1945 - Blonde's Requiem

by James Hadley Chase

  He stared at me, puzzled. “Why, no,” he said. “Of course, when heard Wolf had engaged an expert and was hoping to make political capital out of this dreadful affair, I had to take similar steps. But I assure you, Mr. Spewack, I won’t rest until these girls have been found or their murder has been brought to justice.”

  I eyed him thoughtfully. “It’s murder,” I said slowly. “There can be no mistake about that.” I went on to tell him about Marian French.

  He laid down his cigar when I had finished and I could see he was obviously shaken. “Who can be responsible for such a horrible crime?” he asked. “I can’t believe anyone in Cranville could deliberately murder innocent girls without any motive whatsoever. It’s unbelievable.”

  “Maybe there is a motive,” I said, flicking ash on his nice pile carpet. “That’s something I’m going to work on. Either there’s a motive or the killer’s a homicidal lunatic—a sex killer.”

  “You say this poor girl’s body has disappeared?” Esslinger asked. “But how could it? Where was it taken?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said, “but that’s another thing I’m going to find out.” I paused, then shot out: “Why did you engage Audrey Sheridan in the first place? I understand no one in Cranville ever thought she’d crack this case?”

  Just for a moment I caught a look of caution in his eyes, but it had gone almost before I could register the fact. “I don’t think I quite understand what you mean,” he said; there was a cold note in his voice.

  “I think you do, Mr. Esslinger” I said. “Audrey Sheridan’s a nice kid. I like her. I like her a lot, but she hasn’t any experience in this game. I don’t mind telling you she gummed up a number of leads I was working on because she was so keen to crack this case by herself. But this kind of a case can’t be cracked by a woman. It’s too tough. Why did you hire her?”

  A faint flush had spread over his face. He picked up his cigar, examined it, found it had gone out, and lit it. “I was confident Miss Sheridan was capable of finding the missing girls,” he said at last. “You must remember, Mr. Spewack, that there was no question at that time that the girls had been murdered.”

  I eyed him and he looked away. “Baloney!” I said, curtly. “But if you don’t want to come clean, I can’t make you—”

  “But I assure you—” he began.

  I raised my hand. “Forget it,” I said. “When I first saw you I thought you were a straight guy. But now I’m not so sure. You had a reason for putting Audrey Sheridan on this case, and it wasn’t because you thought she could find the missing girls. There was some other reason. Maybe you didn’t want them found, and by hiring Audrey you knew damn well they wouldn’t be found!”

  He sat up. “How dare you say a thing like that!” he snapped angrily.

  “Audrey Sheridan’s the owner of the only detective agency in Cranville. It was only natural that I’d go to her.”

  “Yeah?” I said, shaking my head. “There are plenty of agencies with big reputations not so far away who’d have been glad to handle this case. They wouldn’t have cost you much more than Audrey Sheridan and they’d have got a hell of a lot more results. I’m not satisfied, Mr. Esslingen.”

  He controlled himself with an effort and leaned back in his chair. “I think you’re exaggerating the position,” he said, with forced calm. “My conscience is clear that I’ve done the best with the means I had at my disposal. I’m more than willing that you should continue with the case, and if necessary I should be prepared to finance you.”

  “Okay,” I said, stubbing out my cigarette. “I still think there’s something at the back of all this, but I’m going ahead. What chances do you think you have of becoming mayor?”

  He eyed me steadily. I could see he had his nerve back and he was now on his guard. “I don’t imagine I’ll have much trouble with Wolf,” he returned, pursing his lips. “He’s not popular in town, and now you have ceased to work for him I doubt if he’ll succeed in his plan to find the girls.”

  “Is Macey likely to put up another candidate now Starkey’s out of the way?”

  He shrugged. “He might. I don’t know.”

  “Who’s the skinny guy I met outside?”

  His face clouded. “You mean Elmer? Elmer Hench? He’s my brother-in-law. He runs the business for me. I have little to do with it now. Politics take up too much of my time.”

