I agreed reluctantly. ?It?s important.?
?Is it still murder??
?More than ever, sugar. I bet it?s a big murder, too. A great big beautiful murder with all the trimmings.?
?Then what do you suggest I do next??
I gave it a thought first, then looked at her a moment. ?Play this Clyde. Keep your eyes open and see what happens. If I were you I?d hide that P.I. ticket and leave the gun home. We don?t want him putting two and two together and getting a bee in his bonnet.
?If you follow me on this you?ll see the connection. First we have Wheeler. We have the fact that he
?There?s only one hitch. Juno found the girl he left with the night of the party. She didn?t go out with him!?
?But, Mike, then . . .?
?Then I?m supposing he
Velda rose, her legs spread apart, throwing out her arms in a stretch that made her jacket and skirt fill up almost to bursting. I had to bend my head down into a match to get my eyes off her. Clyde was going to get a hell of a deal for his money. I slapped my hat on and opened the door for her.
When we reached the street I put her in a taxi and watched until she was around the corner. It was just nine-thirty, so I headed for the nearest phone booth, dropped a nickel in the slot and dialed police headquarters. Pat had checked in, but he couldn?t be located at present. I told the switchboard operator to have him meet me in a spaghetti joint around the corner from headquarters in a half-hour and the guy said he?d pass the message on. I found my heap and climbed in. It was going to be a busy day.
Pat was waiting for me over a half-finished cup of coffee. When he saw me come in he signaled for another coffee and some pastry. I threw my leg over the chair and sat down. ?Morning, officer. How?s every little thing in the department??
?Going smoothly, Mike.?
?Oh, too bad.?
He set his coffee cup down again. His face was absolutely blank. ?Don?t start anything, Mike.?
I acted indignant. ?Who, me? What could I start that?s not already started??
The waiter brought my coffee and some Danish and I dunked and ate two of them before either of us spoke again. Curiosity got the best of Pat. He said, ?Let?s hear it, Mike.?
?Are you going to be stupid about it, Pat??
His face was still frozen. ?Let?s hear it, Mike.?
I didn?t make any bones about trying to keep it out of my eyes or the set of my jaw. My voice came up from my chest with a nasty rumble and I could feel my lip working into a snarl that pulled the corners of my mouth down.
?You?re a smart cop, Pat. Everybody knows it but most of all I know it and you know it yourself. You know something else besides. I?m just as smart. I said Wheeler was murdered and you patted me on the head and told me to behave.
?I?m saying it again, Pat. Wheeler was murdered. You can get in this thing or I can do it alone. I told you I wanted that ticket back and I?m going to get it. If I do a lot of reputations are going to fall by the wayside including yours and I don?t want that to happen.
?You know me and you know I don?t kid around. I?m beginning to get ideas, Pat. They think good. I?ve seen some things that look good. Things that put more taste in the flavor of murder. I?m going to have me another killer before long and a certain D.A. is going to get his nose blown for him.?
I don?t know what I expected Pat to do. Maybe I expected him to blow his top or start writing me off as a has-been in the brain department. I certainly didn?t expect to see his face go cold and hear him say, ?I gave you the benefit of the doubt a long time ago, Mike. I think Wheeler was murdered too.?
He grinned a little at my expression and went on. ?There?s a catch. Word reached the D.A. and he looked into it and passed his professional opinion in conjunction with the Medical Examiner. Wheeler was, beyond doubt, a suicide. I have been told to concentrate my efforts on more recent developments in the wide field of crime.?
?Our boy doesn?t like you either now, eh??
?Ha.?
?So??
?What do you know, Mike??
?Just a little, pal. I?ll know more before long and I?ll drop it in your lap when there?s enough of it to get your teeth in. I don?t suppose your prestige suffered from the D.A.?s tirade.?
?It went up if anything.?
?Good. Tonight I?ll buzz you with all the details. Meanwhile you can look up the whereabouts of one former torpedo called Rainey.?
?I know him.?
?Yeah??
?We had him on an assault and battery charge a while back. The complainant failed to complain and he was dismissed. He called himself a fight promoter.?
?Street brawls,? I said sourly.
?Probably. He was loaded with jack but he had a room in the Bowery.?
?The Bowery. Why??
?Interesting word. I?ve been hearing a lot about it these days. See if you can get a line on him, will you??
Pat tapped a cigarette on the table. ?This is all on the table, isn?t it??
?Every bit of it, chum. I won?t hold back. I?m curious about one thing, though. What changed your mind from suicide to murder??
Pat grinned through his teeth. ?You. I didn?t think you?d chase shadows. I said I wouldn?t get excited this time but I couldn?t help myself. By the time I reached the office I was shaking like a punk on his first holdup and I went down to take a look at the body. I called in a couple of experts and though there were few marks on the body it was the general opinion that our lad Wheeler had been through some sort of a scuffle prior to taking a bullet in the head.?
?It couldn?t have been much of a fuss. He was pretty damn drunk.?
?It wasn?t,? he said. ?Just enough to leave indications. By the way, Mike . . . about that slug and shell we found in the hall. Was that your work??
I let out a short, sour laugh. ?I told you that once. No. Somebody had a hole in his pocket.?
He nodded thoughtfully. ?I?ll check the hotel again. It had to be either a resident or a visitor then. It?s too bad you didn?t lock the door.?
?A lock won?t stop a killer,? I said. ?He had all the time in the world and could make as much noise as he wanted. Most of the guests were either half deaf or dead to the world when the gun went off. It?s an old building with thick walls that do a nice job of muffling sound.?
Pat picked up the check and laid a dollar on top of it. ?You?ll contact me tonight then??
?You bet. See you later and tell the D.A. I was asking for him.?
It took fifteen minutes to get to the Chadwick Hotel. It was another side-street affair with an essence of dignity that stopped as soon as you entered the lobby. The desk clerk was the Mom type until she spoke then what came out made you think of other things. I told her I wanted to see a certain Marion Lester and she didn?t bother to question or announce me. She said, ?Room 312 and go up the stairs easy. They squeak.?
I went up the stairs easy and they squeaked anyway. I knocked on the door of 312, waited and knocked again. The third time I heard feet shuffling across the floor and the door opened just far enough to show wide blue eyes, hair curlers and a satin negligee clutched tightly at the throat. I jumped the gun before she could ask questions with ?Hello, Marion, Juno told me to see you.?
