“It takes some time before royalties begin to come in from patents. Lloyd had several excellent chances to sell some of his patents outright, but since we didn’t need the money, he preferred to take a long-range view and only lease them on a royalty basis. It’s only since father died that Lloyd started patenting his inventions. And every patent he’s leased is tied up with an ironclad contract. Returns are low to start with that way, but the eventual income should be four to five times what he could have gotten by outright sales. My brother was an excellent businessman.”
By then it was pushing twelve-thirty and I offered to buy Madeline lunch. We had it in an excellent restaurant she knew from having spent her whole life in the neighborhood. The food was fine, but the lunch was no fun because Madeline kept pestering me to know what I had been looking for and I was in no mood to tell her.
“I want to talk to Warren Day before I say a word to anyone else,” I said. “I think I’ve got the answer to this case, but there isn’t a shred of proof. Before I lay myself open to a possible defamation of character suit, I want to see if Day can help me.”
“You mean you actually know who killed Walter Ford?”
“I’ve got a theory about it. It may come to nothing. And that’s all you get until I find out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I FOUND THE INSPECTOR leaning back in his chair, hands clasped across his lean stomach, staring out the window with an unnatural expression on his face. After studying the expression for a moment, I came to the incredulous conclusion that it was geniality.
He cocked an eye at me and said affably, “Hello, Manny.”
That unnerved me. When Day calls me “Manny” instead of “Moon,” he either wants a favor or has just received exceptionally good news.
“All this evidence of good cheer. If you’re not careful, you’ll get yourself expelled from the ogre’s union.”
This brought a frown to his face, which made him look more normal. “While I think of it, Moon, give me back that picture.”
I had forgotten I was still carrying around a piece of evidence. Taking the photograph of Bubbles and Daniel Cumberland from my pocket, I handed it to him. It disappeared into the top drawer of his desk.
“I’m going to cheer you up even more than you are, Inspector,” I said. “This ought to make you delirious.” “You’re moving out of town,” he guessed.
I gave him a wounded look. “Then who would do your work for you? No, but I’ve got a brand-new theory about the Ford-Cumberland case.”
“You’re a little late,” he said. “I’ve got more than a theory. I’ve got a solution.” I raised my eyebrows.
“My idea of having the high schools run a check of their summer-school pupils paid off,” he said. I noted that it was now his idea instead of Hannegan’s. “We located the kid who had that gun initialed at Jessup’s.”
“And found out who hired him?”
“Well, not yet. I just talked to the school principal over the phone. I sent Hannegan over to Fairmont High to pick the kid up. He ought to be back any minute now.”
In view of this development I decided to keep my new theory to myself until we heard what the fake Pickup Service messenger had to say.
Eventually there was a knock on the door and Day yelled, “In!”
The door opened and Lieutenant Hannegan ushered in a tall, thin youngster with a horselike face. The boy seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen and he was dressed in denim slacks and a T-shirt.
“Eddie Johnson,” Hannegan said. “Inspector Day. Moon.” “Sit down, Eddie,” Day said in a friendly voice, pointing to a chair.
Gingerly the youngster seated himself. He looked a little nervous but not particularly scared.
“You’re a student at Fairmont, are you?” the inspector asked in an obvious attempt to put the kid at ease.
“Yes, sir.” The “yes” started in a bass voice, but the “sir” came out soprano.
“You know why we want to talk to you, Eddie?” “Yes, sir. Mr. Benson told me. He’s our principal.” “What did Mr. Benson tell you, Eddie?”
“Well, he asked over the loud-speaker if any of the students had run an errand to Jessup’s Jewelry Store recently, and if they had, to report to the office. I reported, and Mr. Benson said the police were trying to locate the person I ran the errand for. But I don’t think I’ll be able to help you much, sir.”
Day frowned. “Why not?”
“I don’t know who she was.”
The statement brought both Day and me up straight in our chairs.
“Did you say ‘She'?” I asked. “Yes, sir. It was a woman.”
