There was a pause, then the door pushed open and a young plain-clothes man came in. He was the eager-beaver[39] type. I could see, so far, police work hadnt soured him. He looked at Retnick the way a friendly dog looks for a bone.
With an expression of distaste, as if he were introducing a poor relation, Retnick waved to me.
This is Nelson Ryan: a shamus. Take him away and keep him amused until I want him. He looked at me. This is Patterson. Hes just joined the force: dont corrupt him faster than he need be.
I went with Patterson down the corridor and into another small room that smelt of stale sweat, fear and disinfectant. I sat down by the window while Patterson, looking puzzled, squatted on the edge of a desk.
Relax, I said. Well probably be here for hours. Your boss is trying to prove I murdered a Chinese woman and he hasnt a chance to prove it.
His eyes bugged out as he stared at me.
Trying to put him at ease, I offered him the half-smoked cigar Retnick had given me. This is a museum piece. Would you like to have it for your collection? Its Retnicks. You have a museum?
His young, eager face turned to stone. He looked almost like a cop. Listen, let me tell you something. We dont like
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I said, waving my hand to cut him short. Ive heard that one before. Retnick tells it better. I stir up the dust. I get in your way. I bother you boys. Okay, so what? I make a living the same as you. Cant I kid you a little[40] or are you that sensitive?
I grinned at him, and after a moments hesitation, he relaxed and grinned back. From then on we got along fine.
Around lunch-time a cop brought us a meat pie and some beans which we ate. Patterson seemed to think the pie was pretty good, but then he was young and hungry. I toyed with mine and sent most of it back. After this so-called lunch, he got out a deck of cards and we played gin rummy for matches. After I had taken a whole box off him, I showed him how I was cheating him. This seemed to shock him until I offered to teach him how it was done. He made a very enthusiastic pupil.
Around eight oclock the same cop brought more meat pie and more beans. We ate the stuff because by now we were so goddam bored we would have eaten anything just for the hell of it. We played more gin rummy and he cheated so well he took a whole box of matches off me. Around midnight, the telephone bell rang. He picked up the receiver, listened, then said, Yes, sir, and hung up. Lieutenant Retnick is ready for you now, he said getting to his feet.
We both felt the way people feel when the train at last steams out of the station and they can stop talking the way people talk when seeing people off at a station.
We went down the corridor to Retnicks office. Retnick was sitting at his desk. He looked tired and worried. He waved me to a chair and waved Patterson away. When Patterson had gone, I sat down.
There was a long pause as we stared at each other.
Youre a lucky guy, Ryan, he said eventually. Okay, I didnt think you killed her, but I was goddam sure the D.A. would have thought so if Id turned you over to him. Now I can persuade him you didnt do it. Consider yourself a lucky son-of-a-bitch.
I had been in this building for fifteen hours. There had been times when I had wondered if I had played my cards right. I had had moments of near-panic, but now hearing what he said, I relaxed, drawing in a deep breath. So Im lucky, I said.
Yeah. He slid down in his chair and groped for a cigar. Then realising he had a dead one between his teeth, he took it out, sneered at it and dropped it into the trash-basket. Ive had practically the whole of the force working on this thing for the past fourteen hours. Weve turned up a witness who saw you in your car at two-thirty this morning on Connaught Boulevard. The witness happens to be an attorney who hates the D.A.s guts and he had his wife with him. His evidence would blow a great big hole in any case the D.A. might have cooked up against you. So, okay, you didnt kill her.
Would it be nosey to ask if you have any idea who did kill her?
He offered me his cigar case: this time I could afford to refuse. As he put the case back in his pocket, he said, Its too early yet. Whoever he is, hes played it neat. No clues: no nothing so far[41].
Didnt you get a line on the Chinese woman?
Oh, sure, that wasnt hard. There was nothing but the usual junk a woman carries in the handbag, but we got her spotted at the airport. She came from Hong Kong. Her name is Jo-An Jefferson. Believe it or not, shes the daughter-in-law of J. Wilbur Jefferson, the oil millionaire. She married the son, Herman Jefferson, in Hong Kong about a year ago. He was recently killed in a car smash and she brought his body back for burial.
Why? I asked, staring at him.
