'Get in,' Adams said.
'But I don't understand,' Ken said blankly.
'Why should you? Get in!'
Ken got into the car and Adams drove off, heading for his own apartment. He didn't say anything until he pulled up outside a house in Cranbourne Avenue.
'I live here,' he said as he got out of the car. 'You can talk your head off in my apartment without interruption.'
Ken followed him into a ground-floor, comfortably furnished sittingroom.
'Make yourself at home,' Adams said, tossing his hat on to a chair. 'Have a drink?'
'I don't understand what all this is about,' Ken said, facing him. 'Why have you brought me here? I want to make a statement to the officer in charge of the murder. Who are you?'
Adams smiled as he fixed two highballs.
'I'm Lieutenant Adams of the Homicide Department. Take it easy. You don't know it yet, but the last thing you want to do is to make a statement to the officer in charge of the Carson killing. He's got a one-track mind. Now sit down and stop wasting time. I want your story. I want to know who you are, how you met Fay Carson and what happened last night. Don't rush it. I want as many details as you can remember. Now start talking.'
Ken made his statement. He told Adams what had happened the previous evening, omitting no details, and as he came to the end of his story there was something about the little Lieutenant's expression that gave him hope.
'I know I have behaved badly,' he concluded, 'and I'm paying for it, but I didn't kill her. I should have come to you before this, but I funked it. I wasn't so much thinking of myself, I had to think of my wife. I wanted to keep it from her, but I don't see how I can now.'
Adams stared at him for a long minute, then he pulled thoughtfully at his nose.
'If I were married, which fortunately I'm not,' he said, 'and if I had been mug enough to have gone to a callgirl, I would have acted as you did in the same circumstances.'
'Does that mean you believe me?' Ken asked eagerly.
Adams shrugged.
'It doesn't matter a damn if I believe you or not. The final word is with the jury. Now, let's check on a few details. You had no idea there was someone else in the apartment beside you until the lights went out?'
'No idea at all.'
'You didn't see this guy?'
'No. It was pitch dark. I heard him cross the room and bolt downstairs, but I hadn't a chance of seeing him.'
'You didn't hear her cry out?'
'There was a thunderstorm on. I don't think I should have heard her if she had cried out.'
'Hmm ...' Adams crossed one leg over the other, then asked, 'This fat guy with the Pekinese: is he bald with a hooked nose and pointed ears?'
Ken looked startled.
'Why, yes. That exactly describes him. Do you know him?'
'I know him,' Adams said. 'You don't have to worry about him. He won't give you any trouble. He's only been out of jail six months. You can forget about him.'
'You mean he was bluffing?'
'Sure,' Adams said, and took a cautious sip from his glass. 'He saw you last night going up and coming down. He might have seen this other guy. Did you ask him?'
Ken shook his head.
'I didn't think of it.'
'I'll ask him,' Adams said grimly. 'You've told me everything? There's nothing else you can remember?'
'I don't think so,' Ken said, thought for a moment, then he remembered the tall, fair man who had ducked out of sight when he and Fay had come out of the Blue Rose. 'There was a guy outside the Blue Rose I noticed. He seemed anxious not to be seen. He was tall and fair and good-looking. When he saw I had spotted him, he ducked back out of sight.'
Adams frowned.
'Tall, fair and good-looking?' he asked, and he was thinking of Johnny
Dorman. 'Would you know him again?'
'I think so. The light wasn't too good, but I think I would.'
'Nothing else?'
Ken shook his head.
There was a long silence, then Ken asked, 'Do you believe my story, Lieutenant?'
'Sure, it hangs together and makes sense, but don't kid yourself that puts you in the clear. You're in a hell of a jam; a far worse jam than you imagine.'
