filing charges, but if something like that happened in a strange city where nobody knew her—” He lifted his hands and let them fall with a smack on the desk— “well, it might be a prison matter, mightn’t it?”
“Has she ever been fingerprinted?”
“She has never been arrested,” he said.
“That’s not what I mean. Sometimes in large department stores they make it a condition of dropping shoplifting charges that you give them your prints. It scares the amateurs and builds up a file of kleptomaniacs in their protective association. When the prints come in a certain number of times they call time on you.”
“Nothing like that has happened to my knowledge,” he said.
“Well, I think we might almost throw the shoplifting angle out of this for the time being,” I said. “If she got arrested, she would get searched. Even if the cops let her use a Jane Doe name on the police blotter, they would be likely to get in touch with you. Also she would start yelling for help when she found herself in a jam.” I tapped the blue and white telegraph form. “And this is a month old. If what you are thinking about happened around that time, the case would have been settled by now. If it was a first offense, she would get off with a scolding and a suspended sentence.”
He poured himself another drink to help him with his worrying.
“You’re making me feel better,” he said.
“There are too many other things that could have happened,” I said. “That she did go away with Lavery and they split up. That she went away with some other man and the wire is a gag. That she went away alone or with a woman. That she drank herself over the edge and is holed up in some private sanatorium taking a cure. That she got into some jam we have no idea of. That she met with foul play.”
“Good God, don’t say that,” Kingsley exclaimed.
“Why not? You’ve got to consider it. I get a very vague idea of Mrs. Kingsley—that she is young, pretty, reckless, and wild. That she drinks and does dangerous things when she drinks. That she is a sucker for the men and might take up with a stranger who might turn out to be a crook. Does that fit?”
He nodded. “Every word of it.”
“How much money would she have with her?”
“She liked to carry enough. She has her own bank and her own bank account. She could have any amount of money.”
“Any children?”
“No children.”
“Do you have the management of her affairs?”
He shook his head. “She hasn’t any—excepting depositing checks and drawing out money and spending it. She never invests a nickel And her money certainly never does me any good, if that’s what you are thinking.” He paused and then said: “Don’t think I haven’t tried. I’m human and it’s not fun to watch twenty thousand a year go down the drain and nothing to show for it but hangovers and boy friends of the class of Chris Lavery.”
“How are you with her bank? Could you get a detail of the checks she has drawn for the past couple of months?”
“They wouldn’t tell me. I tried to get some information of the sort once, when I had an idea she was being blackmailed. All I got was ice.”
“We can get it,” I said, “and we may have to. It will mean going to the Missing Persons Bureau. You wouldn’t like that?”
“If I had liked that, I wouldn’t have called you,” he said.
I nodded, gathered my exhibits together and put them away in my pockets. “There are more angles to this than I can even see now,” I said, “but I’ll start by talking to Lavery and then taking a run up to Little Fawn Lake and asking questions there. I’ll need Lavery’s address and a note to your man in charge at the mountain place.”
He got a letterhead out of his desk and wrote and passed it over. I read: “Dear Bill: This will introduce Mr. Philip Marlowe who wishes to look over the property. Please show him my cabin and assist him in every way. Yrs. Derace Kingsley.”
I folded this up and put it in the envelope he had addressed while I was reading it. “How about the other cabins up there?” I asked.
“Nobody up this year so far. One man’s in government service in Washington and the other is at Fort Leavenworth. Their wives are with them.”
“Now Lavery’s address,” I said.
He looked at a point well above the top of my head. “In Bay City. I could find the house but I forget the address. Miss Fromsett can give it to you, I think. She needn’t know why you want it. She probably will. And you want a hundred dollars, you said.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “That’s just something I said when you were tramping on me.”
He grinned. I stood up and hesitated by the desk looking at him. After a moment I said: “You’re not holding anything back, are you—anything important?”
He looked at his thumb. “No. I’m not holding anything back.
I’m worried and I want to know where she is. I’m damn worried.
If you get anything at all, call me any time, day or night.”
I said I would do that, and we shook hands and I went back down the long cool office and out to where Miss Fromsett sat elegantly at her desk.
“Mr. Kingsley thinks you can give me Chris Lavery’s address,” I told her and watched her face.
