from his pocket and dangled it before us.

II

Benny and I went over to Finnegan’s bar for breakfast. Although it was only a few minutes after seven-thirty, Kerman was already there, impatiently awaiting us.

As we sat down at the table, Finnegan, a great lump of a man, his face battered and scarred from innumerable fights in his logging-camp days, came out from behind the bar and joined us.

‘Bad business, Mr. Malloy,’ he said, leaning over to wipe the tabletop. ‘I’ve only just seen the paper. We’ll miss her. You got any idea who did it?’

‘No, Pat, but we’re going to find out,’ I said. ‘Let’s have some ham and eggs and a lot of coffee. We have work to do.’

‘Sure,’ he said. His shoulder muscles bulged under his grey flannel shirt, straining the seams. ‘If there’s anything I can do...’

‘Thanks. If there is I’ll let you know.’

When he had gone into the kitchen, Kerman said impatiently, ‘What are you going to do?’

‘The three of us are going to work on this, Jack. It’s got to be played smooth and fast, and Cerf’s to be left out of it.’

‘If Brandon catches up with us it’ll be nice,’ Kerman said, shaking his head. ‘I knew this guarantee of secrecy would land us in trouble one of these days. What do we do?’

‘We have enough leads to keep us busy for a day or so. I don’t think Mifflin has a thing to work on, but he’s a lucky cop and may turn up something. We’ll have to move fast. There are a lot of odd angles to this business. The oddest is why Anita’s necklace was under Dana’s mattress.’

‘Under her mattress?’ Kerman repeated, looking over at Benny.

‘Yeah,’ Benny said. ‘I was poking around. The bed looked disturbed and I lifted up the mattress and there was the necklace. Vic says it belongs to the Cerf frail.’

‘Anita called on me last night and she was wearing it,’ I said, and went on to tell them of Anita’s visit. ‘I reckon the necklace is worth twenty grand, if not more. Ed’s going to work on that angle. We’ve got to find out how it got into Dana’s room.’ I broke off as Finnegan came over with plates of ham and eggs.

‘I’d like to send flowers, Mr. Malloy,’ he said as he set the places before us. ‘You’ll tip me the time of the funeral, won’t you?’

Thinking of Dana in terms of a funeral got me, but I knew he meant well. I said I’d tell him and wished he would go away. He began to say something else but Benny gave him a friendly shove and told him to get the hell out of it.

‘I know how you gentlemen feel,’ Finnegan said dolefully. ‘I feel that way myself. She was a fine girl.’ And he went back to the bar where he stood watching us, shaking his head from time to time and getting on our nerves.

‘I want you to check on Dana’s movements,’ I said to Benny, turning my back on Finnegan so I couldn’t see him. ‘Right up to the time she was shot. Have a word with the commissionaire at L’Etoile. He may have seen her, but don’t let on anything about Mrs. Cerf. Any idea how Dana was dressed?’

‘I checked her wardrobe while I was there,’ Benny said with his mouth full. ‘That blue coat and skirt thing she was always wearing wasn’t in the cupboard. I guess she must have had that on.’

Kerman poured himself out a cup of coffee, pushed the pot over to me.

‘What have you done with the diamonds?’ he asked.

‘I’ve locked them in the office safe for the moment. I’m going to use them as a lever to make Cerf talk. I’m seeing him this morning.’

‘What do you want me to do, Vic?’

‘Get after Leadbetter. According to Mifflin the guy’s a nut: a Peeping Tom. He may have seen more than he’s told the police. Have a go at him. If you think a little folding money will loosen him up, go ahead. I don’t care what this costs. I want results.’

‘Right,’ Kerman said. ‘I’ll see the guy, but I can’t help feeling there’s something wrong with this setup.’ He pushed his empty plate aside and lit a cigarette. ‘Up to now this Cerf frail has been blackmailed for thirty thousand bucks. That’s a lot of money, and all because she’s light-fingered. But if we accept that, and maybe if a dame can’t control her fingers she would be willing to pay that amount of dough to keep it quiet, why did the blackmailer kill Dana?’

‘Maybe he was preparing for a big take. He started off asking for five thousand, then raised the ante to ten and then fifteen. Maybe he was going to shake Anita down for some real money when Dana happened along.’