  I stood up. “Well, I guess that’s about all, Mr. Esslinger,” I said. “From now on I’m going to get some action. You’ll be seeing me again.”

  He didn’t move. “I have every confidence in you,” he said, staring down at his snowy blotter. “I’m sure you’ll do your best.”

  “That’s one thing you can be sure of,” I said shortly, and turned to the door.

  Then I paused.

  A woman was standing in the doorway. How long she had been there I had no idea. She was tall, grey-haired, and her moist eyes had the sympathetic expression of wet stones. She wore a black silk dress that hung on her like a sack and there were jet buttons in her ears. When she spoke her voice had a hard baritone quality and sounded as if it didn’t want any nonsense. “Who is it?” she asked Max Esslinger.

  “Mr. Spewack—the New York detective,” Esslinger said, his eyes, tired and uneasy, on the woman’s face. To me, he said: “This is my wife.”

  There was no gladness or pride in his voice when he said it. The flatness of his tone, the look in his eyes, hinted of some secret despair.

  Mrs. Esslinger looked at me and she moistened her lips with the tip of a pale-pink tongue. There was something rather horrible about that tongue. It reminded me of the soft belly of a slug.

  “What do you want?” she said.

  “It’s all right,” Esslinger broke in quickly. “He’s going now. He wanted to help Miss Sheridan. Wolf doesn’t want him to work for him anymore.”

  Mrs. Esslinger’s bloodless hands folded, the fingers of her right hand holding the back of her left hand. “Audrey doesn’t need any help,” she said. “Tell him to go away.”

  “I’m going,” I said, stepping past her to the door. There was something frightening about this big, vicious-looking woman. I could see the likeness between her and her brother. They were both bony, sharp-nosed, and the bloodless, cruel mouths were identical.

  “I don’t like spies in my house,” she said, as I reached the door, “so don’t come here again.”

  I went down the passage, through the door curtained by the velvet drapes and into the reception room.

  Elmer Hench stood by the imitation ebony coffin, his long, thin, bony hands clasped in front of him and his head on one side as if he had been listening for some time.

  He followed me across the room with his eyes, but neither of us said anything.

  I opened the front door and, taking a deep breath, stepped into the sunshine and the noise of the traffic.

  * * *

  I left word with the desk clerk for Reg and Audrey to meet me at Joe’s Bar, a couple of blocks away from the hotel.

  When I got to Joe’s liar, just after seven o’clock, there were only a few customers in the place and no one in the small restaurant at the back.

  I told the barman I was going through to the restaurant and if anyone asked for me that’s where I’d be. He said, “Okay”, and I went into the back room, found a table in a corner away from the entrance and sat down.

  A waitress in a blue overall came over as soon as I’d settled. She asked if I’d like the special dinner.

  “I’m waiting for friends,” I explained. “Maybe you could get me a drink.”

  When she smiled I saw she had nice teeth, and en looking at her more closely I found she had one of those figures that make truck-drivers have accidents.

  “What would you like?” she asked, leaning over me. Her perfume made me dizzy.

  I said I’d have a large whisky straight and watched her cross the room to the bar. Her figure seemed to
run after her in excited little jerks.

  Before she came back with the whisky, Reg blew in. He grinned when he saw me and pulled out a chair. “I’m starving,” he said, flopping down. “This sleuthing gnaws at my vitals.”

  “Never mind your vitals,” I said. “Have you found anything?”

  The waitress came back before he could tell me. She said, “Hello, Pinkie,” to Reg, who turned red. She put the whisky beside me.

  I looked at Reg inquiringly. “What’ll you drink?” I asked.

  “Don’t encourage him,” the waitress said, giving Reg a patronizing smile. “I’ll get him a coke.”

  I watched her figure with interest until she was out of sight and then said: “Friend of yours?”

  He snorted. “She lives in our house,” he said, scowling. “Just because she’s got nice teeth she thinks I’m crazy about her.”

  “Teeth aren’t everything,” I said, and then: “How did you get on?”

