'I guess you have other things to think about. I specialize in keeping out of trouble.' He reached for a cigar, tossed one into Howard's lap and lit one for himself. 'Now tell me about this girl. Who killed her?'
'We don't know. The killer left no clues, but she must have known him. She was stabbed from in front with an ice-pick, and no one heard her cry out.'
'Last night, you say? There was a hell of a thunderstorm raging wasn't there? Would they have heard her if she had cried out?'
Howard had forgotten the storm and bit his lip angrily.
'That's right. They might not have heard her.'
'Who's handling the investigation?'
'Donovan, but I've told Adams to work on the side. Donovan has a description of a guy who could have done it.'
O'Brien got up and moved over to the liquor cabinet. Howard wasn't sure, but he had a vague idea that O'Brien had become suddenly tense.
'What's the description?'
'It's not much: youngish, about thirty-three, tall, dark and good-looking. Wearing a light-grey suit and matching hat.'
'Hmm, won't help you much, will it?' O'Brien said, bringing two more drinks to the table.
'It's better than nothing,' Howard said, taking the drink. 'A case like this is always tough to crack. There's usually no motive.'
O'Brien sat down again.
'This could give Burt an excuse to start trouble. Have you talked to Fabian yet?'
'Not yet. There's nothing he can do, anyway. It's up to me. If I find the killer fast we should be all right. What worried me was hearing the house was a call-house.'
O'Brien smiled.
'Well, I've taken care of that for you, so you can relax.'
'Yes,' Howard said uneasily. 'Are there any more call-houses belonging to you in town?'
'There may be,' O'Brien returned carelessly. 'I own a lot of property. There may be.'
'I have an idea Burt knows about you. It will be bad for us if he finds out about these call-houses of yours.'
'Thanks for reminding me,' O'Brien said, smiling. 'I know the position as well as you do.' He got to his feet. 'Well, Commissioner, I don't want to hurry you away, but I have a whale of a lot of things to do this morning. Keep me in touch. I'd like to have a copy of all reports to do with the killing. I want them fast, too. Have someone bring them to me as soon as they are typed, will you?'
Howard hesitated.
'I don't think our reports should leave headquarters: that would be contrary to regulations. Suppose I keep you informed personally?'
O'Brien's eyes hardened although he continued to smile.
'I want the reports, Commissioner,' he said quietly.
Howard made a little gesture with his hands.
'All right. I'll see you get them.'
'Thank you. You had better have a word with Fabian. Warn him Burt is almost certain to try to start something. It can't be much if you find the killer fast. Play the girl down to the press. She can be a nightclub hostess.'
'Yes.'
Howard walked with O'Brien to the front door.
'Is Donovan such a good man to put on this case?' O'Brien asked as he opened the door.
'Adams is working on it too.'
'Ah yes ... Adams. He's a smart cop. So long, Commissioner, thanks for calling, and let me have those reports.'
O'Brien stood in the doorway and watched Howard drive away, then he slowly closed the door and remained motionless, his face thoughtful.
Gilda, concealed behind the half-open door of O'Brien's study, felt a little chill of apprehension run through her at the hard, ugly set of O'Brien's mouth.
II
Detective Dave Duncan pasted a cigarette on his lower lip, scratched a match alight and lowered the cigarette end into his cupped hands.
He looked across the table at Sergeant Donovan who was finishing a ham sandwich, his heavy jaws moving slowly as he chewed, his face dark with thought.
Duncan had been a detective third for a long time. He had almost given up hope of promotion, but now he had been assigned to work with Donovan, he began to hope again. Not that Donovan rated high with him: but a murder case did give a guy a chance if he used his head.