‘But why kill her?’ Kerman repeated, frowning. ‘Dana couldn’t interfere with him unless she gave Anita away. There’s no point in killing her. That’s what foxes me.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, suddenly thoughtful. ‘That’s right. I think you’ve got something there, Jack.’ I pushed back my chair, took one of Kerman’s cigarettes and lit it.’ Maybe there’s another angle to it. Look, if Barclay and Anita were lovers and Dana found out about them while checking up on the blackmail setup, Barclay might have silenced her so she shouldn’t give them away. That might make sense.’

‘But it doesn’t,’ Kerman said. ‘Why kill her? This guy Barclay has money, hasn’t he? If they meant business all Anita had to do was to get Cerf to divorce her and marry Barclay. Barclay doesn’t have to shoot Dana for that.’

‘Yeah,’ I said and stared at him, frowning.

‘We’re jumping to conclusions,’ Kerman went on. ‘Because Dana was ·watching Anita and is suddenly found murdered we assume she was shot because of something she found out in connection with Anita. The killing may have had nothing to do with the Cerfs at all.’

‘For God’s sake!’ I exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe that. Why else should she be murdered? She hadn’t an enemy in the world. Why was she out on those dunes unless she was watching Anita?’

‘What makes you so sure Anita was out there?’ Benny asked.

‘I told you. She came to see me around ten-thirty. Dana was found a mile from my place. My idea is Anita went to that spot after seeing me to meet the blackmailer. I think Dana was watching her although Anita was confident she had given her the slip. You know how Dana worked. She wasn’t easily shaken off. I think she followed Anita to her rendezvous and ran into the blackmailer who lost his head and shot her.’

‘Has it occurred to you that Anita might have shot her?’ Kerman asked.

I nodded.

‘Yeah, but I don’t favour the idea. A woman doesn’t like a gun as big as a .45. I don’t think Anita could have handled it, and besides, she’s not the killer type.’

Kerman blew out his cheeks, shook his head and shrugged.

‘Well, I haven’t seen her,’ he said. ‘All right, what else have we got? What was Dana doing with the necklace? We haven’t got around to that yet. Any ideas?’

‘Yes, but it’s only an idea. Suppose that necklace was planted in Dana’s room? Suppose someone wanted the police to know Anita had something to do with Dana’s death? Wouldn’t that be a way of doing it? The necklace could be easily traced. If Ed hadn’t found it the police would have, and they’d’ve been on to Anita fast enough as soon as they had traced it to her.’

‘That’s an idea. Natalie Cerf, huh?’

‘Maybe. It’s only an idea, but as soon as Benny told me he had found the necklace I thought of her. It smells of a plant, doesn’t it? Natalie hates Anita, and I can imagine it’d give her a bang to tie Anita to a murder rap.’

‘But she’s a cripple, isn’t she?’ Benny protested. ‘How could she get to Dana’s apartment? It’s on the fourth floor and there’s no elevator.’

‘I’m not saying she did it herself. Maybe she got someone to do it for her. It’s no more than an idea, but it’s worth thinking about. Find out, Ed, if anyone was seen entering Dana’s apartment between eleven and three last night. It can’t be before then because Anita was wearing the necklace when she called on me.’

‘If we can find that dame and persuade her to talk,’ Kerman said, ‘half our work’s done.’

I stood up.

‘I’ll have a crack at Cerf. In the meantime you see Leadbetter. He may have spotted Anita out there or even the killer. Ed, you know what to do. Get out to Dana’s apartment, but don’t start nosing around if the police are there. We’ll meet here for lunch and see how far we’ve got.’

We said so-long to Finnegan, and then went across to the parking lot for our cars.

‘It’s early yet, Vic,’ Kerman said, consulting his wristwatch. ‘You’re not going to see Cerf now, are you?’

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Paula had him out of bed at five this morning. He’ll be up and about. Besides, the less time I give him to get his second wind the easier he’ll be to handle. I’m going to sock into him this time. Paula hadn’t anything to hit him with. I have the necklace.’

‘Rather you than me,’ Benny said, getting into his vintage Ford. ‘Millionaires have a habit of hitting back. Give me a dame if I have to get tough with someone.’

‘Me too,’ Kerman said with feeling.

III

A guard lounged outside the main entrance of the Santa Rosa Estate. The big wrought-iron gates were closed, and it didn’t look as if visitors would be welcomed this day.

The guard was a middle-sized youth, very dapper in his bottle green uniform and peak cap with a glossy black chinstrap which he held between his teeth and chewed at in a bored, meditative sort of way, like a cow ruminating on the cud.

