She looked at me with cold, uninterested eyes. She certainly wasn’t a pickup.
“Nice game you play,” I said.
“Thank you,” she said in a voice which wasn’t exactly cold, but was certainly distant.
“Don’t go away,” I said.
Her glance was scornful.
“I’d like to talk with you, Miss Starr.” She was just ready to put her foot down on the pedal when I mentioned her name. She stopped all motion and looked at me curiously.
“Sorry to take this unconventional method of getting acquainted, but I had to see you before you saw the morning papers.” She was studying me now with eyes so cautious and expressionless they might have been enamelled with an airbrush —the tannish grey colour that is used so frequently on automobiles. “Who are you?” she asked.
I gave her one of the agency cards. She looked it over and asked, “What’s in the morning papers?” I said, “Dr. Devarest was found dead in his garage. Carbon monoxide.” She locked her feelings behind the mask of a frozen face. “Trying to get my goat?” she asked.
“Trying to tell you the truth.”
“How did you find me?”
“Not many girls in the city who are tennis enthusiasts rid( a bicycle to the tennis courts and play early in the morning.”
“How did you know I did that?”
“Your gloves—graphite grease from the chain of a bicycle. A young woman who is as much of a tennis enthusiast as you probably played tennis on her days off. That meant you had a second racket which you kept in your room, or apartment, You didn’t have an automobile. You’d been working for Mrs. Devarest about three months. Your other tennis racket, you know, was found by the police in the back of Dr. Devarest’s automobile.” She said: “Poor man, he had Bright’s disease—and lots of courage. For years he’d been noting his own symptoms, doing virtually nothing to take care of himself, keeping notes on the progress of the disease. I felt if I could get him out early in the morning, I might do something with him. He always felt he had no chance to get outdoor exercise because he was on call; but I pointed out that patients almost never called early in the morning. Their favourite time is at night right after a doctor has gone to sleep.”
“And in order to keep Mrs. Devarest from being jealous, he told her that he had early morning calls?” She shrugged her shoulders, and said, “I don’t know what he told her. We only played a few times. Is that on the square about—about what happened to him?”
“Yes.”
“How did it happen?”
“Apparently, he’d driven his car into the garage. Something was wrong with the motor, and he wanted to adjust it, or connect a loose wire somewhere.” She said slowly, “He was a great hand to tinker around with his automobile—spark plugs and things of that sort.”
“How about that chauffeur?”
“Dr. Devarest hated to be waited on. He liked to do things for himself. He wouldn’t let a chauffeur drive him anywhere. The chauffeur was for Mrs. Devarest. She used him as a sort of lackey.”
“And why did you leave as soon as the safe was robbed?” She said, “That’s neither here nor there,” and started to get on her wheel.
I said, “Right now, it’s here. Within a very short time it’s going to be there. Your disappearance drew suspicion to you.
The police are going to find you.” She got off her wheel, parked it up against the heavy wire mesh of the tennis court, and said, “All right, let’s talk. Shall I get in your automobile?” I nodded.
I held the door open for her. She said, “Go ahead and slide in. I’ll get in beside you.” I slid over behind the steering wheel, and she came up beside me with a quick, lithe motion. “You ask questions,” she inquired, “or do I talk?”
“You talk,” I said.
“Got a cigarette?” I gave her one. She lit it and settled her shoulders back against the cushion of the seat. I could see she was sparring for a little time. I didn’t hurry her any, but let her smoke and think.
She said, “It goes back a ways.”
“What does?”
“The reason I left.”
“How far back?”
“Quite a little while.”
“Something on the job?”
“No, no. Something that happened a long time before that. That’s why I took the name of Starr, and started out on my own.”
“What was it that happened?”
“Something that I wanted to forget about and wanted others to forget about.”
“What was it?”
“We won’t go into that.”
“If I knew, I might be able to help you.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“That’s what you think. You’re in a spot.”
“How so?”
“Jewels vanish. Secretary vanishes. Police don’t have a great deal of imagination. They put two and two together, and, in that arrangement, it always makes at least four, sometimes six or eight. In this instance, perhaps twelve.”
“If they find me, we’ll see if we can’t correct their addition.”
“I found you.”
“Are you the police?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“Just an investigator.”
“Employed by whom?”
“Dr. Devarest.”
“For what purpose?”
“To find you.”
“All right, now you’ve found me. So what?”
“I’ll have to report to my client.”
“He’s dead.”
“His wife.” She shook her head, said, “No, you don’t. I get out of this automobile, get on my bicycle and ride away.”
“Suppose I don’t see things that way?”
“What could you do about it?”
“Take you down to the nearest police station.”
“I’d require a lot of taking.”
“I’d require a lot of escaping from.”
“But you don’t want to turn me over to the police?”