Old man Jefferson wanted his son buried in the family vault. He paid this girl to come over with the body.
Whats happened to the body?
It was picked up at the airport by a mortician at seven oclock this morning, acting on orders. Its at his parlour waiting interment.
You checked that?
He yawned, showing me half his false teeth.
Listen, shamus, you dont have to tell me my job. Ive seen the coffin and inspected the papers: everythings in order. She flew in from Hong Kong, arriving here at one-thirty. She took a taxi from the airport to your office block. What beats me is why she came to see you immediately she arrived and how her killer knew she was coming to see you. What did she want with you?
Yeah. If she was from Hong Kong, how would she know I existed? I said.
Your idea she telephoned for an appointment around seven after you had left your office is out. She was in the air at that time. If she had written, you would have known about it.
I thought for a moment.
Suppose Hardwick met her at the airport? He called me from the airport at six. Suppose he waited for her to arrive and told her he was me. Suppose he went on ahead while she was clearing the coffin through the authorities and slipped the lock on the outer door. A lock isnt too hard to slip and then waited for her to join him.
He didnt seem to like this idea much: nor did I.
But what the hell did she want with you? he demanded.
If we knew that we wouldnt be asking each other questions. How about her luggage? Did you locate it?
Yeah. She checked it in at the left-luggage office before leaving the airport: one small suitcase; nothing in it except a change of clothes, a small Buddha and some joss sticks. She certainly travelled light[42].
Have you talked to old man Jefferson yet?
He pulled a face. Yeah, Ive talked to him. He acted as if he hated my guts. I think he does. Thats the hell of marrying into an influential family. My brother-in-law and Jefferson get along like I get along with a boil on my neck.
Still it has its compensations, I said.
He fingered his pearl stick-pin.
Sometimes. Anyway, the old goat didnt let his hair down. He said he wanted me to catch the man who had killed his daughter-in-law, otherwise there would be trouble. He stroked his beaky nose. He draws a lot of water in this city.[43] He could make trouble for me.
He wasnt helpful?
He certainly wasnt.
How about the Express messenger who delivered the three hundred bucks to me? He could have seen the killer.
How about the Express messenger who delivered the three hundred bucks to me? He could have seen the killer.
Look, shamus, youre not half the ball of fire you think you are. I checked on him: nothing. But this is interesting: the envelope containing the dough was handed in at four oclock at the Express headquarters which as you know is across the way from you. None of the dim-witted clerks can remember who handed it in, but the instructions were to deliver it to you at six-fifteen.
You checked Herron Corporation to see if Hardwick works there?
Yeah. Ive checked every goddam thing. He doesnt work for them. He yawned, stretched, then stood up. Im going to bed. Maybe tomorrow Ill strike something. Right now Ive had enough of it.
I got up too. It was my gun that killed her?
Yeah. No prints: nothing on the car. Hes a neat bird, but hell make a mistake they always do.
Some of them.
He looked sleepily at me.
Ive done you a good turn[44], Ryan, you try to do me one. Any ideas you get, let me know. Right now I need ideas.
I said I wouldnt forget him. I went down to where I had left my car and drove fast back to my apartment and to my bed.
I got to the office the next morning soon after nine oclock. I found a couple of newspaper men parked outside my door. They wanted to know where I had been all yesterday. They had been trying to get to me to hear my side of the murder story and they were irate they hadnt been able to find me.
I took them into my office and told them I had spent the day at police headquarters. I said I knew no more about the murder than they did, probably less. No, I had no idea why the Chinese woman had come to my office at such an hour nor how she had got into the building. They spent half an hour shooting questions at me, but it was a waste of their time. Finally, disgruntled, they went off.
I looked through my mail and dropped most of it into the trash-basket. There was a letter from a woman living on Palma Mountain who wanted me to find the person who had poisoned her dog.
I was typing her a polite letter telling her I was too busy to help her when there came a knock on my door. I said to come in.
Jay Wayde, my next-door neighbour, came in. He looked slightly embarrassed as he came to rest a few feet from my desk.
Am I disturbing you? he asked. Its not my business really, but I wondered if they had found out who killed her.
His curiosity didnt surprise me. He was one of those brainy types who cant resist mixing themselves up with crime.