He was very blond, and his eyes were almost colourless, either a grey or a blue, you could take your choice. There was a look of studied insolence and confidence on his pale, handsome face that I didn’t like. He was around twenty-two, but experience that couldn’t have been good for him had doubled his age. There was something about him that said he had kicked around a lot in his young life, touched bottom where the dirt was, and a lot of it still clung to him. He wasn’t the kind of lad you’d expect to see playing ping-pong at the Y.M.C.A., or the type you’d introduce to your girlfriend unless you were there all the time with a shotgun within reach.

I stopped the car a couple of yards from him and let him look me over. His pale eyes missed nothing. By the way his top lip curled off his small teeth he didn’t think much of what he saw.

I cut the engine and got out of the car.

‘Can I drive in or do I have to walk?’ I asked in a let’s-get-together-and-be-friends tone of voice.

The sun glittered on his double row of chromium buttons. His patent-leather gauntlets reflected patches of white cloud. His knee boots sparkled, and I could see part of my face in the neat, square toecaps: a very bright boy this; bright and as genuine as a five-dollar diamond.

‘What’s that again, Mac?’ he said languidly. His voice sounded like a file biting on steel.

‘I said do I drive in or do I walk,’ I repeated.

He chewed his chinstrap thoughtfully, while his eyes ran over me.

‘You don’t do either,’ he said, leaning up against the wall as if the night had been a long one and had kept him busy. ‘You take it away, Mac: you and the heep.’

‘Not this morning,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I have a little business to discuss with your boss. The name’s Malloy. Snap into it, sonny, and break the news to him. He’ll see me.’

He took off one of his gauntlets, undid the flap of his top right-hand pocket and pulled out a solid gold combined cigarette case and lighter. He selected a cigarette, lit it, stowed the case away and took a drag at the cigarette, letting the smoke roll down his thin, pinched nostrils. There was a faraway look in his pale eyes, and a dreamy kind of smile on his thin mouth.

‘There’s no one home,’ he said, eyeing the distant ocean as if he was surprised to find it still there. ‘Get in your heep, Mac, and fade.’

‘Important business,’ I said as if I hadn’t heard him. ‘Tell your boss it’s either me or the police: as important as that.’

That seemed to hold him for a moment. He flicked at his cigarette with a well-manicured thumbnail. Then as he didn’t seem to get any satisfaction from that, he tapped the ground thoughtfully with the toe of his elegant boot. But that didn’t get him anywhere either.

‘The old man left about an hour ago,’ he said at last. ‘Don’t ask me where he’s gone. I don’t know. Maybe he’s going on a trip. Now be a nice guy and fade. I like a little quiet in the morning.’

I had no reason not to believe him. Anyway I could tell that nothing short of a tank and machine-gun unit would persuade him to open the gate. I would be only wasting time to argue with him.

I got back into the car and trod on the starter. He watched me make a U-turn, then as I drove away he opened one of the gates, locked it behind ‘him and disappeared into the guardhouse.

I followed the long wall of the estate until I came to a corner, then I swung the wheel, drove a few yards down the lane that led along the side of the wall so the car would be out of sight from the main entrance, cut the engine and got out.

The wall was about eight feet high. You didn’t have to be an acrobat to scale it. I swung myself up and over all in one movement and landed on soft yielding soil of a flowerbed.

It was nearing nine o’clock by now, and I didn’t have a lot of hope of running into Natalie Cerf. She hadn’t struck me as the type who dabbled her toes in the dew, but I thought while I was here I might as well have a look around. There was always a chance that Anita might be still here; it was as good a hiding place as any.

It seemed a long walk to the house. I took my time, and every so often I looked back over my shoulder. I had no great yearnings to run into the bright boy at the gate. I had a feeling he might be a difficult proposition to stop once he got started.

I passed a swimming pool big enough to hold a regatta on. It looked very wet and lonely, but that was something I couldn’t do anything about and I went on towards the house. The way was along a rubber-covered path, laid down, I suspected, for swimmers to reach the pool without bothering to put on shoes, up some steps to the esplanade that encircled the house.

Keeping out of sight behind a big rhododendron shrub I surveyed the front of the house for any signs of activity.

Row upon row of shiny glass windows stared back at me. No one looked out. The house was as quiet and as lifeless as a chorus girl at getting-up time.

