“Perhaps if there’s somewhere a little more private Miss Suffolk?” suggested Andrews.
“Certainly doctor. We’ll go into my office.”
We all trooped in, ignoring the questions fired at us. Inside the office nobody was in the mood for chatter. We sat, well spaced out around the room, and that’s where we were when the police arrived. It had to be Randall of course, and with him one Schultz, now Detective First Grade. They both saw me at the same time, and looked at each other with resignation.
“Well, well, Mr. Preston isn’t it? You sure get around.”
Randall studied me unlovingly, I shrugged and ignored him. He switched his attention to the others. He got all the names, Schultz scribbling away on his little pad. After that he asked Dr. Andrews half a dozen questions, thanked him for his cooperation, and let him go. The stuff with the doctor was no more than a formality, now he could get down to the real work. Half an hour later he said tiredly:
“All right, now this is the way it stacks up. Please interrupt me if I have anything wrong.”
He ran over it from the beginning, and being Randall there wasn’t even a comma out of place. At the end we all agreed he had it right and he nodded.
“Very well. We shall have to get corroborating testimony from people outside, but as I see it of this moment you Miss Suffolk and you too Mr. Hamilton are more or less bystanders. You on the other hand Mr. Preston,” and he underlined the “Mr.” with heavy sarcasm, “You are in a very different situation.”
I didn’t need him to tell me that. If Jake Martello died, there would be no one around to support my statement that there ever was any gunman out in the night.
“Yes, a very different situation. I know it isn’t relevant, but you possess an automatic pistol, a .38 caliber Police Special, if memory serves me correctly. Do you have it with you?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I had a look at it?”
I handed it over and he inspected it.
“This certainly hasn’t been used tonight,” he grumbled.
“It hasn’t been used in more than a week,” I informed him. “Could I have it back please?”
Reluctantly, he passed it over.
“Rourke will be wanting to see you,” warned Randall. “And you’d better be praying that Martello pulls out of this. The Captain don’t like solitary witnesses to mysterious shootings on dark nights. They make him nervous. Especially when it’s their idea for the victims to go out in the dark in the first place.”
I hadn’t anything to say on that. If I annoyed Randall, he had plenty of justification for taking me in, and that was the last thing I wanted. Finally, he gave it up. Then he and Schultz went outside to get some independent witness material, and we all looked at each other.
“Much as I dislike policemen, which is plently, I have to admit the big fellow works well,” announced Hamilton.
“Right,” I assented. “And don’t ever underestimate him. Lots of people get the notion Randall’s asleep on his feet, because he looks so tired all the time. And lots of people are wrong.”
“I could tell you and he were old-er-friends?” he nodded. “That was interesting wasn’t it, the way he hoped, Mr. Martello would recover for your sake? Yes, a smart one, that.”
“I thought we more or less agreed to cut it out, a while back,” I grumbled. “Are you going down to the hospital to help fill out all those forms?”
He got up, stretching himself tiredly.
“I suppose I’d better. If I could trouble you to open the safe, Miss Suffolk?”
He looked at her in polite enquiry. I had the feeling Rose didn’t like her boy friend’s assistant too well, but she certainly couldn’t fault him on the way he addressed her. It was like a graduation exercise from a school of deportment. Crossing to the safe she waited pointedly for him to look away while she dialled the combination. Then she motioned for him to take out the gun himself.
“Thank you.”
He slid the weapon back inside his jacket with satisfaction. From what I’d seen of Hamilton and people like him, I doubted whether he was ever separated from his gun for any length of time. I had an idiotic vision of him with a padded pyjama jacket and smiled inwardly.
“Did Charlie say when he wanted to see me?” I queried.
“Never fear. He’ll be in touch after he’s through at the hospital.”
Hamilton nodded to us and went out. In the doorway he passed the anxious figure of Rose’s floor manager. He came in looking distinctly flustered.
“Miss Suffolk, I’m afraid the crowd are rather restless,” he said apologetically. “Everybody keeps demanding to know what happened, and they want to hear it from you personally.”
Rose smiled and sighed.
“What you mean is, get out there and sing ‘em quiet?”
He shrugged.
“I’m sorry. I know how you must be feeling. But there’s some of our best customers out front, and they don’t come all this way just to talk to me.”
She stood up, and so did I.
“You see the way it is Mark, the show must go on, like the man said. You want to come and watch?”
“Ordinarily, there’s nothing I’d like better. But there are several things I ought to be doing. I think Jake would prefer me to be doing them.”
“I understand. You’ll be careful won’t you? And if there’s anything I can do, anything at all.”
“You bet. And I’ll let you know if I hear anything that would interest you.”
Gravely, she patted me on the cheek.
“Take care, boy.” Then she turned to the manager. “All right my friend. Let’s get this show on the road.”
As I went out I heard the sudden roar of applause that greeted her appearance. Alone in the lighted porchway, I felt the quick clutch of fear at my throat, in case the gun artist was back at