The inspector said, “We didn’t expect you to know her name, Eddie. All we need is a description.” He gave me a pleased look. “Seems our killer is a woman, Moon. That conform to your new theory?”
It knocked the props from under my new theory, but I didn’t want to give Day the satisfaction of knowing that. I merely gave him an enigmatic smile.
“I don’t know if I can describe her too good,” Eddie said dubiously. “Except she was a nice-looking woman.”
“How did she contact you?”
“She just stopped me on the street after school and said she’d give me five bucks to run an errand for her. I said sure, and she took me in a taxi over to Jessup’s. She gave me a big manila envelope with something heavy inside and told me to tell the jeweler I was from Pickup Service.
“Well, I done like she said, and that’s all there was to it. I give the envelope to the man in the store, walked out again and got back in the taxi. The woman give me five bucks and dropped me off in front of the school, where she picked me up. Then, just before I got out, she told me to meet her the same place and the same time next day and I could make another five bucks. So I did, and this time my job was to pick up the envelope and pay the charges on it. She give me a ten-dollar-bill to pay for it with, and when I handed her back the change, she paid me off and had the taxi take me back to the school again. I never saw her since.”
“Okay, Eddie,” Day said. “Now to get back to this woman’s description. Was she a blonde or a brunette?”
“I never saw her hair. She wore one of those scarf things around her head.”
The inspector frowned. “About what age was she?”
“Not real old,” Eddie said vaguely. “Around twenty or thirty. I’m not much good at guessing women’s ages.”
“Just describe her as well as you can,” he said.
Eddie Johnson screwed his long face into a thoughtful frown. “Well, she had a kind of pretty face and a nice shape. Not too fat and not too skinny. She wore just a plain dress. Blue, I think. And this light blue scarf around her head. I noticed she had nice legs.” He thought a moment and added, “She was about average height.”
Day looked frustrated. “That description fits half the women in town,” he said to me. “I guess we’ll just have to parade them all before him.”
“Parade half the women in town?” I asked.
“The ones connected with the case,” he said impatiently.
“And that’s who?”
He gave me an irritated look. “The women who were there the evening Ford got it. Evelyn Karnes, Bubbles Duval, Madeline Strong. Do I have to spell it out for you?” He paused a moment and added, “Fausta Moreni.”
“Fausta had never even seen Walter Ford until an hour before he was dead,” I protested.
“We’ll parade her anyway. I’m not playing any favorites. Hannegan, bring in the four women I just mentioned.”
As the lieutenant straightened away from the wall, I said, “Hold it a minute. Are you planning to parade all four women at once and let Eddie pick one out?”
“That’s the usual way,” Day said.
“Then you’ll have to wait till tonight,” I told him. “Unless you’re mean enough to make Bubbles Duval lose her job by dragging her away from Saxon and Harder’s in the middle of a fashion show. She works till seven.”
For a
few moments he merely stared at me, his nose slightly whitening at the tip. Then he said, “Oh, the hell with you, Moon.” At Hannegan he snarled, “Arrange for all four women to be here at seven-thirty P.M. sharp.”
“One of them is in the building now,” I offered. “Madeline Strong is back visiting Thomas Henry in his cell.”
The inspector grunted, picked up his desk phone and instructed someone to bring Madeline Strong to his office.
Then he said to Eddie, “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay right here at headquarters until this is over, Eddie. We’ll serve you some supper here. You can phone your folks and tell them where you are and that you’re not in any trouble. You can use my phone, and if they’re worried, I’ll talk to them.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Just a minute,” Day called. To Hannegan he said, “That’s probably Miss Strong, and I don’t want her to see Eddie or Eddie to see her until we can have a fair parade no shyster lawyer can break, with all four women present at the same time. Take him in the next room.”
As the lieutenant disappeared through the side door, the inspector called, “Come in.”
It was Madeline Strong. “You wanted to see me, Inspector?” she asked.
“Yes. Could you be down here at my office tonight at seven-thirty?”
