He stopped short, looking at Parker who came up the path in the gathering dusk, his head held low, a stoop to his shoulders.
'I want to talk to you,' he said as he came up to Ken.
'Come in,' Ken said, and led the way into the lounge. He turned on the light. 'I'm sorry the place is in such a mess. I lost something, and I've been hunting for it.'
Parker went over to an armchair and sank into it. His fat, usually red face looked flabby and pale, and his hands were unsteady as he rested them on the arms of the chair.
'If you've got a drink . . .' he said.
'Sure,' Ken said, and fixed two highballs. 'That detective fellow was here. He wanted your address. I tried to call you, but he got around to you too fast.'
Parker stared at him in a disconcerting, searching way. Ken gave him the highball and then moved awkwardly to an armchair and sat down.
'What happened?' he asked after a long pause.
'They didn't get anything out of me,' Parker said, his voice flat and cold. 'I stuck to my story. I damn well had to. The sergeant said I was lying; he said I called Fay. I told him to prove it. He didn't rattle me, but he had a damn good try. When he saw he was getting nowhere, he said he didn't think I had killed her - that's nice, isn't it? He hoped I might know who her men friends were. I knew I didn't dare admit I knew her. I swore I hadn't called her. He said no other call had been made from the pay booth at the time I said I had called Maisie. I guessed by the way he talked no one but you had seen me use the booth, so I said I might have been mistaken about the time. I said it was possible I had called Maisie earlier than ten. So he said he would talk to Maisie.' Parker took a long drink, wiped his face and stared down at his feet. 'That was a pretty horrible ten minutes. I don't think I'll ever forget waiting in the garden with the other detective while the sergeant talked to Maisie. She was terrific. She must have guessed I had got myself into a mess. She lied her head off. She told the sergeant I had called her just after nine, and not after ten as I had said. The sergeant must have been a first-class fool. He actually told her I had called her at ten. She was so emphatic that he believed her. He even apologized to me.'
Ken relaxed back in his chair.
'I can't say how glad I am . . .'
Again Parker gave him the odd, searching stare.
'When they had gone, I told Maisie the truth,' he said slowly. 'She's taken it pretty hard.'
'You didn't tell her about the girl? That you and she . . .?'
'I had to. She knew I had lied to the sergeant. I couldn't look her in the face and lie to her. She asked -me bluntly if I had been fooling around with Fay. I had to admit it.'
Ken realized that if Ann had put the same question to him, he would have been unable to lie to her.
'I'm sorry . . .'
'Yes.' Parker ran his hand over his face. 'She's taken it pretty hard. Of course her mother heard all about it. She made things damned difficult. This could break up my home.'
'I can't say how sorry I am.'
'Well, I brought it on myself. It's damned funny, but I felt so safe with Fay. I thought I could get away with it. What a fool I've been!' He looked up suddenly and stared hard at Ken. 'But that's enough about me. I'm not going to talk any more about my troubles. There's something else I want to say. The sergeant gave me a description of the man they want. They think he killed Fay. I've been thinking about what he said.' He leaned forward and went on, 'Are you quite sure, Holland, that you didn't go to Fay's apartment last night?'
Ken's heart skipped a beat, then raced. He felt himself change colour. He made a desperate attempt to meet Parker's eyes, but he couldn't do it. To hide his fear, he reached for a cigarette; lit it, then said, his voice hoarse and shaky, 'I don't know what you're driving at, Max. I've told you before: I spent the evening here.'
Parker continued to stare at him.
'I think you're lying,' he said. 'Did you go to her apartment?'
'I tell you I didn't!' Ken cried, starting to his feet.
'Good God!' Parker said, his face turning pale. 'When he gave me the description it occurred to me it fitted you. I wondered if you had done it, but I couldn't believe you had. Now I know you did it!'
Ken felt so frightened he could scarcely breathe.
'They said they were looking for a tall, dark, good-looking man around thirty,' Parker went on, his voice shrill. 'He wore a grey suit and a grey hat. They said he owned a shabby green Lincoln.' He got unsteadily to his feet. 'Goddamn it! It must be you! You've got guilt written all over your face!'
The two men stared at each other, both shaking. Ken frightened; Parker horrified.
'I didn't do it!' Ken blurted out. 'You've got to believe me, Max. I swear I didn't do it!'
'I don't want to hear anything about it!' Parker said violently. 'I don't know what you've been up to, but whatever it is, you've got to keep me out of it. Do you understand ? I know I gave you her telephone number, but for God's sake, don't tell the police that. You've already ruined my home. If it gets out I gave you her phone number, I'll lose my job as well. I'll be smeared over every newspaper in the country. You've got to keep me out of it!'
'I tell you I didn't do it!' Ken caught hold of Parker's arm. 'You've got to believe me!'
Parker shook him off and backed away.
'It doesn't matter a damn if I believe you or not. That's for the police to decide. Sooner or later they'll catch up with you. They have your description. They'll find you before long, and when they do, you've got to keep quiet about me. Do you understand?'
'Oh, shut up about yourself!' Ken said, suddenly furious. 'All you think about is yourself. What about