“Those weren’t my instructions. I think the doctor was more interested in finding you than in finding the jewels.” She looked me over pretty carefully, for several seconds. “Just what do you mean by that crack?”
“There was something in the safe that he wanted. He thought that the person who opened the safe wanted it, too. Taking the jewels was just a blind. If the jewels were taken at AAall. That may have been just a gag he thought up so he could call in the police.”
“And he thought I got what was in the safe?”
“Apparently.”
“I haven’t got it.” I said, “I was hired to find you. I’ve found you. You can talk it over with my clients.”
“Look here, Mrs. Devarest isn’t your client.” I grinned and said. “She’s inherited me.”
“Do you know what was in that safe?”
“No.” She smoked for a few moments, either debating whether to tell me, or else trying to think up a good lie. Then she ground out the end of the cigarette in the ash-tray, and said, “Dr. Devarest worshipped the ground Nadine Croy walked on, not only for her sake, but because of the little girl, Selma. He would have done anything to have protected their happiness.” She paused and looked me over. “Did he tell you anything about that?”
“This is your show,” I said. “I’m just the audience. Keep the act moving.”
“You mean you wouldn’t tell me if he had?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if he hadn’t?”
“No. The things I know I’m keeping to myself so I can check that much of your story.” She said, “I don’t know exactly what it was. Walter Croy, Nadine’s husband, is a prize heel. He’d been bothering Nadine. He wanted custody of Selma, at least part of the time. He had lawyers, and a lot of petitions to the court, and even some affidavits about a cocktail party Nadine went to. Then all of a sudden, everything quit. We didn’t hear anything more from Walter. And about that time the doctor had this wall safe instal
led.”
“Any other evidence beside that?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Just little things, little comments.”
“You think Dr. Devarest had something to do with Walter Croy’s laying off of Nadine?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Dr. Devarest had the whip hand in some way. I guess you wouldn’t call it blackmail, but it was something.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“Isn’t it?”
“And so when the safe was burgled, you took a powder?”
“That’s right.”
“And had a game of tennis afterwards with the doctor?”
“After what?”
“After you’d taken the powder.”
“No. That was before.”
“Oh, you did play tennis with him then?”
“I told you that.”
“But you didn’t say you’d played tennis with him Wednesday morning.”
“Not Wednesday. Tuesday. He was going fishing Wednesday. I left Tuesday afternoon.”
“Where are you living?”
“That’s my business.”
“You want me to go to Mrs. Devarest with a story like that?”
“No. If you’ve got good sense, you’ll keep your mouth shut. You’ll go to Mrs. Devarest and say, `Look, your husband’s unfortunate death terminated my employment. I don’t suppose you care about going ahead and paying me money to find your jewels. On the other hand, Dr. Devarest had made a definite contract. Suppose we call it quits? You pay me some cash by way of compromise, and I walk out on the case.’ ”
“Why should I do that?”
“Because everyone will be happier that way.” I said, “The doctor evidently thought you had what he wanted—whatever came out of the safe.” She said, “No. You’ve got that wrong. The doctor thought I knew who had it.”
“Do you?” She hesitated for a second or two, then said shortly, “No.”
“Could you make a good guess?”
“No.”
“If Dr. Devarest had been alive, you wouldn’t have said no to both those questions quite as quickly, would you?” She raised her eyes to mine. “Why not?” I said, “I wish I knew the answer to that myself.”
“I could use another cigarette,” she said.
I gave her one. I could tell, from the way she lit it, she was doing a lot of thinking. Abruptly, she said, “Look. I’ve got to take a shower, and get some breakfast. You don’t want to turn me over to the police. You don’t intend to let me get away. Suppose I make a deal with you? Suppose I tell you where I’m living, and let it go at that?”
“Where?”
“The Bel Aire. That’s only a few blocks from here, down Vermont.”
“Living by yourself?”
“No. I share an apartment with another girl.”
“You also had a room at Dr. Devarest’s?”
“Yes. My duties kept me there, but I had a day off, and that meant two nights.”
“When was your day off?”
“Wednesdays. I’d leave the house Tuesday night and get back Thursday morning.” I said, “Let’s see. Dr. Devarest was taking it easier, too. Wasn’t he? I believe he was trying to take Wednesdays off.” She looked at me coldly. “Is that intended to be a crack or are you just trying to draw me out?”
“Which one would work the better?”
“Neither,” she said, and determinedly pushed the handle on the door. I let her get out. She walked over to the bicycle, climbed on, and pedalled rapidly down the drive without even looking back. I stayed behind, keeping her in sight. She went to the Bel Aire Apartments, dismounted, casually parked the bicycle at the pavement, and walked in.
I found a parking place for the car, found a telephone, and called Elsie Brand, Bertha’s efficient, taciturn secretary. “Had breakfast, Elsie?”
“Just finished.”
“Got time to do a job?”
“What?”
