importances to which he had seemed so essential...
The telephone began to ring then in the outer office. Kendricks and Lazaroff had a few words with Jack Groom on their way out, and Simon caught April Quest's eye again and was moving towards her when Peggy Warden inнtercepted him.
'A Mr. Halliday's calling you.'
Simon went into the outer office and took the telephone.
'A fine thing,' said Dick Halliday. 'Don't you ever take a holiday?'
'I don't seem to have much chance,' said the Saint.
'Now I suppose you're out of a job again.'
'It looks like it. We've all just had a speech from a legal gent named Braunberg, and we're all out. But being treated right.'
'That's quite a break for Lazaroff and Kendricks,' Dick said. 'I hear that Goldwyn has been offering all kinds of money to get them back.'
A formation of butterflies looped and rolled in the Saint's stomach.
'But I thought he'd sworn they were never going to get another job in Hollywood.'
'I know. But you know what this town is like. It seems that Goldwyn read a story about how Zanuck hired a man who kicked his behind and told him he was a lousy producer, so now he wants to have a sense of humor too. Besides, the last job they did for him is a terrific success right now. So he wants to forgive them and double their salary.'
7
THE CONGREGATION had dispersed as easily as a puff of smoke. Simon glanced up and down an empty corridor, and went rapidly on to the stairs which led him out into the stucнco-reflected glare of Avenue A. He just caught a glimpse of what looked like the thin stooped back of Jack Groom vanishing into the doorway of the entrance lobby, and lengthнened his stride in pursuit.
It was Groom, but April Quest had already disappeared when Simon saw him. Instead of her, Lieutenant Condor was talking to him. The detective moved slothfully out in an effective blocking movement that would have made it impossible for the Saint to pass by with a nod.
'Well, Mr. Templar, what did you think of the will?'
'Interesting and original,' drawled the Saint. 'It should be quite a party. I suppose you knew about it already.'
'Yeah-I had a preview.'
'It's too bad there weren't a lot of heirs and legatees, isn't it?' Simon remarked. 'It would have made everything so nice and complicated.'
Condor nodded, with his toothpick wagging from his inнcisors.
'I guess the freed slaves will be all moved out from here tomorrow. You weren't thinking of leaving town, were you?'
'No, I think I'll stick around for a bit.'
Groom had been gazing at the Saint in aloof and somber silence.
'You shaved this morning,' he said at last, with an air of tired and pained discovery.
'I often do,' Simon admitted.
'I thought I asked you to start a moustache for this picнture.'
'I know. I remember. But since there ain't gonna be no picture--'
Condor moved his large feet.
'When you shaved this morning,' he said suddenly, 'how did you know there wasn't going to be a picture?'
No earthquake actually took place at that moment, but Siнmon Templar had the same feeling in his limbs as if the ground had started to shiver under him. He felt rather like a master duellist whose flawless guard has been thrown wide by a bludgeon wielded by an unconsidered spectator. But he was only stopped for an instant. He was lighting a cigнarette, and he brought the job to an unruffled completion while his reflexes used the pause to settle back into balance.
'I didn't know,' he said lightly. 'I was just trying to make Mr. Groom see that it doesn't really matter now. As a matter of fact I still wasn't sold on the idea, and I was going to argue about it some more.'
'The Saint would wear a moustache,' Mr. Groom insisted moodily.
His pale emaciated face seemed to be without triumph or maliciousness: he might have been quite unaware of having set a trap and caught a stumble.
'I hate to see you still worrying,' said the Saint. 'Didn't you hear Braunberg say that we were through with the picнture?'
'He didn't say that,' Groom corrected him. 'He said that we were through with Mr. Ufferlitz. There are still Mr. Ufferнlitz's backers. They've got a certain amount of money inнvested, and they might want to go on. It'd be a different set-up, of course.'
Condor's bright black eyes were still fixed on the Saint, and Simon knew it, but he was careful not to glance that way. He said to Groom: 'Would that mean that you'd still be the diнrector and you might step into Ufferlitz's job as well?'
'I don't know. It's possible,' Groom said vaguely.
'So this murder could be quite a break for you.'
The detective's eyes had changed their objective. Simon knew that, still without looking.
'What are you getting at?' said Groom.
'I'm just wondering how much this new set-up might be worth to you.'
'Isn't that rather insulting?'
The Saint's smile was charming.
'Maybe,' he said. 'But you can't find a murderer without insulting somebody. You hated Ufferlitz, didn't you?'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'You hated his guts,' said the Saint.
The director combed his fingers through his dank forelock and turned to Condor with a baffled gesture.
'I don't know what he's trying to make out, but he must want to put me in a bad light. He's making a mountain out of a molehill.'
'What was there between you and Ufferlitz?' Condor asked casually.
'If you don't want to do it,' said the Saint relentlessly, 'I don't mind telling him for you.'
After which he held his breath.
Groom said: 'It just shows what silly gossip will do. Ufferнlitz and I had a bit of a fight once at the Trocadero. I got into conversation with a girl at the bar, and apparently he had a date to meet her there. He'd been drinking. He got mad and made a scene.'
'And of course you beat the bejesus out of him,' Simon said gently.
Two faint red spots burned on Groom's pallid cheekbones.
'It was just one of those night-club brawls. He apologised later. It was just one of those things. That ought to be obvious. Otherwise I wouldn't have been working for him afterwards.'
'Do you know what I think?' asked the Saint, with such complete deliberation that the effrontery of what he was saying was almost too bland to grasp. 'I think you were on the make for his girl, and you were out of luck. I think he pushed your face in in front of everyone who was there. I think you've been nursing your humiliation ever since--'
'Then why did I go to work for him?' asked Groom, with surprising self-possession.
Simon knew that he was on a tightrope. He was bluffing his head off to get information, and it had worked up to a point, but he could be knocked off his precarious elevation with a feather. But once he had started, he couldn't stop.
'What did Ufferlitz have on you?' he retorted.
'You must be crazy.'
'Are you sure?'
'All right. You tell the Lieutenant this time.'
