have been making, what they were saying about the force. He said something about Nestor's wife I too, and a woman named Corliss. And he mentioned somebody named Elger. That's all I remember, I'm sorry.'

'That's fine,' said Mendoza. 'He said definitely he was going to see the clerk at the hotel?'

'Yes, that I remember. He-' She stopped, and finished her drink rather quickly. 'He left about twenty past seven.

He kissed me at the door and said, ‘Think I'll try those Elgers first, or the Nestor woman-and, damn it, I'll be late because that clerk's not on until nine. Probably be home about ten-thirty.' That's-'

'O.K.,' said Mendoza. 'That's something. But he must have gone to see Mrs. Nestor first, and we know he was all right when he left there. Gives us a sort of terminus a quo, anyway.' He stared into his nearly empty glass.

Suddenly she got up, came over to stand in front of him. 'You'll find out, won't you?' she said.

Mendoza looked up at her. 'We'll fond out. Whatever happens.'

'Yes. I never-never liked you very much,' said Angel. 'It seems a little funny, but I guess now I can see I was a little jealous of you. Not just of you. All of them. The office. You because you're the important one there.

And he-thinks-so much-of you.'

'Yes,' said Mendoza. He stood up. 'Yes, Angel. I know that.'

'He thinks-you're so good,' she said. Her eyes were very bright. 'I never thought- But the way all of you have- They've all called me, you know, to say- There was even a letter from the chief. I never really understood how it is-with all of you. I-I used to resent the job, sometimes.'

'As most cops' wives do,” said Mendoza. 'Which just makes it all the tougher for the cops.'

'Yes. I wouldn't feel that way any more,' she said. 'It's like-I see that-soldiers in line of d-duty. All together.'

'And there is no discharge in that war,' said Mendoza with a crooked smile.

'So you will find out who. You'll just go on until you do. Whatever happens. And I guess-maybe-he was right about you too. I didn't think you ever felt things much, that you were the kind of man who- But you do. I see.'

'Now I'll tell you,' he said gently, 'I never thought much of you either, but you're a good girl, Angel. I wouldn't have thought you'd stand up to this so well. Whatever happens, we'll get him, I promise you.'

After a moment Alison said with a little catch in her voice, 'Well, if the mutual admiration society'll break up, I think dinner's about ready… I suppose it's silly to ask you if you're going out again.'

' Tu debeas saberlo,' said Mendoza. 'I'm going out on what the British call a pub crawl'

'Bars?' said Alison. 'Good heavens. You can't go into bars without drinking, and you know what three drinks do to you. You'll end up getting picked up for disturbing the peace, or assault and battery.'

'?Dios me libre! ” said Mendoza. 'I just hope to God we can turn up something useful.'

ELEVEN

They were out in force down there tonight, most of the night shift and some of the day men, wandering in and out of the bars in the Slasher's territory. Palliser was stationed in the bar where the bartender said the lush Rosie dropped in; he'd stay until ten-thirty when Higgins would take over. The bartender didn't like it, but agreed to point her out if she came in. Piggott was sitting in the bar on Flower Street where the bartender remembered the fellow who had paid him with a silver dollar and walked out with Theodore Simms, The rest of the men had only a very vague description to work from, but they'd be checking on anybody who matched it, getting names and addresses. That was the kind of dogged routine that often got you there in the end, especially on one like this. Mendoza went first to the bar on Main, the bar Rosie frequented. Palliser was sitting in the rear booth, and getting surly looks from the bartender for occupying a whole booth instead of a stool. He didn't come over to take Mendoza's order right away.

'Nothing yet,' said Palliser.

'Couldn't expect it,' said Mendoza. 'Too early. If she's working tonight at all, she's still fixing herself up in her room… No wonder nobody could offer any descriptions. I can hardly see you, let alone anybody across the room. 'These damn places-' He looked up as the bartender slouched over and said, 'Nothing for me, thanks.'

The bartender almost snarled at him. Palliser was taking an occasional small sip of a highball.

Mendoza drifted over to the bar on Flower Street, to have a word with Piggott. Piggott was the day tail on Margaret Corliss, and he greeted Mendoza with something like excitement. 'I was just wondering was it worth while calling in, Lieutenant. See, I-'

'Something?… Straight rye,' said Mendoza to the bartender, sliding into the opposite side of the booth.

'Not on this, no. It's that Corliss dame. You know I got a pretty good memory for faces. Well, when I first laid eyes on her today I thought right off I'd seen her before. Only I couldn't place where. I been thinking about it on and off all day, you know how a thing like that bothers you. Like some name you can't remember, but it's right on the tip of your tongue. It kept bothering me something awful, because I got to thinking it might be important. Well, I said to myself, lay it at the Lord's door and ask for help on it.' Piggott looked at him earnestly over his glass of plain water; Piggott was a pillar of the Free Methodist Church and wouldn't have dreamed of touching the jigger of whiskey at his elbow. 'And just five minutes ago, as I was sitting here not really thinking about it, the Lord came through and I remembered. I saw that woman down at headquarters once, Lieutenant. I couldn't tell you when, but I can tell you where-it was in the corridor right outside the Vice office. I'd been down there, some reason, and I saw Lieutenant Andrews with her-he had her by one arm, they were just going into his office.'

'?No me diga! ' said Mendoza. 'That's very interesting. That all you remember? Well, we know it wasn't a charge because her prints aren't on file, but if she was brought in for questioning even once, maybe Percy will remember something about it. Probably be somewhere in his records anyway. I'll ask him in the morning. That's very interesting indeed… '

From there he wandered over, looking around several other joints on the way, to the bar on Broadway where the barkeep remembered the fellow with the silver dollars. He found Higgins sitting on the end stool there, over a nearly empty glass, watching the crowd. 'He said he'd give me a signal if the guy came in, but he's not very sure he'd know him again.'

The bartender came up, but only to take Mendoza's order and suggest a refill. Higgins shoved over his glass and Mendoza said, 'You'd better nurse them along slower, George, it's still early.'

Higgins laughed. 'My God, place like this gets about sixty-five highballs out of a fifth, and only eighty proof to start with… You sure see the types in these joints. Makes you wonder about people, how they get this far down.”

Presently Glasser and Scarne came in, and took a good look at all the customers. There was a man alone, round the horseshoe curve of the bar, who matched what there was of their vague description: medium height; thin, in. rather loose-fitting old clothes. Glasser went up to him, they exchanged a few words, and the man, looking very frightened, went out with Glasser. Five minutes later he came back in, looking shaken, and ordered a new drink. Glasser would have his name and address.

Routine. It usually got you there in the end. Sooner or later…

About ten forty-live Mendoza stepped into the lobby of the Liverpool Arms. The armchair behind the counter was empty; the inner door stood open.

Suddenly he felt that small cold bite up the spine that told him he was onto something, a new card was about to be handed him; and though he hadn't the remotest idea what it might be, he obeyed instinct blindly and stood still, making no move toward the counter.

The old shabby building was very silent at this time of night. From what he could see through the half-open door, the small room behind the counter was a storeroom of some kind; he had a glimpse of dusty shelves.

He heard the glassy clink of bottle on glass, and something was set down with a thud. A minute later Telfer the clerk came out and shut the door behind him. He moved with exaggerated care, and he was wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

Mendoza walked up to the counter. Telfer noticed him then and stood swaying only a little, smiling his yellow-snagged smile. ' 'D evening, sir,' he said. His eyes were glassy and there was the saccharine-sweet smell of

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