Madge and Van Roche were already at their desks. Madge was typing busily. Van was scribbling notes on a pad, a cigarette in his mouth, his eyes screwed up to avoid the smoke as it spiralled past his face.
'You've got a visitor, Paul,' he said, pushing the pad aside. He jerked his thumb to the door to the little ante-room that was used for interviews. 'And you'll never guess who.'
Conrad put his brief-case on the desk and reached for a cigarette from the box that stood by the telephone.
'I don't want to see any visitors this morning. Who is it?'
'Flo Presser.'
Conrad looked up sharply, his eyebrows climbing.
'You kidding?'
Van grinned.
'Go ahead and see for yourself. Come to that you've only to take a sniff at the keyhole to have the fact confirmed. I reckon she must have had a bath of Last Night's Kiss or whatever the stuff's called. She fairly hums with it.'
'Flo Presser? At this hour? What does she want?'
'She's lost her boy friend. She wants you to find him.'
'Why the hell didn't you tell her I was busy? Get rid of her, Van. I've got other things to do than to bother my head about her. Tell her to go to the police.'
'Know who her boy friend is?' Van asked, his face suddenly serious.
'No. Who is he?'
'Toni Paretti.'
Conrad frowned. The name sounded familiar.
'Well, what about him?'
'He happens to be Maurer's chauffeur and bodyguard,' Van said quietly. 'I thought maybe you'd want to talk to her.'
Conrad took a long drag at his cigarette, then blew smoke to the ceiling.
'That's right; of course he is.' He got to his feet. 'Did she give you any details?'
'They had a date the night before last. He called her around five o'clock and told her he had a job to do. He said he would meet her at eleven o'clock at Sam's Bar on Lennox Street. She waited until two o'clock, and then went home. Yesterday morning she kept calling his apartment, but couldn't get a reply. She went round there in the afternoon. He wasn't there. She asked around, but no one had seen him. She went to Sam's Bar in the evening and waited, but he didn't show up. This morning she decided something must have happened to him, so she's come here.'
'What does she expect us to do?'
'She wants us to find him.'
'Didn't it cross her mind he's tired of her and has walked out on her?' Conrad asked.
'Didn't seem to, and it didn't occur to me either. I can't imagine a rat like Paretti walking out on Flo. She's a gold mine. It's not as if she's like the usual run of tarts. She makes money, Paul from what I hear: good money, and I can't imagine Paretti passing up an income as good as she can provide.'
'He could have found another girl,' Conrad returned. 'But what foxes me is why should she come here. Why didn't she go to the police?'
Van concealed a grin.
'That's exactly what I asked her, and she said you were a gentleman and she trusted you. I won't tell you what she said about the police.'
Conrad sighed.
'Well, I'm not going to waste much time on her.'
He crossed the room, opened the sound-proof door that led into the anteroom.
A blast of cloying perfume enveloped him as he stepped into the room, and he grimaced.
Flo Presser was pacing up and down, a cigarette between her scarlet lips. She was a good-looking girl, around twenty-five, with a provocative figure, brassy blonde hair and big money-hungry eyes.
She swung around as Conrad came in. Her full skirt swirled out and then moulded itself for a brief moment around her long slender thighs.
'Hello, Flo,' Conrad said. He had met her often enough in the court room. She was regularly arrested for soliciting, and she had got to know most of the officials connected with the court. 'What's on your mind?'
'Gee! Mr. Conrad,' Flo said, coming over to him. 'I didn't think you'd mind me coming like this. I'm worried stiff. I know I shouldn't be bothering you. I know how busy you are. I thought I'd go nuts last night wondering about Toni, and this morning . . .'
'Okay, skip the song and dance,' Conrad said impatiently. He sat on the edge of the table. 'You shouldn't have come here, Flo, but now you're here, let's keep it brief. What makes you so sure Toni hasn't walked out on you?'
Flo's big brown eyes opened wide.
'Walked out on me? Why, Mr. Conrad, he wouldn't do that. Besides, I know he hasn't.'
'How do you know?'
She hesitated, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes.
'You'll keep this to yourself, won't you, Mr. Conrad? If Toni knew I'd come to you, he would skin me.'
