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thanks.
“We’ve found your car,” he said.
“You have?” Della’s expression was a nice blend of surprise and admiration. “Why, that’s
quick work, Captain.”
“It was easy,” Hame said, and his cold, blue eyes brooded over her face. “A report came in
last night, and when Nick phoned this morning it clinched it.”
“Clinched - what?”
“There was a smash on the road out of Pelotta last night. Both drivers were killed. One of
them was driving your car. It’s completely burned out.”
Her look of startled consternation was just right.
“Burned out? Paul will be furious!”
“Yeah, that was a swell car,” Hame said, stroking his heavy jowl. “How come you give this
fella a ride?”
While Della was going through the story again, Reisner came over to me.
“What’ll you drink? Scotch?”
Without thinking I said, “I don’t touch the stuff. I’ll have a beer.”
The black eyes surveyed me. “I thought you lived on Scotch.”
Then I remembered Ricca was a whisky-soak and my heart skipped a beat.
“I’m on the wagon now. I’ve taken up beer.”
I don’t know if he spotted my shifty look, but his face was expressionless as he opened a
can of beer.
Hame was saying, “Dangerous to give a stranger a ride, Mrs. Wertham. You should know
that.”
“I had Johnny with me. It never crossed my mind.”
I thought it was time I showed a little interest in the proceedings.
“Who was the guy, anyway?”
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Both Reisner and Hame looked at me.
“There wasn’t much left of him by the time we got him out of the car,” Hame said, “but
he’s been identified. His name is Johnny Farrar: a third-rate fighter who was hitch-hiking his
way to Miami. He stopped off at Pelotta and got himself a fight at the stadium. After the fight
he disappeared. He must have taken a liking to the Bentley.”
“You certainly have collected a lot of information fast,” I said. “Nice work.”
“Nothing to it, once you know how and have got the organization,” Hame said, lifting his
massive shoulders. “Farrar had a silver medallion in his pocket. A woman who runs a cafe in
Pelotta gave it to him. She identified it, and a guy named Brant, who gave Farrar a suit of
clothes, identified what was left of the suit.”
“Well, I don’t give a damn who he was,” Della said. “It’s the car I’m worrying about. Paul
will be furious. He had the body specially built.”
“Just one of those things,” Reisner said. “I’ve contacted the insurance people. They’ve
agreed to settle.”
“Thank you, Nick.”
“Just to keep the record straight,” Hame said, looking at me, “can you give me a description
of Farrar? I have one from Brant and this woman. I’d like to see if it checks with your man.”
I hadn’t thought of that angle. Did they suspect I was Farrar ? For a moment I was
flustered.
Della cut in smoothly before I could think what to say.
“Funnily enough he wasn’t unlike Johnny to look at: same build, fair and tall. He wore a