“Smash a bicycle.”
“With what?”
“Your private automobile. It’s an agency job.”
“Does Bertha know about it?”
“Better call her, hadn’t you?”
“No. It would take too long to explain.”
“Where are you?”
“Parked at the kerb a few doors down the street from the Bel Aire Apartments on Vermont.” She said, “Can I do it and still get uptown in time to open the office?”
“I think so. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Exactly what do I do?” I said, “Get this straight. Take the side street to the corner north-west of the Bel Aire. Toot your horn twice as you come around the corner into Vermont. Slow almost to a stop to give me a little time. I’ll drive away. There’s a bicycle parked in front of the apartment house. If it isn’t there when you get here or if you don’t see me drive away when you toot, just go open up the office and forget about it.”
“All right,” she said. “I toot. You’re there. You drive away. The bicycle is there. Then what do I do?”
“Try parking your car in close to the apartment house. You’re not very smart at parking, and you smash the bicycle, smash it good enough so it can’t be ridden away.”
“Then what?”
“A girl in a play suit will come out and get indignant.” ‘What do I do?”
“You’re insured with the Auto Club, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Get very haughty. Tell her that she had no business leaving her bicycle there in the first place, that you’re insured with the Auto Club, and that you really can’t be bothered with little things. Give her your name and address, then drive away.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“Don’t try to follow her?”
“Absolutely not. Not under any circumstances.”
“Then what?”
“Report to the Auto Club and tell them that when she makes a claim for damages, you want to see all the details.”
“Okay,” she said, “on my way.” I hung up and went back to wait in the automobile. I thought Elsie Brand could probably get there in ten minutes if she hurried. That was one nice thing about Elsie. If she was going to do anything, she did it very thoroughly and very efficiently.
She made it in exactly eight and one-half minutes from the time I hung up the telephone. I heard her toot the horn as she came around the corner, got a glimpse of her car in my rear view mirror. I ostentatiously looked at my watch, scribbled a note in my notebook, and drove away, trying to look very smug and self-satisfied.
Driving straight down Vermont, I looked through my rear view mirror. I could see Elsie Brand inching her car in toward a parking place, then I saw the front wheel turn sharply, and the car smash into the parked bicycle.
There was a street intersection ahead, and I turned the car to the right.
Chapter V
I HAD a leisurely breakfast and went up to the office. Elsie Brand was clacking away on her typewriter as I came in. Her fingers kept hammering at the keyboard as she looked up to give me a quick nod.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Girl came out?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the boss?”
“Inside. Reading the paper.” I went on in. Bertha was seated at the big desk. Her ocean fishing was making her brown as shredded wheat. Her flowing white hair gave her a motherly appearance. “Reading about Dr. Devarest?” I asked.
“Yes. How did it happen, Donald?”
“He told me to wait in his study, said he’d be back by nine-thirty at the latest. I got interested reading a book and didn’t realize how fast time was passing.”
“The newspaper says you discovered the body.”
“That’s right.” She made a little grimace and said, “I guess that winds up the case. Just when it looked as though Bertha had a nice piece of business
, too.” I said, “I think Mrs. Devarest is going to want us. I’ve found the Starr girl.”
“You have?”
“Uh huh.”
“How’d you do it?”
“Oh, just a little leg work. I found she rode a bicycle and played tennis early in the mornings. I had a pretty fair description. There aren’t many women who ride bicycles to tennis courts early in the morning.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know.” Bertha scowled. “What do you mean by that?”
“I couldn’t follow her, not when she knew I was on the job. She gave me a phoney address—the Bel Aire Apartments. She rode the bicycle up there and went in. She’d have waited there until I drove away. I didn’t want to inconvenience her, so I drove away.”
“Couldn’t you have followed her?”
“Ever try following a good rider on a bicycle with an automobile?” She thought that over.
I said, “She’d have gone out into heavy traffic, taken a street that had two lanes of automobiles waiting for a signal, slipped out in between the lanes, and left me sitting there with the motor running.”
“What did you do?”
“Got Elsie to smash the bicycle. Elsie is insured with the Automobile Club.”
“Think the girl will be sucker enough to make a claim under her right name?”
“I think so. Elsie can put on a good act. I told her to be snooty and disinterested, mention the Auto Club, and drive away.”
“What about Mrs. Devarest?”
“I’m to see her at ten-thirty.”
“What’s she want?”
“The police think her husband may have stolen the gems himself. She wants his name cleared.”
“Can you do it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he stole them.” Bertha studied me with her little, hard eyes. She took a cigarette from the humidor on the desk, inserted one end in a long, carved ivory holder, lit it, and sat there trying to think of something to say. The diamonds on her left hand flashed as she raised the cigarette holder once more to her mouth.
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I’d take the job.”
“Why did you tell her that, if you think he stole them?”
Double or Quits Page 4
