'Never heard of him, Lieutenant. Sorry. Help you if I could.'
Adams nodded.
'That's too bad. Then I'll have to go from room to room until I find him.'
'I wouldn't do that, Lieutenant.'
Adams stared steadily at Cutler.
'That's what I'm going to do unless you tell me where I can find him.'
'The Captain wouldn't like it.'
'You have your lines snarled up,' Adams said. 'The Captain told me to talk to Yarde. This isn't a pinch. I just want information.'
Cutler hesitated.
'I don't like my best clients bothered, Lieutenant. I'd rather get it straight from the Captain.'
'Okay, if that's the way you feel about it,' Adams said, shrugging. 'I'll start in on the ground floor and work up, and I'd like to see you stop me! Don't blame me if your other clients get annoyed with you.'
'He's on the top floor, No. 10,' Cutler snarled, his face turning red.
'Thanks.'
Adams wandered over to the ancient elevator, got in, closed the gate and hauled on the rope that raised the evil-smelling cage up the equally evilsmelling shaft.
He was thankful when the elevator creaked to a standstill on the top floor. All the way up he had been expecting the rope to snap or the bottom of the cage to drop out.
Facing him was a long passage with doors every few yards. He walked to room 10, listened outside, then hearing no sound in the room, he rapped on the door. Nothing happened, and he rapped again.
The door opposite abruptly opened.
A girl in a blue-and-red silk wrap, her auburn hair about her shoulders, leaned against the door-post and showed him a long white leg and a wellrounded thigh through the opening in her wrap.
'He's out,' she said. 'If you want to wait, there's a chair in my room.'
'You're talking to a police officer,' Adams said mildly.
The girl wrinkled her nose, then lifted her shoulders.
'I can't afford to be fussy. The offer still stands.'
Adams joined her at the door.
'When did Yarde go out?'
'Last night. Is he in trouble?'
'Not that I know of. What time last night?'
'About eight. Are you coming in or are you just wasting my time?'
'I told you I was a police officer,' Adams said patiently. 'You are giving me evidence for an arrest.'
The girl giggled.
'Funny man! Didn't anyone tell you this joint's got protection?' She made a face at him and closed the door.
Adams scratched his chin thoughtfully, then moved back to room 10, turned the handle of the door and pushed speculatively. To his surprise the door swung open. He put his hand on the inside wall and groped for the light switch, found it and turned it down.
The disorder that met his eyes made him step quickly into the room and close the door.
The room looked as if it had been hit by a cyclone. Drawers were pulled out and their contents strewn over the floor. The bedding had been ripped: the mattress stuffing and the pillow feathers were all over the room. The two easy chairs had been ripped to pieces. Pictures had been taken down, and now lay on the floor, their backs torn off. The wardrobe door stood open: suits, shoes, shirts and underwear lay in a disordered heap before the wardrobe.
Someone had obviously been searching the room for something pretty important, Adams thought, and the search had been as thorough as it had been destructive.
He walked over to the telephone, lifted the receiver and, when he heard
Cutler's voice, he said, 'I want you. Come up.'
While he waited, he examined the room, but found nothing to interest him.
Cutler came in hurriedly. From the way he was breathing, Adams guessed he had run up the stairs.
When Cutler saw the disorder, he came to an abrupt standstill.
'For crying out loud!' he exclaimed.
'Why didn't you tell me Yarde was out?' Adams asked acidly.
'I didn't know he was,' Cutler said. 'What the hell's been going on here?'