I moved out of the shrubbery and on to the esplanade. On its broad, naked vastness I felt as conspicuous as a man shouting ‘Fire!’ at a firemen’s convention. There were no cars on the tarmac, no Filipino chauffeurs to sneer at me, no regal butlers to take my hat. I plucked up enough courage to walk on tiptoe the length of the esplanade to the loggia and look in.

She was sitting in her wheel chair, decked out in a blue kimono and quilted mules trimmed with ostrich feathers on her feet, a tray across her knees. She was munching buttered toast and staring blankly before her, and had that lonely, unhappy look people who are left on their own for long stretches of time get when they don’t think anyone is around.

My shadow fell across her feet. She didn’t look up immediately. A wary expression chased away her depression, her neatly made-up mouth tightened, and she put down the piece of toast. Then without moving her head, she lifted her eyelids and her eyes swivelled in my direction.

‘Hello,’ I said, taking off my hat. ‘The name’s Malloy. Remember me?’

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded and sat up, taut as a violin string, her eyes angry.

‘I looked in to see your father,’ I said, leaning against the doorway where I had a view of the esplanade in case reinforcements should come galloping up. ‘Would he be around?’

‘Did Mills let you in?’ she asked. It was extraordinary how hard her eyes were for a girl of her age.

‘Is Mills the bright boy lounging at the main entrance? The one with the pretty buttons?’

Her mouth tightened and two little spots of red showed on her thin, pale cheeks.

‘How did you get in here?’ she demanded angrily.

‘I climbed a wall,’ I told her. ‘And look, don’t let’s waste a nice morning getting cross with each other. I want to see your father.’

‘He’s not here. Will you please go away?’

‘Then perhaps I could have a word with Mrs. Cerf?’

‘She’s not here either.’

‘That’s too bad. I have a diamond necklace of hers.’

The spoon she was toying with clattered into the saucer. I saw her clench her fists.

‘Will you please go!’ she said, raising her voice and leaning forward in her chair.

‘But I want to return the necklace. It’s valuable. Can’t you tell me where I can find her?’

‘I don’t know nor do I care,’ she cried and pointed with a shaking finger towards the main entrance. ‘Now get out or I’ll have you thrown out!’

‘I don’t want to annoy you,’ I said, ‘but this is a lot more serious than you realize. Your father hired a woman operator of mine to watch Mrs. Cerf. While she was watching Mrs. Cerf she was murdered. Mrs. Cerf’snecklace was found in the girl’s room.’

She turned suddenly so I couldn’t see her face and reached for a holdall, dipped into it and produced a cigarette case and lighter. She lit a cigarette with a hand that was not too steady, keeping her face turned from me while she did so.

‘I’m not interested in Mrs. Cerf’s affairs,’ she said in a much quieter and subdued voice. ‘I told you to get out.’

‘I thought you might possibly be interested to know that the police didn’t find the necklace,’ I said casually. ‘If you’ll tell me where I can find Mrs. Cerf I’d like to put her mind at rest too.’

She looked up sharply, her face as expressionless and as white as a freshly laundered sheet. She started to say something then stopped and her eyes narrowed, and she looked like a cat that’s seen a movement and knows there’s a mouse around. I swung round on my heels.

The bright boy, Mills, was standing a few yards to the right and behind me, his black gauntlets, doubled into fists, rested lightly on his slim hips. He looked faintly amused, the way Joe Louis might have looked if a midget had socked him on the nose: full of confidence, too much confidence: the kind of confidence that made you wonder what was coming and wish you had a gun or a club instead of just your bare fists.

‘There you are, Mac,’ he said. ‘I thought I told you to fade.’

‘See him off the premises!’ Natalie snapped as imperious as a heroine in a Victorian novel. ‘And he’s never to come here again!’

Mills looked at me out of the corners of his eyes. There was a half-smirk on his thin mouth.

‘He won’t,’ he said languidly. ‘That’s one thing you can bet on. Come on, Mac. Let’s take a little walk to the gate.’

I glanced at Natalie, but she was buttering toast, no longer interested, the blank, lonely look back on her face. If they ever handed out an Oscar for a brush-off they’d give it to her without even a show of hands.

‘I don’t want to be a bore about this,’ I said to her, ‘but it would save time and trouble if you could tell me where Mrs. Cerf is to be found.’

I might just as well have addressed the Great Wall of China for all the attention she paid me.

The bright boy began to close in on me.

‘On your way, Mac,’ he said coaxingly. ‘You and me together.’