  He ran his fingers through his unruly hair. “Ted’s known at the Street-Camera Studio,” he said. “He’s been there a number of times and he did buy some photographs. The dame there doesn’t remember whether the pictures were of the missing girls or not.”

  “Couldn’t you refresh her memory?”

  He shrugged. “She’s dumb,” he said, in disgust. “You know the type of dame. She wouldn’t remember when she had her last meal.”

  “How come she remembers Ted going there?”

  “He made a play for her,” Reg returned. “That guy goes for the dames in a big way. She thought he bought the pictures as an excuse to call on her.”

  “Haven’t you any details?” I asked, rolling a cigarette across the tablecloth to him.

  “He started coming to the shop a month or so ago. He got friendly with this dame—she fell for him in a big way—and he used to pick up one or two pictures of girls that were lying on the counter. After he’d kidded her for a while, he’d pay for the pictures and beat it. She was in such a trance she never noticed what the pictures were.”

  “He didn’t give her a ticket then?”

  Reg shook his head. “No, I guess he was too smart for that. I did find out the pictures taken on the previous day were always displayed on the counter. It looks like he’s the guy, but it’ll be difficult to pin it on him.”

  I grunted. “That doesn’t get us very far,” I said. “What else did you find out?”

  Reg let smoke drift down his nostrils. “I called on a friend of his. A guy named Roger Kirk. He and Ted go around together. He knows me, but he didn’t open up. I think maybe you might have a talk with him.”

  I looked at him thoughtfully. “What’s on your mind?”

  “This guy Kirk might know how involved Ted was with the missing girls. If you could scare him enough to talk, you might find something to work on.”

  “It’s an idea,” I said, “but we’ve got to watch out step. If Kirk tips Ted that we’re suspicious of him, it might gum up the works. After all, Esslinger’s going to be the big noise in this town if I’m not mistaken, and we’ll have to watch out. But still, I don’t think we can afford to pass up any lead. I’ll see what I can do about Kirk.”

  “I’ll leave him to you,” Reg said, shifting restlessly on his chair. “When do we eat? I’m starving.”

  “When Audrey comes,” I said, finishing my drink. “What do you know about Elmer Hench?”

  “That guy?” Reg screwed up his face. “He gives me the heebies. Did you ever see such a guy? They ought to put him in movies.”

  “But do you know anything about him?”

  “Not much, he runs the Funeral Parlour for Esslinger. I’ve heard it said he’s a pretty smart mortician. He specializes in embalming. By the time he’s through with a corpse you’d think it was alive. I haven’t seen any of his work and I don’t want to, but it’s supposed to be good.”

  “Mrs. Esslinger’s his sister, isn’t she?”

  Reg nodded. “Nice pair,” he said. “She got him the job when Esslinger went in for politics and he’s stuck ever since. I’m sorry for Esslinger having a ghoul like that around.”

  “Is it right Mrs. Esslinger drinks?” I asked. “Dixon said so, but she doesn’t look a drinker to me.”

  Reg shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” he said. “She’s queer. Esslinger’s scared of her.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She runs him and the business. I did hear she made Esslinger stand for politics. Of course, she’s crazy about Ted, but I guess you know that.”

  I shook my head. “From what I saw of her, she wouldn’t be crazy about anyone. I don’t like her. She makes me feel spooked.”

  The waitress came back with Reg’s coke. “Are you eating yet?” she asked.

  “Gee!” Reg protested as I shook my head. “Where the hell’s Audrey? Didn’t I tell you I’m starving?”

  “Okay,” I said, “two special dinners.” When the waitress had gone away, I went on: “Now I wonder if that kid’s got into trouble again.”

  Reg looked past me and grinned. “Not this time,” he said. “Here she comes.”

  I turned in my chair.

  Audrey, looking nice in an apple-green dress and large white hat, was coming across the room. Her eyes were alight with excitement. As I stood up I knew something had happened. “What is it?” I asked.

  She laid a blue ticket on the white tablecloth. “That was given to me just now,” she said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

  I didn’t have to look at the ticket twice. I knew what it was even before I read the caption at the top: You have just been photographed.