“Tonight?” the girl asked. “I’m supposed to be at Barney Amhurst’s at eight.”
“Another party?” I asked dryly.
Apparently Madeline’s session with her fiancé had gotten her her over her pout at me, for her voice was entirely friendly when she spoke. “Not exactly, though I suppose Barney will serve drinks. It’s more a business meeting to decide whether we should try to buy out Walter Ford’s widow’s share of Huntsafe. She inherits Walter’s ten cent, you know.”
I had an idea. “Then Friday will be there too?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And will he bring Evelyn Karnes?” “I suppose. He usually does.”
To the inspector I said, “I’ve got a better idea than bringing everybody down here. Why disrupt so many people’s plans? Let’s let this meeting go ahead, and I’ll get Fausta and Bubbles over to Barney’s at eight too.”
The inspector threw up his hands. “First you heckle me into postponing it till tonight, now you want it halfway across town. You run it any way you damn please, Moon.”
Rising, he stalked out of his own office and slammed the door.
“What’s the matter with him?” Madeline asked.
“Temperament,” I understated.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
AFTER WARREN DAY left us alone, I explained to Madeline the inspector hoped to crack the case that evening, and it was essential none of the people who would be at Amhurst’s know in advance anything was scheduled beyond the business meeting already arranged. I also asked her if, without arousing suspicion that anything unusual was underway, she could find out definitely whether or not Evelyn Karnes planned to be present.
Madeline said, “That’s easy,” and promptly used the inspector’s phone to call Evelyn. On the feminine pretext that she wanted to know what Evelyn planned to wear, so that she could dress accordingly, she learned that Evelyn was going to Amhurst’s with Ed Friday that evening.
I took it upon myself to get Bubbles and Fausta there.
When I phoned Fausta, she was a little difficult about arrangements, pretending to believe I had reached that stage of life where I felt I had to prove my romantic prowess by parading women in public.
“This isn’t a date,” I explained patiently. “Warren Day wants everyone present who was there the night of the murder. Would you rather I just pick Bubbles up and send Hannegan after you?”
Fausta sniffed. “I will go with you since it is the inspector’s wish. But you come for me first, Manny Moon.”
“Be ready at a quarter of eight,” I told her. “And this isn’t formal. A plain dress will do.”
Bubbles presented no such problem because I neglected telling her the circumstances. I merely phoned her shortly after seven, said I would be by to pick her up just before eight, and made no mention of the fact that I would have Fausta along.
As a matter of fact I didn’t let her find it out until I had escorted her from her door to the curb and held the car door open for her.
“What’s this?” she asked then, staring at Fausta. “You competing with King Farouk, Manny?”
“Get in,” I said. “This isn’t an evening of pleasure. We’re going over to Barney Amhurst’s to solve a couple of murders.”
Dubiously Bubbles slipped into the seat next to Fausta.
It was shortly after eight when I pulled up in front of the Remley
Apartments. Apparently Ed Friday and Evelyn Karnes were already there, for the gray coupé of Friday’s bodyguard stood in the same spot it had the night Ford was killed. I also spotted Warren Day’s car parked across the street.
As I helped the two women out of my Plymouth, Max Furtell stepped from his coupé and limped over.
“Well, well,” he said to me. “I kind of been hoping I’d run into you again.”
“I haven’t time to play now, Max. Run along.”
Max grinned at me. “Excuse me, ladies, but I’ve got a little unfinished business with your boy friend.”
He was starting to reach out for a handful of shirt front when Warren Day’s voice said from behind him, “Something on your mind, Furtell?”
“Oh, hello, Inspector,” Max said uneasily. “I was just saying hello to Mr. Moon here.”
“So you’ve said it,” Day growled. “Now climb back in your car and stay there.”
“Sure, Inspector.” He went back toward his car without looking at any of us.
As the inspector, the two women and I moved toward the apartment-house entrance, I asked Day, “How about the kid?”
“He’ll stay in the car with Hannegan until I make sure they’re all here.”