‘Now look...’ I began, but stopped short as his fist hit me in the mouth. It wasn’t what you call a heavy punch, but it was fast. I didn’t see it coming, and that should have warned me. It hurt as it was meant to hurt, but it didn’t even rock me.

‘Okay,’ I said, touching my bruised lips. ‘Let’s go down to the gate. If that’s how you feel maybe I can sublimate your repressions.’

I was so mad I didn’t even look at Natalie Cerf — I went down the steps fast. He followed me. I was sure I could take him. I was four inches taller and about twenty pounds heavier and was thirsting for his blood.

He kept his distance, and we arrived at the main entrance still two or three yards apart. At the gate I turned and waited for him. He still looked languid, and that irritated me, because guys don’t look languid when I’m going to sock them.

He moved in lightly, and I feinted with my left to bring his hands down and let go a right to his jaw that should have taken his head off his shoulders. It was a nice punch; one of my very best, and one that had never been known to fail before. It was well timed and it didn’t travel more than a foot. It wasn’t telegraphed and was a shade faster than a flash of lightning, but it missed him by a good three inches and the impetus brought me forward so all he had to do was to step in close and hit me. He slammed in five quick ones a little south of my belt with the force and speed of a rivet-gun.

I was out on my feet. My breath exploded at the back of my throat, my knees went and I stood there, trying to stand up. The right he tossed over was a languid affair. I could see it coming all the way, but I couldn’t do anything about it. It exploded on my jaw with the impact of a sledgehammer. I came out of a black wave of nausea to find myself lying flat on my back, staring up at the cottonwool clouds that floated serenely in the morning sky.

‘Don’t call again, Mac,’ a voice said a long way off. ‘We don’t like your kind around here, so spare us the visit.’

I vaguely made out the dapper figure standing over me, then something that could have been his boot smashed into my neck and I went out like a flame in the wind.

IV

There was a cop sitting astride a motor cycle when I pulled up outside my cabin. He had the resigned, bored look on his big, fleshy face of a man who expects a long wait, and is going to wait come snow, come sunshine.

When he saw me he gave a half-smirk, got off his machine, jacked it up on its rest and came over.

I had been cursing steadily all the way from the Santa Rosa Estate, and although now drained of expletives I was still mad. My neck felt as if it had been boffed by the fiat side of a battleaxe, and there was a ring of soreness around my middle that added fuel to my rage.

I was more mad at myself than I was at Mills. To have allowed a half-grown Dead End Kid to kick me around was something that hurt my pride, and when a Malloy’s pride gets hurt the Klu KIux Klan rides again.

‘And what do you want?’ I demanded, tough enough to chew a mouthful of nails. ‘I’ve got enough grief without a cop adding to it, so say your little piece and dust.’

The cop grinned sympathetically as he eyed the black and green bruise on the side of my neck. He whistled softly and shook his head.

‘What happened?’ he asked, folding his arms on the car door and leaning his weight on them. ‘Horse kick you?’

‘A horse?’ I said sarcastically. ‘Think a horse’d mark me up like this? You know that steam hammer working on the corner of Rossmore and Jefferson?’

He said he did, his eyes opening wide.

‘Well, I stuck my neck between that and the anvil and took a few whams to show me how tough I am.’

He digested this slowly. He was the kind who’d believe anything he was told, even if someone said he was handsome. But after a while, the nickel dropped, and he decided I was kidding.

‘Wise guy, huh?’ he said, grinning. ‘Well, okay. It’s your neck. The Captain wants you at Headquarters. He told me to bring you in.’

‘You go back and tell him I’ve better things to do than waste time with a buzzard like him,’ I said, preparing to get out of the car. ‘This is a snobby town, and I’ve got to be careful who I mix with.’

‘He said either to bring you in or carry you in: please yourself,’ the cop said amiably. ‘If the old man says carry you in he means I can sock you on the conk with my skull-bender. Pity to add to your bruises, Bud.’

‘He can’t talk that way to me!’ I said indignantly.

‘Funny, but he thinks he can,’ the cop returned, grinning. He seemed a good-natured, friendly guy, so I grinned back at him. ‘He only wants to have a little talk about this killing last night. Better come, Bud.’

‘Right,’ I said, and trod on the starter. ‘But one of these days I’ll meet that jerk up a dark alley and I hope I have my spiked boots on when I do.’

‘Yeah,’ the cop said, starting his engine. ‘I hope so too.’

