the Savoy.
Crystal was there to welcome me. The room was cluttered up
with a mass of flowers and smelt like a florist’s. There was a bottle of
champagne in a bucket, and it only needed a brass band and the Lord
Mayor to complete the home-coming atmosphere.
“Darling!” Crystal exclaimed, throwing her arms around my neck
and doing her best to strangle me. “Welcome home!”
“Who’s paying for the champagne?” I demanded, removing her
arms.
“You are, precious,” she said brightly. “Let’s open it and drink your
health. My poor little tonsils are withering for a drink.”
“Not at seven pounds a bottle we won’t,” I said firmly. “That goes
back to where it came from. I suppose I’m paying for all these flowers
too?”
“I knew you wouldn’t mind,” Crystal returned slipping her arm
through mine and pressing her face against my shoulder. “I’ll take
them home if you don’t like them, but you’ll have to pay for them as
I’m a little short right now. They do make the room look lovely, don’t
they?”
“Sure, but what are they going to do to my bank balance? This is
as bad as being married. Now, suppose you sit down and let me look
through my mail. I’ve been out of circulation for the past four days. I
shall have some catching up to do.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that,” she said. “Aren’t you glad to
see me? You haven’t even kissed me yet.”
I kissed her. “There, now sit down and keep quiet for a moment.”
“I do love you, Steve, in spite of your poor battered face,” she
went on, sitting down. “But I do wish you were a more romantic
type.”
“It’s nice of you to call it a face,” I said, glancing into the mirror,
grimacing. “Sorry about being the wrong type. You’d better get in
touch with Frank Sinatra if that’s the way you feel.”
She lifted her shoulders in a hopeless shrug. “At least I haven’t
any competition,” she said. “That’s the only_ advantage a girl gets in
going around with a fish like you.”
“One of these days, when I have the time, I’l prove to you I have
blood and not warm water in my veins,” I returned, smiling at her. I
picked up my mail, sorted through it. I read the letter from
Merryweather, full of apologies, but withdrawing from the case with
pathetic determination. There was a note from Corridan,
congratulating me on my recovery, hoping I would soon be going
home, and again advising me, now that I was lucky to be still alive, not
to interfere with what was obviously not my business. I tossed the
letter into the wastepaper-basket. The rest of my mail was from
America and needed immediate attention.
I shooed Crystal out, promising to meet her that evening, sat
down and worked solidly until lunch time.
After lunch, before settling down to the fourth of my articles on
Past-War Britain, I turned Jack Bradley up in the telephone book,
found he had a flat in Hay’s Mews. I noted the address, closed the
book with a vicious bang. Sometime during the night, I proposed to
call on Mr. Bradley, and he was going to remember my visit.
In the evening I met Crystal and we had supper together at the
Vanity Fair.
She was looking enchanting in an ice-blue evening gown which
she said had been a reward for a strictly one-sided wrestling match
with one of the club’s patrons. I tactfully didn’t ask her who had won.
“That horrible policeman friend of yours was in the club this
afternoon,” she said after we had worked through an excel ent veal
escalope.
“You mean Corridan?” I asked, interested.
She nodded. “He spent half an hour with Bradley, and on his way
out, he passed me and said I was to be sure to tell you I had seen him
because you like to know what was going on, and to say that curiosity
killed the cat.”
I laughed. “The guy’s getting to be quite a kidder. Now, I wonder
what he wanted with Bradley? Have you ever seen him in the club
before?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. Policemen never come to the club
as a rule. Bradley was furious as he showed Corridan the door.
Corridan must have said something frightful y rude because Bradley
never shows his feelings.”
“One of these days I too am going to say something frightfully
rude to Mr. Bradley,” I said grimly.
She put her hand on mine. “You won’t do anything silly, precious,
will you?”
“I never do anything silly except make love to you.”
She glared at me. “You don’t call that making love, do you?”
“I don’t know what else you call it. I was under the impression
that we were on intimate terms.”
“One of these days I’ll forget I’m a lady,” she said darkly, “then
you’ll know what being on intimate terms really means. It’l be an
experience you won’t forget in a hurry.”
“Hastily changing the subject,” I said, patting her hand, “have you
heard anything from Selma Jacobi?”
She sighed. “Here it comes,” she said, shaking her head. “More
questions. I don’t know why I bother to waste the best hours of my
life in your company. I haven’t heard anything from Selma. I don’t
suppose I ever shall. I expect she’s started an entirely new life.
Sometimes I think it’d be a good idea if I did the same thing.”
“Never mind about your life for a moment,” I returned. “Let’s
concentrate on Selma. Has she any friends? I mean, close friends who
might know where I could find her?”
“You’re not going to chase her, are you?” Crystal demanded, her
eyebrows shooting up. “She simply isn’t your type. She’d bore you in
five minutes. You can’t do better than stick to me. After al I’m your
first and only love.”
“This is strictly business, honey,” I said patiently. “I’m trying to
solve a murder case. If I could talk to Selma I think I could get
