She laughed.
“Come on,” she said. She caught my hand and together we picked our way through the darkened basement. The elevator was in use.
I pushed the button and after a long time it appeared. We got in, and I pushed the button to the fourth floor.
“Try to look inconspicuous,” I said. “Damn these open grillework elevators.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Janis said. She caught me and pulled my face down to hers.
We held the clinch all the way to the fourth floor. Both our faces were hidden.
On the second floor I heard a woman laugh and say, “Aren’t they cute?”
But no one paid any attention.
Not at Walter’s.
We got out on the fourth floor. The corridor was empty. Still holding hands, we dashed down the corridor. From below we could hear the sounds of Walter’s guests.
Inside Janis’ room, we locked the door.
“The stronghold of the enemy,” I said. “Is there a drink in the place?”
Janis went to the bar.
“Champagne, brandy, or gin?” Janis said. “Take your choice.”
I found two large snifter glasses and poured the brandy.
I lifted the glass and drained it.
It was beautiful brandy.
Then I looked at Janis. She did not look well. The first swallow of brandy must have started the trouble.
She drank the rest of the glass and then I could see there was going to be real trouble.
“Oh-oh,” Janis said. Her face was pale. “Too many drinks on an empty stomach. Too many drinks.”
“Sit down,” I said. “Take it easy.”
“I don’t think so, darling.”
Then she dashed for the bathroom.
I followed her. “I’ll hold your head. I’m getting to be an expert at this,” I said.
“Get out of here, darling,” she said desperately. “Please get out.”
If people didn’t want expert advice and assistance it was all right with me. I left her alone.
I sat down, poured myself another drink and waited. Then, from the bathroom, I could hear that everything was going to be all right.
I sat down on the bed, took off my coat and rolled up my sleeves. Feeling very much at ease, I sat back on the bed and sipped the brandy.
Then I jumped up as if I’d been shot.
I got up off the bed and walked to the mirror over the vanity table. It looked perfectly innocent. Just like any other mirror.
I wondered, however, if Walter were sitting on the other side of the wall watching me.
I looked at the mirror and very clearly and very slowly, moving my lips so that they could be read even if the microphone was not on, I said a short phrase that used to be unprintable. I said it again.
Then the bathroom door opened.
Janis looked pale but she looked better. The crisis was obviously over.
She had brushed her hair, freshened her face, and was wearing a white terry-cloth shower robe.
“I’m all right now,” she said, “but I think maybe I better lie down a minute.”
I helped her and she sank weakly onto the bed.
I sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. I lit us cigarettes and we smoked in silence for a moment or two. Then I reached down and took her hand.
“Darling,” I said, “I love you. But I’ve got to know the truth. I have to know. Were you with Max that night at Anstruther’s?”
She looked up at me and when she answered there was no question in my mind that she was telling the truth. “No,” she said, “I wasn’t there.”
“Then you think Jean Dahl was lying when she said she heard you and Max?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Somebody knows,” I said fiercely. I caught her by the shoulder. “Somebody must know. Somebody’s lying. And I don’t think it was Jean Dahl. If you weren’t the girl with Max, who was?”
I pulled her to a sitting position.
Some of her color had come back.
“It’s hot in here,” she said. She pulled the shower robe open. She was not wearing anything underneath. She was very beautiful. I held her by the shoulder. I was trying to think. There was something she had said before that I’d forgotten. Something I wanted very much to remember.
It was something about nightclubs.
“What about nightclubs?” I snapped.
“What?”
“What about nightclubs? You said something about nightclubs.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Darling, you’ve got to remember.” I shook her. “What was it? What was it you said?”
Then I remembered what it was she had said.
“You said imitators in nightclubs. They imitate Hepburn and Davis and you. You said your phony accent was easy to imitate.
“What we’re trying to find out,” I continued, “is this: Who the two people at Anstruther’s were. Now maybe the reason we’re having so much trouble trying to figure out who the two people were is because there weren’t two people there at all.”
I let go, and Janis sank back to the pillow.
I began to pace back and forth across the room.
“Look,” I said, “who set up this crooked deal in the first place? Who’s really got the most to gain in all of this?”
I was beginning to shout a little now.
“Look,” I said. “Walter cooked up this deal with Anstruther. Now, then, when Anstruther took off with the check, all three of you were out looking for him. Only the person who found him first was Walter. Not you and Max. Walter knew that Anstruther wasn’t alone in the apartment. Jean Dahl worked for Walter. It figures that Walter knew she was there. And he knew she was listening to everything that went on.
“You say your voice is easy to imitate. Well, I’ve heard Walter imitate it. I’ve heard him do it. He does it perfectly. I’ve heard him do Max, too. There weren’t two people there. There was just one. It was Walter doing two of his famous imitations. Anstruther was so drunk that it wouldn’t have bothered him if Walter had thrown in imitations of Hepburn, Davis, and Lionel Barrymore. Walter was the two people Jean heard murdering Anstruther.
“All right then, what was the motive? First of all, the motive was nearly one hundred thousand dollars in cash. Walter got that. Look, look! Add this up. Maybe Walter already knew there was no book. Maybe he knew that all the time. Maybe the whole thing was a swindle that he and Anstruther cooked up to take you and Max for a hundred thousand dollars. How about that? But then he thought to himself, Why just stop at the hundred thousand? We can hit the jackpot. We can have the book, too, and make a million. And so he suggested to Anstruther that he let Jimmie write a new book.
“Now Anstruther was a bum. But he wasn’t that much of a bum. He wasn’t going to let somebody ghostwrite him a new book. So Walter had to face the fact that there wasn’t going to be any new book. The only way Walter could have a new million-dollar Anstruther book was over Anstruther’s dead body.
“And that’s the way he got it. It wasn’t hard for him to make it look like an accident. And in case the accident thing ever fell through, he had a witness planted who would be able to swear that you and Max were there. He really had this thing worked out.
“But then his hot witness turned out to be just as crooked as the rest of the people in this deal.
“Unfortunately, she went to Max and tried to blackmail him. Now we come to the next question: Why did Max