‘And listen, Jock,’ I shouted above the roar of his engine. ‘If I’m coming, I’m coming in style, so set your siren going.’

And we went in style. It was fun driving through the crowded streets at sixty miles an hour with the cop in front blasting the traffic out of the way with his siren. We crashed every red light, beat up a good dozen motorists, turned right when it said No Right Turn, and set everyone we met gaping at us.

When we pulled up outside Police Headquarters the cop grinned at me over his shoulder.

‘Okay?’ he asked, hoisting his machine up on its rest. ‘Was that stylish enough for you?’

‘Pretty good,’ I said, getting out of the car. ‘We’ll try it again some time. I needed something like that to get rid of my bile.’

I found Mifflin in the lobby, a worried frown on his flat, red face.

‘Hello, Mike,’ I said. ‘What’s cooking?’

‘The Captain wants you,’ Mifflin said. ‘Treat him nice and smooth. He reckons you know more than you’ve told us about this killing, and he’s in a mood to tame alligators. So watch yourself.’

I followed him up the stone stairs, along a corridor to a door marked: Edwin Brandon, Captain of Police.

Mifflin tapped on the door as if it were made of eggshells, opened it and waved me in.

The room was big and airy and well furnished. There was a nice Turkey rug to cover the floor, several easy chairs, one or two reproductions of Van Gogh’s country scenes on the walls, and a big desk in the corner of the room between the two windows, one that overlooked the harbour and the other that gave on to a panorama of the business section of the city. Behind the desk sat Brandon, and just in case you didn’t know who he was and what he did there was a gold and mahogany sign on his desk facing you that read Edwin Brandon. Captain of Police.

Brandon was a man around the wrong side of fifty, short, inclined to fat, with a lot of thick hair as white as a dove’s back, and eyes that were as animated and as friendly as a couple of river-washed pebbles.

‘Sit down,’ he said, waving a fat white hand to an easy chair by the desk. ‘I thought it was time we had a little talk.’

‘Sure,’ I said, and lowered myself carefully into the chair. The muscles in my belly winced as I sat down and I winced with them.

This was the first time I had any dealings with Brandon. I’d seen him on the streets, but had never talked to him, and I looked him over as curiously as he was looking me over.

Mifflin stood by the door and stared up at the ceiling, as quiet as a corpse in a grave. It was said that Brandon was a hard man, and the detectives under him were scared of him and the patrolmen had a horror of him. Judging by Mifflin’s subdued stillness this seemed no exaggeration.

‘What do you know about this murder last night?’ Brandon began.

‘Not a thing,’ I said. ‘I was there when Mifflin found her, but that’s where it begins and ends.’

He opened his desk drawer and produced a box of cigars.

‘What do you make of it?’ he asked, peering at the cigars as if he suspected someone had been helping themselves.

‘Looks like a sex killing to me.’

He looked up to stare at me thoughtfully, then turned his attention once more to the cigar-box.

‘The medical evidence says not,’ he said. ‘No assault, no bruising, no sign of a struggle. She was stripped after she was shot.’

I watched him select a cigar, lay it on the desk and put the box away. I had an idea he wasn’t going to offer the cigar to me. I was right.

‘I understand Miss Lewis worked with you on any assignment you happened to be handling,’ he said, touching the cigar with tender fingertips. ‘Is that right?’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘So you would know a little more about her than most people?’ he went on, unpeeling the band from the cigar, frowning as if that was all he was interested in at the moment.

‘Well, I guess I know as much, but not necessarily more about her than most people.’

‘Would you say she had enemies?’

‘I guess not.’

‘A lover?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

He glanced up.

‘Would you know?’

‘Not unless she told me. She didn’t.’

‘Have you any idea why she should be out at East Beach at that time?’

‘What time would that be?’

‘As near twelve-thirty as makes no difference.’ He had removed the band now and was fumbling for a match.

‘No, I don’t know.’

‘She hadn’t been to see you, had she?’

I said she hadn’t, and by the odd look he gave me it occurred to me he was likely to groom me for the killer if I didn’t watch out.

‘But she had to pass your place to get to where she was killed, didn’t she? It seems funny she didn’t look in on you.’

‘We worked together, Captain,’ I said mildly. ‘We didn’t sleep together.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Maybe there are some guys who don’t know who they sleep with, but I do. Yeah, I’m sure about it.’

He found a match, scraped it on his shoe and lit the cigar.

‘What were you doing between eleven-thirty and twelve-thirty last night?’