Barney Amhurst seemed surprised to see us, but he acted the part of the perfect host. Inviting us in, he waved us all to chairs and asked what we would like to drink.
“Madeline and Friday and I have a little business to discuss,” he said. “But it’s nothing secret and it won’t take long. We can have a party at the same time.”
“We didn’t come for a party,” Warren Day said in a grim voice. “I’m here on official business.”
He stared around at the assembly. Madeline Strong and the sleek Evelyn Karnes sat side by side on a sofa. Ed Friday had been seated in a chair by the fireplace but rose when Fausta and Bubbles came in. When the two women found chairs, he seated himself again and nodded shortly to me.
“I guess everybody is here,” the inspector decided. “Just stay put. I’ll be back in a minute.”
As he disappeared again, Barney Amhurst stared puzzledly at the door he had gone through. “What’s this all about, Moon?”
“The inspector won’t be long,” I said. “He’ll explain when he comes back.”
Now that it seemed we were finally on the verge of breaking the case, I had been experiencing steadily mounting excitement. But when Day returned with Eddie Johnson and Hannegan in tow, there was an anti-climax. The boy stood in the center of the room, looked carefully from Fausta to Madeline to Bubbles to Evelyn, then slowly shook his head.
“None of these is the lady I ran the errands for,” he stated positively.
“What!” Day yelled, his nose instantly beginning to whiten. “I can’t help it,” Eddie said defensively. “The right lady just isn’t here.”
Day turned an accusing stare at me.
I said, “Inspector, we’ve been working on the premise Ford was either shot, or hired shot, by someone who was here that night. It just occurred to me there’s a fifth woman connected with the case. And she’s got the best motive of all.”
When he only continued to stare at me, I said, “Mrs. Jennifer Ford. She was having trouble collecting alimony from Walter, but as his widow she won’t have a bit o
f trouble collecting his ten-per-cent interest in the Huntsafe.”
“Hannegan,” the inspector snapped. “Bring Mrs. Ford over here right away.”
“Twenty-two twelve Wright Street,” I offered helpfully. “It’s only about six blocks from here.”
When Hannegan had gone, I walked over to the door of Barney Amhurst’s workroom, opened it and felt alongside the door for the light switch.
“Want anything in particular?” Barney Amhurst asked from behind me.
My hand connected with the switch and I flicked it on. The place had been cleaned up, I noted. All the bloodstains had been removed, the broken glass swept up, and a fresh pane replaced the broken panel of the French door.
“Nothing in particular,” I said preoccupiedly. “Just refreshing my memory.”
Switching off the light again, I pulled the door shut.
To Warren Day I said, “If it turns out Jennifer Ford is the woman who hired Eddie, that new theory I had still hangs together with a slight modification. Want to hear it?”
“What have I got to lose?” the inspector asked.
“What threw me off course was learning a woman had that gun initialed,” I said. “Before that I had it all figured out that a man was the killer. Now I think so again. I’m guessing the only part Mrs. Ford had in this was stealing a couple of her husband’s pistols from his apartment, getting one initialed ‘T.H.’ and turning them both over to the killer.”
“You don’t even know yet that she’s the woman,” Day growled.
“I’m fairly certain of it now that I’ve got the cobwebs out of my brain,” I assured him. Everything fits all the way. Even Ed Friday’s attempt to bribe me to leave town.”
“Leave me out of it,” Friday said in a ponderous voice.
“You let yourself in,” I told him. “I doubt that we can make an accessory charge stick, but you know and I know that you’ve been aware of who Ford’s killer was all along.”
The ex-racketeer emitted a snort. “Why would I conceal a thing like that?”
“Because you knew the motive for the killing. You didn’t care a hoot about either Ford or the killer, but you did care about your forty per cent interest in the Huntsafe. And you knew the moment the motive came out your agreement with Barney Amhurst wouldn’t be worth the paper it was written on. Because Amhurst didn’t have any legal right to make such an agreement.”
Give the Girl a Gun Page 15
