given her the signal to start playing me for a live one had given me a false sense of security.
Channing thought things over for a while, then tossed the wallet across the desk so it lit in my lap.
“Put it away,” he said. “I don’t want you to think we’d take anything by force here. You’ll find that everything’s in your wallet. I just wanted to look at it — and it’s a damned good thing I did.”
“Okay,” I said, “what do we do next?”
“We wait.”
I said, “I was having a bottle of champagne with your come-on out there. I suppose the champagne is still waiting. It—”
“Don’t mention it, Lam,” he said magnanimously, “there’ll be no charge. In fact, I’ll have it brought in here. I may want to use it for a christening.”
“What christening?”
“I think I’ll pour it all over you and christen you the heel of the week.”
“That won’t get you any place.”
“Shut up, I want to think.”
We were silent for a while, then a loudspeaker said, “Bill is at the door. He says to tell you he has a man with him.”
Channing said, “Tell him to take the guy into office number two and plug in the sound connection. Question him in there. You can help him with the questions. I want to find out who this guy is and what he’s doing around here.”
“I suppose,” Channing said, turning to me, “you have one of your agency men with you.”
I said nothing.
“You’re a communicative cuss, aren’t you?”
“My clients pay me to get information, not to give it.”
“Who are your clients, by the way?”
I grinned at him.
“I wonder,” he said softly, almost to himself, “if Irene is just a little smarter than we’ve been thinking she is.”
I still said nothing.
“If Irene wants to make any trouble,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “it would be a dirty, nasty mess — for her. She wouldn’t get anything out of it. Make no mistake, Lam, I’ve taken over here and that’s final. There isn’t the scratch of a pen that ties George Bishop into this thing. There isn’t anyone who can show this isn’t my business built with my money, and there isn’t any way of passing this thing on to George’s widow. She wouldn’t stand one chance in a million.”
He waited for a few minutes, then said, “I wish I knew whether you were working for her or not.”
Abruptly a light flashed. Channing reached over and tripped a switch. He said to me, “We can hear what goes on in the other room but they can’t hear what’s said in here.”
Almost instantly a voice said, “All right, buddy, let’s have it. What’s your name?”
“My name is Danby, and I didn’t want to come in here. I’m going to make charges against you. You can’t hustle me around like this. That’s kidnaping.”
“Danby, eh? What do you do?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Let’s take a look for a driving license.”
There was the sound of a brief scuffle and another voice said, “Okay, this is it. Frank Danby. Here’s his social security number and—”
“What’s the address on that driving license?”
“A yacht club.”
“Good Lord, I get it now,” Channing said, coming up out of the chair as though the thing had been wired.
He crossed the room, jerked the door open, and was out like a shot.
I got up and crossed over to the desk.
He’d taken the revolver with him.
I gave every drawer in the desk a quick frisking. There wasn’t another gun anywhere in the place. There was a box of .38 shells, a pipe, a tobacco pouch, and a can of tobacco. There were two packages of cigarettes, a box of cigars, some chewing gum, and a bottle of fountain-pen ink.
Aside from that .38-caliber gun it was a desk that the police could have prowled through any day in the week, and welcome.
Abruptly I heard Channing’s voice from the other room. “What’s the trouble?”
Danby’s voice, surly and defiant, said, “I’ve been kidnaped. Who are you?”
“Kidnaped!” Channing exclaimed.
“That’s what I said. This guy made me come in here with him. He had a gun in his pocket.”
Channing said, “What’s all this, Bill?”
Bill’s voice said, “No gun, just a lead pencil. For a gag I pushed the end of this lead pencil against the cloth of the coat pocket.”
“But what was the trouble?” Channing asked.
“No trouble except this guy has been sitting out front getting a line on everyone coming in. I figured he’s a stickup guy, waiting for some dough-heavy customer to come out. Then he’d follow and stick ‘em up.”
“That’s serious,” Channing said. “We’d better turn him in.”
“You’re nuts,” Danby growled, but his voice showed he was frightened. “You’ve got nothing on me. I was hired to come out to point out a guy.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know, but when I recognized Mr. Catlin, this fellow left me and came on in.”
Channing’s booming laugh was good-natured. “Oh, shucks, that must have been Donald Lam.”
“That’s the guy,” Danby said. “His name is Lam. He told me if he didn’t get out inside of an hour to call a friend.”
Channing said, laughing, “That’s a shame. He left a message for you and I intended to deliver it, but I had no idea it was — Why, he said you were his chauffeur.”
“What did he say?”
“Lam found the man he wanted to see here and they went out the back way. He thought at first this fellow might make trouble and that’s why he told you about calling the friend. But there wasn’t any trouble and Lam left. Seems he’s a private detective. I didn’t know whether you knew. I’ve known Lam for ten years and he’s all right, straight as a string.”
“What was his trouble with Mr. Catlin?” Danby asked.
“No trouble with Catlin. Catlin was helping Lam. Catlin was to point out the guy Lam wanted. I should have notified you sooner, but I’ve been busy. Lam told me to tell you either to drive the car back to the yacht club, or to telephone for a taxicab, whichever you wanted to do. He left me five dollars to give you to pay for the cab. He’s been gone about twenty minutes.”
“Do I get the five-spot if I drive the car back to the yacht club or only if I take a taxi?” Danby asked.
I knew then I was sunk. There was no use waiting to hear any more. I started prowling, trying to find a way out.
I looked around the desk for buttons I could press that would unlatch the door. I tried to remember just what Channing had been doing before he streaked across the office.
Abruptly the door swung open. I felt certain I’d pressed the right button and was halfway across the office before I realized the door was being opened from the outside.
Bill was coming back in. Apparently Channing had given him a signal.
Bill grinned at me and said, “Sit down, Lam.”
I tried to duck around past him and grab the door before it closed.
Bill snaked out an arm, caught me by the back of the coat, spun me around, clamped his fingers around my sore wrist, and said, “Right in that chair, Lam.”
I hit him in the stomach with everything I had. Sheer surprise made him recoil. That and the force of the blow