No, I said.
I dont suppose it helps, he said apologetically, but thinking about this, I remember hearing your telephone bell ring around seven oclock. It rang for some time. That was after you had left.
My telephone is always ringing, I said, but thanks. Maybe it might help. Ill tell Lieutenant Retnick.
He ran his hand over his close-cropped hair.
I just thought I mean in a murder investigation every little thing can be important until it is proved otherwise. He moved restlessly. Its an odd thing the way she got into your office, isnt it? I guess it has been a bit difficult for you.
She got into my office because the killer let her in, I said, and it hasnt been difficult for me.
Well, thats good. Did they find out who she was?
Her name is Jo-An Jefferson and shes from Hong Kong.
Jefferson? He became alert. I know a friend named Herman Jefferson who went out to Hong Kong: an old school friend.
I tilted back my chair so I could put my feet on the desk.
Sit down, I said. Tell me about Herman Jefferson. The Chinese woman was his wife.
That really shook him. He sat down and gaped at me. Hermans wife? He married a Chinese?
So it seems.
Well, Ill be damned!
I waited, watching him. He thought for a moment, then said, Not that it shocks me. Ive heard Chinese girls can be attractive, but I cant imagine his father would be pleased. He frowned, shaking his head. What was she doing here?
She brought her husbands body back for burial.
He stiffened. You mean Hermans dead?
Last week a car accident.
He seemed completely thrown off balance. He sat there, staring blankly as if he couldnt believe what he had heard.
Herman dead! Im sorry, he said at last. This will be a shock to his father.
I guess so. Did you know him well?
Well, no. We were at school together. He was a reckless fella[45]. He was always getting into trouble: fooling around with girls, driving like a madman, but I admired him. You know how kids are. I looked on him as a bit of a hero. Then later, after I had gone through college, I changed my views about him. He didnt seem to grow up. He was always drinking and getting into fights and raising general hell[46]. I dropped him. Finally, his father got tired of him and shipped him out East. That would be some five years ago. His father has interests out there. He crossed one leg over the other. So he married a Chinese girl. That certainly is surprising.
It happens, I said.
He died in a car accident? He was always getting into car smashes. I wonder he lasted as he did. He looked at me. You know to me this is damned intriguing. Why was she murdered?
Thats what the police are trying to find out.
Its a problem, isnt it? I mean, why did she come here to see you? It really is a mystery, isnt it?
I was getting a little bored with his enthusiasm.
Yeah, I said.
Through the wall, I heard a telephone bell start ringing. He got to his feet. Im neglecting my business and wasting your time, he said. If I can remember anything about Herman that I think might help, Ill let you know.
I said Id be glad and watched him leave, closing the door after him.
I sank lower in my chair and brooded over what he had told me. I was still sitting there, twenty minutes later, still brooding and still getting nowhere when the telephone bell jerked me out of my lethargy. I scooped up the receiver.
This is Mr. J. Wilbur Jeffersons secretary, a girls voice said: a nice, clear voice that was easy to listen to. Is that Mr. Ryan?
I said it was.
Mr. Jefferson would like to see you. Could you come this afternoon at three oclock?
I felt a sharp stirring of interest as I opened my date book and surveyed its blank pages. I had no appointment for three oclock this afternoon: come to that[47], I had no appointment for any day this week. Ill be there, I said.
It is the last house, facing the sea on Beach Drive, she told me. Beach View.
Ill be there.
Thank you. She hung up.
I held the receiver against my ear for a brief moment while I tried to recapture the sound of her voice. I wondered what she looked like. Her voice sounded young, but voices can be deceptive. I hung up. My morning passed without incident. I envied Jay Wayde whose telephone seemed to be constantly ringing. I could also hear the continuous clack-clack of a typewriter. He was obviously a lot busier than I, but then I had the mysterious Mr. Hardwicks three hundred dollars to keep me from starving anyway for a couple of weeks.
No one came near me, and around one oclock I went down to the Quick Snack Bar for the usual sandwich. Sparrow was busy so he couldnt bother me with questions, although I could see he was itching to be brought up to date on the murder. I left with the rush hour still in full swing[48], aware of his reproachful expression as I left without telling him anything.