Fast Buck

run through half the old man’s fortune already. Without warning he suddenly turns up here. The insurance companies have the idea he’s over here to contact Hater. They think he’s going to do a deal with Hater somehow or other.’

Olin stared.

‘What sort of deal?’

‘They think Hater would be glad to sel the stuff back to the Rajah at a price. They argue the Rajah could get rid of it far easier than Hater could. From what they hear about the Rajah they think he’s quite capable of sticking to both the jewels and the insurance money. Personally, I think it’s a lot of phooey, but you can’t tell these insurance birds anything. They’ve hired us to watch the Rajah, and report to them who he’s seeing while he’s here. Up to now the only two he has seen are the man and woman who left his hotel in this LaSalle. I want to know who they are.’

‘Wel , I guess I’d better do something about it,’ Olin said, reaching for his phone. ‘Purvis has done me a lot of good in the past. How is the lug, anyway?’

‘Just the same,’ Dal as said gloomily. ‘Doesn’t spend a nickel more than he can help, and stil thinks a woman’s place is in the kitchen, and no place else.’

‘That’s Purvis al right. He gave me a box of cigars last Christmas I swear he made himself.’

‘You can consider yourself lucky,’ Dal as said, grinning. ‘He didn’t give me a thing. How about a little action on that car number? I haven’t got all night.’

Olin spoke into the phone, listened, waited, grunted and hung up.

‘The car belongs to a bird named Preston Kile. He has a house on Roosevelt Boulevard which puts him in the money. Does that help you?’

‘Not much. You wouldn’t like to ask Records if they’ve anything on him?’

Olin sighed, dialled, spoke again into the phone. While he waited, Dallas crossed over to the window and stared down at the two-way stream of traffic flooding the main street. He spotted the Herald truck unloading a pile of newspapers at the corner. The boy snatched them from the driver and began running along the sidewalk, yelling excitedly.

‘Looks like your murder’s hit the headlines,’ he said.

‘It’s going to make a sweet stink,’ Olin said, grimacing. He spoke into the telephone again, then hung up. ‘We’ve got nothing on Kile. We don’t know him.’

‘Wel , okay and thanks,’ Dal as said. ‘I guess I’l have to do a lit le more leg work. This job gives me the hives. So long, George. Hope you find your killer.’

‘I will,’ Olin said, scowling. ‘The drag-net’s out for him now. It’s just a mat er of time. If your job gives you the hives, my job gives me ulcers. So long. Drop in when I’m too busy to see you.’

Dallas grinned and walked quickly along the corridor, down the stairs to the street. He took another taxi to the Herald offices, made his way through a maze of corridors to Huntley Favell’s office, rapped and pushed open the door.

Favell was the Herald’s gossip column writer. He made it his business to know everything about anyone in town whose income ran into four figures.

Dallas was a little startled to find Favell and a pretty red-haired girl wrapped together in an embrace worthy of the best traditions of Hollywood. They sprang apart on seeing Dallas, and the girl slid past him, her face scarlet, and fled from the office.

Favell, completely unruffled, eyed Dallas coldly. He was a tall, thin Adonis, with a Barrymore profile, who lived well above his income and was glad to augment his earnings by selling information to the International whenever the opportunity arose.

‘Don’t you know bet er than to burst into a private office like that?’ he asked tartly as he sat down behind his desk.

‘I wasn’t thinking,’ Dal as said, grinning. ‘Accept my apologies. The next time I’ll let off my gun before coming in.’

‘There’s no need to be facetious,’ Favell said, wiping his mouth careful y with a handkerchief. He eyed the smear of lipstick that appeared on the handkerchief with a grimace of displeasure and tucked the handkerchief away. ‘And don’t go get ing any wrong ideas,’ he went on, distantly. ‘She had something in her eye.’

‘Sure. I always get things out of a girl’s eye in the same way.’ Dal as sat on the edge of the desk and offered Favell his cigarette-case. ‘I dropped in for a little information.’

Favell’s acid face brightened, but he didn’t say anything. He lit the cigaret e, leaned back in his chair and waited.

‘Know anything about a guy named Preston Kile?’ Dal as asked.

Favell seemed surprised.

‘Why? Is he in trouble?’

‘Not to my knowledge. I spotted him with a blonde who interested me. Is he likely to be in trouble?’

‘He’s seldom out of it,’ Favel said. ‘I haven’t time to waste talking to you, Dal as. I’ve got my column to polish up.’

Dallas took out his wallet, selected two tens and dropped them on the desk.

‘That should cover five minutes of your precious time,’ he said. ‘I want to know as much about Kile as you can tell me.’

Favell hurriedly pocketed the bills.

‘I don’t know a great deal,’ he said, relaxing. ‘By the way, you can keep your trap shut about that red-head. She