  I sat down slowly and stared across at Audrey, feeling the blood leaving my face.

  “Now don’t fly off the handle,” she said, smiling at me. “You ought to be pleased. Isn’t this just the chance we’ve been waiting for?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked sharply, trying to shake off the first effects of the shock. “If you think you’re going to monkey around with this, you’re crazy.”

  She sighed and looked at Reg for support. “What’s the matter with the man?” she asked. “Here’s something that’ll lead us straight to the killer and he tells me I’m crazy.”

  Even Reg was looking agitated. “Listen, sister,” he said gently. “The guy loves you.”

  It was Audrey’s turn to look startled. “Why, I thought it was a secret,” she said, with an embarrassed laugh.

  “So did I,” I said, grimly.

  “Why, a blind man with an abscess in his ear would know the sucker’s fallen for you,” Reg told her scornfully. “Where did you get this from?” He picked up the card and examined it.

  Audrey put her bag on the table and lit a cigarette. “A man took my photograph this afternoon,” she said lightly. “I was with Ted Esslinger and he had his photograph taken too.”

  The waitress came back with the special dinners. She eyed Audrey a little enviously. “Same for you?” she asked.

  I pushed my plate over to Audrey. “You have it,” I said. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  Audrey said: “But you must eat. You mustn’t worry about me.”

  “I’m all right,” I said shortly, and to the waitress: “I’ll have another Scotch.”

  “What love does for a guy,” Reg said shaking his head. “If ever I go off my food, I’ll know what it is.”

  “You shut up,” I said, annoyed. “I’ve got things on my mind.”

  “You certainly have,” Reg returned, bolting his food like he hadn’t had a meal all day. “Eat up,” he went on to Audrey, “this is swell.”

  I tapped the blue ticket. “I don’t like this,” I said. “From now on, Reg, you’re not to let Audrey out of your sight.”

  Reg glanced up, pursed his mouth in a soundless whistle and grinned. “Suits me,” he said. “When do you take a bath?” he went on, giving Audrey a leer.

  “Oh no,” she said firmly, “none of that. So you th
ink I can’t take care of myself, Mr. Marc Spewack?”

  “That sounds like famous last words,” I returned. “I tell you I don’t like it, Audrey. From now on you’re having a bodyguard.”

  “And what a guard!” Reg muttered under his breath. “And boy! What a body!”

  “If you don’t take this seriously,” I told him, “I’ll twist your goddam neck. You’re to watch Audrey, do you understand? If anything happens to her, you’re done for.”

  Reg laid down his fork. “You don’t honestly think the frill’s in danger?” he asked, astonished.

  “Don’t call me a frill,” Audrey said, indignantly. “Where are your manners?”

  “I do,” I said gravely. “From now on, we’re taking no chances. Look what happened to Marian.” I turned to Audrey. “Did Ted say anything when you were photographed?”

  “He seemed a bit scared,” Audrey returned. “He said I’d have to be careful.”

  I snorted. “I bet he did. Well, we’ll be careful all right. What else did you get out of him?”

  Audrey shook her head. “Not much,” she said ruefully. “In fact nothing at all.”

  I looked front her to Reg. “It strikes me neither of you are worth the money I’m paying you. Didn’t you find out if he had an alibi for the night of the murder?”

  Audrey stopped eating. “Now look, Mr. Spewack,” she said, hotly, “if you’re going to be superior I’ll quit and work on my own.”

  “And a long way you’ll get if you do,” I said, grinning. “But seriously, didn’t you even find that out?”

  “I did not,” she said. “He wouldn’t talk. I try to lead up to it, but he closed down like a clam. But he did ask me to go out with him tomorrow night.”

  I took the whisky from the waitress and thanked her. After the others had ordered ice cream and the waitress had gone away, I said: “You mean he’s made a date?”

  Audrey nodded. “I may not be much of a detective, but I’ve still got my sex appeal,” she said.

  “Take me over it slowly,” I said. “You and Ted are childhood pals, aren’t you?”