purse to take out a sheet of paper and read the address in Michael Shayne's handwriting aloud to the driver.
NINE: 10:34 PM
The parking place in front of the Hibiscus Hotel was still empty, and Paulson parked his car there in practically the same place it had been before. He sat behind the wheel for some time before getting out, lighting a cigarette and drawing on it strongly, his features showing brooding worriment each time he sucked in.
He threw the cigarette butt away finally, and got out, indicating a certain reluctance and distaste for what he felt he must do.
He hesitated beside the car for a moment, reaching inside his coat to settle the Army automatic snugly and inconspicuously against his left groin and checking to see that his coat was buttoned over it. Then he squared his shoulders and went toward the lighted entrance to the hotel.
The clerk was behind the desk, leaning on his elbows with his sharp chin cupped in his hands. Beyond him, Paulson saw Evelyn's profile in front of her switchboard, a discontented frown on her rather pretty face as she contemplated the sickening waste of these two hours during which she might just as well have been with Roger.
At the elevator beyond the desk, the operator lounged outside the open door of his car in conversation with the only bellboy in sight.
It all looked completely dull and normal, not at all as though there had been any murders or alarms of murder recently, and Paulson was encouraged to cross to the desk casually and lean one elbow on it in a negligent sort of way when Dick snapped to attention behind it.
'Do you have a Miss Paulson registered here?' Paulson forestalled Dick's automatic motion of reaching for the registry pad and a pen.
Dick said, 'Yes, sir, we do,' looking at the tall man and his scarred face with intense interest.
'Is she in now?'
'No, sir. I'm afraid she isn't.'
'Any reason why you should be so sure without trying her room?'
Dick permitted himself a faint smile. There were several very good reasons why he was certain that the occupant of 316 was not in her room, but he had no intention of revealing them to this stranger. With a trace of hauteur, he said. 'I'm quite sure she's out. However, there's a house phone if you wish to call her room.'
Paulson shook his head. 'Any idea when she'll be in?'
'None.'
Paulson ostentatiously grimaced at this. 'I'm her brother,' he explained carefully. 'Just drove in from Jacksonville to see Nellie on a rather important matter. She had promised to be here when I arrived.'
'I see. I'm very sorry, but-' Dick smiled thinly. Her brother? He wondered.
Paulson shrugged. 'Doubtless she'll be in soon. I'm tired after a long drive. I suppose it'll be all right if I go up to her room to wait for her?'
Dick hesitated. Normally, he would not have refused such a request-whether the man in question pretended to be her brother or not. After all, the Hibiscus was no different from any other respectable, middle-class hotel. They didn't attempt to ride herd on the morals of their guests. Nellie Paulson had had other men visitors in her room during her two-week stay.
But the situation tonight was not quite normal. There was that unexplained telephone call at nine-thirty which either had or hadn't stated there was a murdered man in
Miss Paulson's room-depending on whether Evelyn had misunderstood 316 for 360 or not. And there was the more recent call from outside (promptly reported by Evelyn) inquiring about bodies disappearing from 316.
He said, 'I'm afraid that would be quite against our rules, sir. We'll be very glad to have you make yourself comfortable here in the lobby while you wait.'
Paulson smiled and said quietly, 'I wouldn't blame you for taking that attitude if I weren't her brother. But I am, and I can prove it.' He got out his wallet and withdrew an insurance identification card which he laid on the desk.
Dick glanced at it and nodded slowly. It looked all right. He said, 'It wasn't that I doubted your word, sir. It's just that we do have these rules.' He hesitated a moment. With everything that had happened, he decided Ollie had better take the responsibility of this. He handed the card back and said briskly, 'Perhaps you'd like to speak to our Mr. Patton. I really don't have the authority-' He turned his head to Evelyn, 'Ask Mr. Patton to step out here a moment, please.'
Evelyn's eyes were rounded on Paulson's scarred face as she obeyed. What was this all about? She hadn't been able to overhear the conversation at the desk, but anything that needed Ollie's attention might prove very interesting. What with dead bodies that weren't there and all, maybe she wasn't going to mind missing her date with Roger so much after all.
Paulson nodded pleasantly at Dick's suggestion, negligently lit a cigarette and waited. When Patton came around the corner from his office, Dick introduced Paulson and explained the situation briefly.
The sleepiness went away from Patton's eyes as he listened. He studied Paulson carefully and nodded, took him by the arm to turn him toward his office and said, 'If you'll just step this way, Mr. Paulson, there's a couple of questions I'd like to ask you.'
Paulson went with him willingly, though he protested, 'This is the damndest hocus-pocus I ever ran into about waiting for my sister in her room. I showed the clerk my identification.'
'Sure, sure,' said Patton soothingly, holding the door of his office open for Paulson to precede him inside. 'No one doubts you're her brother. Just sit down there and tell me something about your sister, Mr. Paulson.'
'What sort of things?' demanded Paulson tensely. 'Has anything happened to Nellie?'
'Not that we know of. It's just that something real funny happened tonight that maybe has some connection with her. U-m-m, would you say she's much of a practical joker?'
'Nellie? Not to my knowledge. No more than anyone. She's got a good sense of humor, but- What the devil are you getting at?'
'Does she ever-uh-well, have hallucinations, sort of?' Patton probed delicately. 'Maybe take a drink too many sometimes and see things when they ain't there?' He laughed lightly to take any possible sting away from the question, but Paulson's face clouded with anger.
'I don't like these insinuations about my sister. Tell me straight out what you're talking about.'
Oliver Patton sighed. There wasn't very much to tell, actually. They had no proof whatsoever that it had been Nellie Paulson who made the phone call from 360. Indeed, there was evidence that she could not have made it, for Dick thought he recalled seeing her go out some time previous to the call, and she hadn't shown up in the hotel since it happened.
So he said placatingly, 'The way it looks then is that someone else was trying to play a joke on her. Calling downstairs to say there was a dead man in her room.'
Paulson's face expressed complete surprise. 'A dead man in Nellie's room?' he gasped as though this were the first he'd heard of such a thing. 'When? Who was he?'
Patton waved a fat hand. 'There wasn't anybody as a matter of fact. I checked right away, of course, and that's why I say it must have been a joke of some sort. But we got to check every angle of a thing Hke that. That's why I asked what sort of girl yoiu: sister is. Whether she's the type to pull a practical joke.'
Paulson shook his head decidedly. 'She isn't.' He paused, looking away from Patton and seeming to nerve himself to speak further. 'On the other hand, I-now that you've brought it up, maybe you'll tell me something. I don't suppose it has anything to do with what happened here tonight,' he went on hastily, 'but I'm afraid she has been running sort of wild and getting mixed up with some-queer characters recently. At home, that is. In Jacksonville. So maybe you could tell me something about how she's been conducting herself here. Whether she's- uh- been running around much. With men, you know? Any special man particularly.'
Patton hesitated, rubbing the third fold of fat beneath his chin and studying Paulson speculatively. 'It isn't the sort of information we're supposed to hand out about our guests. This ain't the F.B.I., you know. We don't keep any dossier on our guests.'
