punk I’ve ever known who hunts with the Administration and runs with the opposition and gets away with it. So watch him.”
He walked out of the morgue, his hands thrust deep in his coat pockets, his shoulders hunched, his head bent.
I stood for a long moment, turning this information over in my mind. Even if he hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have trusted Mr. Holding. He hadn’t been born with the face of a ferret for nothing.
I left the morgue, closed the door and walked quickly down the passage and on to the street.
The time was now twenty-five minutes to two o’clock. I was pretty tired, and it was nice to sink into the upholstered seat of the Buick.
I got back to the hotel as the clock was striking two. The night clerk looked reproachfully at me as I crossed the lobby. I was too tired to bother with him. I got into the elevator, rode up to the second floor, tramped wearily down the corridor to my room. I unlocked the door, pushed it open and turned on the light.
Then I swore under my breath.
The room had been given the same treatment as Sheppey’s room. The drawers in the chest were hanging out, the mattress was ripped open, the pillows were slashed. My stuff had been tossed out of my suitcases and strewn all over the floor. Even Sheppey’s stuff had been thrown around too.
I went quickly to where I had hidden the match-folder.
My fingers slid under the edge of the carpet and I grinned.
The match-folder was still there.
I hooked it out and, sitting back on my heels, I opened it. The loose match that I had wedged in between the others fell out and I had to scrabble among the pillow feathers to find it. If someone had been looking for this folder, I thought, they had gone away without it. But suddenly I stopped feeling pleased as I turned the match over. There were no ciphers along its back! A quick check showed me that there were no ciphers on the back of the other matches either.
I straightened up.
Someone had taken away Sheppey’s folder and had left another, probably hoping I hadn’t spotted the ciphers on the back of the original one.
I sank down on my ripped-up bed, too tired even to care.
Chapter 7
I
I slept until eleven-fifteen the following morning.
When I had telephoned down to the night clerk to tell him I couldn’t use the room I was in and why, he had promptly called the police, and I had had yet another visit from Candy.
I didn’t tell him about the match-folder. I let him see for himself what had happened, and when he had asked if there was anything missing, I had said, as far as I could see, nothing was.
I then moved into another room, leaving him and his fingerprint men to check for clues. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t find anything.
As soon as I got into bed I went out like a light. It was the hot sun, coming through the chinks in the blind making me uncomfortably hot, that finally woke me. I telephoned down for coffee and toast, went into the bathroom, took a shower, shaved and then lay on the bed, waiting for the coffee.
I had a lot to think about. There were a number of loose ends to this investigation that needed to be followed up.
Was there any connecting link between the Musketeer Club and Hahn’s School of Ceramics? Was this link something that Sheppey had been working on? Did Marcus Hahn figure in the case? Had Creedy hired Sheppey to watch his wife, and had Sheppey stumbled on something quite away from this assignment? What had he been doing in the bathing cabin with a girl like Thelma Cousins?
The coffee arrived before I could attempt to answer any of these questions. While I was drinking it, the telephone bell rang.
It was Rankin.
“I hear you had visitors last night.”
“Yes.”
“Any idea who they were?”
I stared up at the ceiling as I said, “I’d have told Candy if I had. They went through Sheppey’s things, now they’ve given me the same treatment.”
“Watch out they don’t give you an icepick.”
“There’s that.”
“I thought I’d check with you. Candy didn’t find a thing. You have no ideas?”
“Not at the moment. I’m bending my brain on it now. If I come up with anything I’ll tell you.”
There was a pause, then he said, “I’ve talked to the priest. Hahn wasn’t lying. This girl was just what he said she was. She didn’t go out with men, and the priest said she would never associate with any strange man. He’s quite convinced about that.”
“She associated with Sheppey.”
“Yeah. Well, I have work to do. I’m trying to get a line on that icepick.”
“I was going to ask you about that. No prints?”
“No. You can buy a pick like that at any hardware store. I have men asking around. If I get anything I’ll let you know.”
I thanked him. At least I was getting more cooperation from him than I had expected.
He reminded me I would have to attend the inquest on Sheppey’s death that would be held in the late afternoon, then he hung up.
I finished my coffee, then called Ella at the office. I asked her how Sheppey’s wife had taken the news. She said she had had a bad time with her, but she thought she would be over the shock by now.
“She’ll have my letter this morning. Keep the cash box locked, Ella. It’s my bet she’ll be around asking for some dough before long. Tell her I’ll be mailing her a cheque tonight.”
Ella said she would do that.
We talked business for a few minutes. Two cases had come in: both of them sounded lucrative and interesting but I wasn’t even tempted.
“See if Corkhill will handle them on a fifty-fifty basis,” I said. “I’m staying here until I’ve cracked this one. Can you manage?”
“Of course.”
And I knew she would manage. She was as sharp and as smart as anyone I could hope to have working for me. We talked some more, then I said I’d call her in a day or so and hung up.
By now my room was unpleasantly hot.
I still felt a little under the weather and decided I’d go down to the beach, take a swim and then plan out a campaign with the sun to inspire me.
I got dressed, dug out my swimming trunks from my bag and stuffed them into my pocket, then I took the elevator to the ground floor.
Brewer, the fat reception clerk, took my key.
“Mr. Brandon,” he said, looking confused, “I’m afraid that . . .”
“I know: don’t tell me,” I said. “You have a sudden rush of business and you could use my room.” I smiled at him. “I don’t blame you. Okay, I’ll find somewhere else. Just give me until tonight.”
“I’m sorry, but we are getting a lot of complaints.” He actually looked sorry. “We have had the police here four times in twenty-four hours since you’ve been here.”
“Yes, I know. I can imagine how you feel about that. I’ll move out tonight.”
“That’s very nice of you, Mr. Brandon.”
I went out to the Buick and drove down to the beach. By then it was just after twelve noon, and the beach was crowding up. I managed to find a place to leave the Buick, then I made my way to a bathing station. The umbrellas were out. The boys and girls were already at play: some were throwing the medicine ball, some