‘I was asleep.’

‘You didn’t hear the shot?’

‘When I sleep, I sleep.’

He looked suspiciously at the cigar, turned it between his white, fat fingers and eased himself farther down in the swivelled chair. I had an idea he was enjoying himself.

‘Did you have any visitors last night?’

‘Sure,’ I said.

‘Who?’

‘A dame. She had nothing to do with this murder, and she’s married. Sorry, Captain, but you don’t get her name.’

‘Was she a tall blonde in a flame-coloured evening dress?’ he asked abruptly and leaned over his desk to peer at me.

I was expecting him to jump something on me, otherwise he wouldn’t have questioned me personally, so I was ready for him, but for all that I was glad most of my spare evenings were spent in playing poker for stakes I couldn’t afford. I just managed to keep my face expressionless, but only just.

‘She was a redhead,’ I said. ‘Who’s the blonde?’

He studied me thoughtfully.

‘You told Mifflin Miss Lewis wasn’t working on any particular assignment,’ he said, shooting off at a tangent. ‘Is that right?’

‘If I told Mifflin that then it’s right.’

‘Not necessarily. You might be protecting a client.’

I looked past him to admire the harbour. It looked nice in the morning sun.

‘I’m not doing that,’ I said, because he seemed to expect me to say something.

‘If I find out you are protecting a client, Malloy,’ he said, a sudden snarl in his voice. ‘I’ll slam your itsy-bitsy organization shut, and hang an accessory rap on you so fast you’d be doing time before you know you’d been tried.’

‘Well, you’ll have to find that out first, won’t you?’ I returned shortly.

He leaned forward to scowl at me. Seeing him like that I could understand why his detectives were scared of him. He looked as pleasant and as sociable as a black mamba.

‘We’re not getting anywhere with this investigation, Malloy, because you are trying to play it the smart way. But you can’t fool me. Miss Lewis was working for a client of yours and got killed. You’re covering up a killer!’

‘I didn’t say so,’ I said calmly. ‘It’s your story, and you may be stuck with it.’

Mifflin made a slight movement like a man in agony, but when Brandon swung around and glared at him, he stiffened once more into his corpse-like trance.

‘Who’s this blonde?’ Brandon went on to me. ‘She was seen at Dana Lewis’s apartment last night. Who is she?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

‘She was a rich woman, Malloy. She had on a valuable diamond necklace. I want to know who she is and what she was doing with this Lewis girl. You’d better talk.’

‘I still don’t know,’ I said, meeting his hard scrutiny.

‘Well, I think that woman is the client you’re covering up. That’s what I think.’

‘It’s a free country. You can think what you like.’

He bit on the cigar, then said in a quieter tone, ‘Now look, Malloy. Let’s put it this way. I don’t know what you make out of this racket, but it can’t be much. There are plenty of jobs a fella like you can do, and make better money. Why don’t you get wise? Tell me who this client is and put yourself in the clear. I know all about this secrecy guarantee of yours. That’s a bit of shop window dressing, and all right as far as it goes, but you didn’t intend it to cover murder. All right, if you withdraw the guarantee, maybe you’ll have to close down. So what? That would be better and safer than being caught with an accessory rap, wouldn’t it? Come on, tell me who she is and I’ll see you right.’

‘You can’t expect me to know every woman in town who wears a diamond necklace,’ I said. ‘I’ve no idea who she is. Sorry, Captain, you have the wrong angle about this.’

Brandon laid down his cigar. His face tightened and he stared at me with hot, angry eyes.

‘Is that your last word?’

‘I guess so,’ I said, easing myself out of the chair. ‘If I could help you I would, but I can’t. I have to run along now, unless there’s anything else I can do for you.’

‘You think you’re smart, don’t you?’ he said. ‘Well, we’ll see. From now on, watch your step. The next time you come in here you won’t get out so fast, and you’ll have a talk with my wrecking crew. We have lots of ways of softening up a punk like you.’

‘I guess that’s right,’ I said, drifting towards the door. ‘And there are lots of ways of getting a Captain of Police shifted out of office, Brandon. Don’t forget that.’

He looked suddenly as if he were going to rupture an artery. His face swelled up and turned a dusky crimson, and the pebbly eyes caught fire.

‘One step out of turn, Malloy, and in you come!’ he said in a strangled voice. ‘Just one step out of turn!’

‘Aw, go polish your badge!’ I said and went out, slamming the door behind me.