'How do you know he hasn't walked out on you?' Conrad repeated.
'I'm looking after his bank roll,' she said after a pause. 'I shouldn't be talking about it, but Toni wouldn't go off leaving me with five grand, not that he ever would leave me.'
Conrad looked at her, a sudden thoughtful expression in his eyes. She was right. He knew a little of Paretti's record. If Paretti were going to leave Flo, he would make sure he collected his money first.
'Do you imagine anything's happened to him?'
She nodded.
'Something must have. He might have been run over or something.'
'He was going to meet you the night before last: is that right?'
'Yes. He called me around five and said he couldn't meet me as arranged. He had a job to do.'
'What was the job?'
She shook her head.
'He didn't say.'
'He told you he had a job to do and nothing else? What were his exact words?'
'He said, 'The boss wants me to do a job. I'll see you at Sam's Bar at eleven.' That's what he said, and I haven't seen him since.'
'What time were you going to meet him before he put you off?'
'Seven o'clock.'
He studied her.
'Why did you come to me, Flo?'
Her eyes shifted away from his direct stare.
'There wasn't anyone else I could go to. I wouldn't get any sense out of the coppers. They don't like Toni anyway. I asked around and no one could tell me anything, and I got more and more worried and I thought of you. You've always been nice to me, Mr. Conrad, and I thought . . .'
'Okay, skip it,' Conrad said. 'Toni works for Maurer, doesn't he?'
A blank, remote expression came into Flo's eyes. She half turned away to drop her cigarette into the trash- basket.
'I don't know who Toni works for. He's never told me.'
'Don't give me that stuff. It's Maurer, isn't it?'
She swung round to face him, her face hard.
'I tell you I don't know! Don't start acting the copper with me, Mr. Conrad. I've always looked on you as a friend.'
Conrad shrugged.
'Okay, Flo. I'll make some inquiries. I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do. Where can I reach you?'
Her face brightened.
'I knew you would, Mr. Conrad! I said to myself . . .'
'Where can I reach you?' Conrad repeated impatiently.
'23c 144th Street. Why don't you come up one night and see me, Mr. Conrad? I'll give you a good time: honest I will, and it won't cost you a thing.'
Conrad laughed.
'That's no way to talk to a respectably married man, Flo,' he said, edging her to the door. 'But thanks for the offer just the same.'
'First time I've ever heard a married man was respectable,' she returned. 'And I should know.' She paused in the doorway that led directly into the passage. 'You'll let me know as soon as you find out something, won't you, Mr. Conrad?'
'Sure. I'll be in touch with you before long.' He edged her into the passage. 'Be seeing you,' and he closed the door.
'Pretty nearly gassed, weren't you?' Van asked as Conrad came back into his office.
'Yeah, pretty strong.' There was a hard, tense light in Conrad's eyes. 'Madge, have we got a file on Paretti?'
'Yes.' Madge got up and went over to the filing cabinet. She found the file and brought it over to Conrad.
'Thanks.'
He opened the file and settled down to read its meagre contents while Van watched him with alert interest.
'Not much here,' Conrad said after a few minutes. 'He's had two convictions; neither of them amounted to much, and believe it or not, he's been arrested twenty-seven times. Listen to this: seven arrests for homicide,
