otherwise we don’t know anything about her.”
“And the
“Most of these clubs that catered for Americans have
deteriorated since the Americans have gone home. The
our suspect list, but Bradley is a little too smart for us at the moment.
We believe the place is a gambling den, and there’s drinking out of
hours. I’m sure the food is Black Market, but we’ve never been able to
get any of our men in there, and a raid has always flopped. The Chief
thinks one of our men tips Bradley off when a raid is going to be
made. Anyway, he’s always one jump ahead of us, although he can’t
last much longer.”
By now we had finished the meal, and Corridan went back to the
arm-chair. I ordered brandy and cigars, saw he was settled
comfortably.
“Well, now perhaps I can convince you,” I said, produced the
Luger and handed it to him.
He sat for a long moment staring at it, his face expressionless,
then he glanced up, his eves cold.
“Where did this conic from?” he asked.
I told him.
He examined the Luger thoughtfully, shook his head, relaxed
again.
“If you knew the number of women who have these damn things
you wouldn’t think so much of it,” he said. “Nearly every American
soldier brought one back from Germany, and gave it to his girl friend.
What makes you so het up about it?”
“I’m not het up about it,” I said, “but it’s odd she should have kept
it hidden in a dress like that, isn’t it?” I suddenly wondered if I was
making a fool of myself.
“Well, you can get into trouble having one of these things she
might have hidden it with that in mind,” Corridan returned, stretching
out his long legs and sniffing at his brandy. “Nothing more concrete?”
I told him about the sixteen five-pound notes, and handed them
and the letter to Anne Scott over to him. I also gave him the diamond
ring.
“You certainly searched the place pretty thoroughly,” he said,
cocking an eye at me. “I don’t know if you had any right in there . . .
had you?”
“Maybe not,” I returned, chewing my cigar, “but this business
worries me, Corridan. I feel there’s something wrong somewhere.” I
went on to tell him about the man who had attacked me.
He showed some interest at last.
“Did you see him?”
“It was damned dark, and I was startled. All right,” I went on when
he half smiled. “I was scared pink. So would you’ve been if it had
happened to you. The guy sprang out at me with what looked like a
tyre lever, and he had a damned good shot at bashing my brains in. I
couldn’t see much of him, but he seemed young, slight, and could run
like hell. I think I’d know him again if I saw him.”
“What do you think he was after?”
“The gun perhaps,” I said, “that’s why I suggest you have it
checked. You see there’s a scratch on the barrel and it looks as if at
one time a name was engraved on the butt. I believe the gun might
tell us something.”
“You’ve been reading too many detective stories,” he grunted.
“Still, there’s no harm checking the gun.” He sniffed at it. “Been fired,
I’d say a month or so ago. Smells of lilac, too.”
“Her favourite perfume,” I told him. “Well, that’s my story. I
hoped you’d be more impressed, but I should have known better. The
trouble with you is you’ve no imagination.”
He stroked his long fleshy nose. “Maybe I haven’t, but I’ve a lot of
horse sense, and I still think she committed suicide.” He picked up the
envelope, tapped it on his finger-nails. “Shall we see what’s in here?”
“Can we?”
“The police can do anything,” he said with a wink. He took out a
pencil, slid it under the flap of the envelope, rol ed it gently backwards
and forwards. After a little persuasion the flap lifted.
“Easy once you know how,” he said, looking at me with his half-
hearted smile. “You have to have the right touch, of course.”
“I’ll keep my mail out of your reach,” I said. “Well, what’s inside?”
He glanced into the envelope, whistled. With finger and thumb he
hooked out what seemed a stack of over-printed paper.
“Bearer bonds,” he said.
I leaned forward. “Seems a lot of them,” I said, gaping.
His fingers flicked through them. “Five thousand pounds worth,”
he said. “Now I wonder where these came from?” He glanced inside
the envelope. “No note. Hmm, this is a little odd I must say.”
I laughed at him. “Now you’re starting. The whole thing’s odd to
me. Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“I think I’ll take a trip to Lakeham and see Miss Scott. I’d like to
know where these bonds came from. If she can’t tell me, I’ll have to
check them. That may be a longish job; still, I want to know.”
“Could I come with you to Lakeham?” I asked. “I’ll play Watson to
your Holmes. Besides, I’d like to meet the sister. Maybe she doesn’t
know Netta’s dead. I think I should be there when the news is
broken.”
“By all means come,” he said, getting to his feet. “Shall we say to-
morrow morning? We can go down by car.”
“Swell. But don’t think you’re through yet,” I said. “There’s one
more thing I want you to do. Where can I see Netta? I want to see her
before she’s buried.”
“A bit morbid, aren’t you?” he shot at me. “What good can that
do you?”
“I’m funny that way,” I said, stubbing out my cigar. “Suppose you
come along too? I want you to see her if only to be in a better position
to judge when the lid comes off this business, as I’m sure it will. I have
a hunch we’re on to something that’s going to be big, and you’ll thank
me in the long run for putting you wise.”
“I’ve never met such a chap,” Corridan muttered, went over to
