I shut my eyes and let my brain sort it out.
“Why do you think he brought me to Hughson's and then walked out on me?”
“Curtis think a lot of you?” I asked.
She looked uncomfortable. “He has been rather pressing,” she admitted. “But then, he's like that with most girls.”
I could think of a number of reasons why Curtis had taken her to Hughson's, but I wasn't going to tell her. Suppose Spencer had planned to get rid of her and Curtis knew about it? If this guy was a little soft on her, and I'm not blaming him if he was, he'd probably hang around with her to see that nothing happened. Once she was round at Hughson's place, he might think she was safe for a while. Then this other dame rings him up and he has to get out and leave her.
It struck me Mardi wasn't any too safe running around at large. The point was to find out how much she knew.
I said quietly, “Suppose I tell you all about this business, then maybe you can see where you fit in.”
“Do I fit in anywhere?”
I grinned. “Yeah, I'm afraid you do.” I lit another cigarette and got down to it. “I wantta put this to you just like you knew nothing about it. Maybe if I put it to you like that, you might get a slant on it. To start at the beginning. Larry Richmond was shot to death almost a year ago. This guy Was a rich playboy who called himself the President of the Mackenzie Fabrics. He was no more President than I am, but that don't matter for the moment. His chief job seemed to be peddling the stock of the company to his rich friends. Well, he succeeded, not because he was a good salesman, but because the shares were worth having. They kept climbing and everyone was happy. The Mackenzie Fabrics was a blind for some illegal racket, with a list of shareholders including the Police Commissioner and the Customs officials. Richmond was playin' a cagy hand. As everyone was gettin' a share under a strictly legal guise, no one was going to kick. Okay, that's the first set-up. The fact that Richmond never showed up at the office and just fooled around spending the dough points to Spencer being the guy who runs the racket.” I got up to give myself a drink.
Mardi sat quite still. Her face was a little pale and she looked tired. It was getting on towards three o'clock, but I'd got to get this thing sorted out.
“Then Richmond gets bumped. Very unfortunate this, because Spencer did the bumping. I guess he was getting tired of doing all the work and seeing Richmond doin' all the spending. If Spencer took the rap the lid would come off Mackenzie Fabrics all right. That wouldn't please the shareholders. I don't know, but I can guess what happened. They all got around and wagged their heads about this and came to the only conclusion. Someone had to be the fall-guy.
“Now Richmond played around with the dames. As long as the dame was a looker, she was okay by him. He was fooling around with a floozie of the streets just before he was knocked off, and this bird usually ran around with a guy named Vessi, a real twelve-minute egg. What could be simpler? Vessi is the Fall-guy. They frame that bohunk so fast he's dizzy in the head. The cops frame him, Spencer frames him, the lawyers frame him, and the judge frames him. So he's framed. Just like that. To make matters safe an' sound, they get his moll to frame him.
“This is where I come in. The case to me was just a sordid bit of shooting with no news angle for my particular stuff. One night a dame rings up and tells me she's sending round a ticket that'll let me in to see Vessi's execution. She tells me that Vessi will give me an angle on this business, and she will pay me ten grand to explode the frame. This dame is plenty steamed up. Before I can turn it down she rings off.
“Okay, I'm the mug. I go along and see Vessi have a nose-full. Before he hands in his pail, he tells me that Spencer pulled the shootin'. I pass the news on to the mystery woman, who sends me five grand as an act of good faith. Before I can lay my hands on the dough, Blondie, that's Vessi's late moll, nips into my room and grabs it. I do a bit of Philo Vance stuff and track this moll to her lair. We have a few words and then in blows Katz. Now Katz is Spencer's bodyguard. A guy that walks around loaded up with shooting-irons and itching to use 'em. All he seems keen about is to find out who's been staking me to start trouble. This guy gets plenty tough so I tell him a story that's not quite true but which he falls for.
“I then do some thinking and decide that I'm not interested. I'm a peace-lovin' guy an' this seems too exciting. Anyway, why the hell should I worry about Vessi? He was just a small-time crook. So when the dame comes on the 'phone again I tell her I'm through.
“This dame interests me. I want to know who she is. I had a bad break the other day. I nearly ran into her but just missed it. I won't go into that now, but maybe I'll tell you about it later. The next excitement is you. I wanted to see a little more of you, and when I heard you were missing I got worried. I got still more worried when this dame rings up and hints that I'll find you in trouble at an old east-side wharf.
“I go along there and have an argument with three guys, and instead of finding you I run into Blondie again. She also is on her way out of town. Then I run into you, and I guess that's where I stop.” I sat back with a sigh of relief.
Mardi said: “I believe I can help you. There are a lot of things I couldn't understand which now I think I could fit into the puzzle.”
“Suppose we look at it from this angle ” I began.
She smiled at me. “Could it wait until to-morrow?” she asked. “I'm so tired. Look at the time. I feel as if I shall go to sleep right here in this chair.”
I got up quickly. “Sure,” I said. “I guess I'm over-anxious. You get some sleep.. We can talk over what you're goin' to do and all about this business to-morrow.”
She got out of the chair slowly and stretched. Standing there in front of the electric stove, the strong reflection of the elements outlining her legs through her dress, her grand little head back, and her arms raised a little, she looked good. I wanted to put my arms round her. It was tough going not to start anything.
I said: “Through there is the bedroom. You go ahead. You get some sleep.”
She said sleepily: “Can I borrow things from you?”
I went ahead of her and fished out a pair of my pyjamas and my dressing-gown. I tossed them on the bed.
