“Sit down and tell me about it. I’m beginning to remember up to where the film broke. I was talking to Eve Farraday. Who hit me?”
“Several people want to find out—including the Captain. He’s downstairs now. I won’t let him come up until you’ve eaten. He’s been haunting the house like a grim spectre all morning.” Doris removed the depleted grapefruit. “Maybe it was the girl.”
“Not Eve Farraday.” Stan went after the creamed chicken. “She’s adorable—”
“All girls are adorable to you. The Farradays must be just sweet home folks. I’m sure you enjoyed your little visit with them.”
Stan grimaced at her from under the bandage. “Don’t be catty, Doris—and send up LeRoy. His airtight explanation of this will soothe me—”
“You can have him when you’re finished—if you won’t talk too long. Honestly, Stan, you were in bad shape last night. Donald and I—”
“I was careless,” he said grimly. “I wouldn’t worry you and Don for anything—but I guess I had this coming. The game is getting rough. You say the Farradays brought me home?”
“In a speedboat. They landed you right in front of the house. Commander Dawson was on the deck below you when you tumbled overboard. He dove for you as soon as you hit the water. He and one of the men in the speedboat got most of the water out of you on the way here—evidently Navy training is good for something—”
“Where’s my white suit?” Stan interrupted.
“I sent it to the cleaners.”
“O Lord!” He sat up too suddenly and went back on the pillows. “I had a letter in the pocket.”
“The Captain has it. He went through the suit this morning.”
“I might have known it. Send him up, will you, Doris. I feel better, really.”
Doris removed the tray with a satisfied smile. A termite army could not have more completely demolished the food. All indications were that Miles Standish Rice—The Hungry—was for the moment out of danger. She blew him a kiss from the doorway, and cautioned him again about talking too long with LeRoy.
The Captain gripped Stan’s hand for several seconds before he spoke. Then he said: “I’ll get somebody for this, Stan, if I have to burn the Four Leaf Clover down to the water line—and everybody on board!”
“I’m afraid that wouldn’t get the right one, Vince.” He reached for a cigarette from the table beside the bed. The Captain found one and lit it for him. “Doris says you got the letter from my coat pocket—”
“Warning Caprilli to stay away from the Sunset?”
Stan nodded. “I wish I knew who wrote it.”
“I know who wrote it.” LeRoy seemed pleased. “Patterson checked it this morning against Munroe’s portable. It came from that machine, Stan.”
“It’s almost a public machine—where it’s located. Caprilli thought Munroe wrote it, too—”
“So you saw that louse?”
“That’s why I went to the Four Leaf Clover. I got the letter from Caprilli.”
“I’ll remember that,” LeRoy said sternly. “In case he comes back again.”
“He left last night?”
“Early this morning. Listen Stan,” the Captain leaned close to the bed, “you must have some idea why you were knocked off that boat last night. What did you find out?”
“I wonder.” Stan thoughtfully touched his bandaged head. “For a starter, Vince—Edward Eowler was in love with Eve Farraday. The check of Tolliver’s was torn up because Eve asked Fowler to destroy it—”
“Now there’s love!” LeRoy had taken a cigar from his pocket and was examining intently a minute flaw on one end. “What a guy! He tears up ten thousand dollar checks for deputantes—and has a dame like Millie LaFrancc on the side—”
“They’re different types,” Stan reminded him dryly.
“So?” The Captain lit his cigar. “And if Fowler did all this—he’s a different type from any of the gamblers I’ve met around joints in this town.”
“Maybe it’s your turn to come clean, Vince. What are you driving at?”
“I’ll tell you,” LeRoy said after a short pause. “You agree with me that anyone might have used that machine of Toby’s. Well, then Tolliver Farraday might have used it. You say that any of the players at the Sunset might have killed Fowler. Tolliver Farraday was there, too. Shall I go on?”
Stan snuffed his cigarette and rearranged his pillows. “Go on, by all means, Vince—but whatever you say will be used against you. This is a good time to tell me—while my head hurts.”
“Use what you want,” LeRoy continued. “I don’t believe Eve Farraday got any ten thousand dollar check out of a gambler for love and kisses—”
“Why Vincent LeRoy!” Stan covered his face with one hand and peered at the officer through his fingers. “What a prurient mind you’ve developed from your coarse work. You can’t mean that this girl gave—all!”
“You know darn well what I mean. Fowler had her on the spot, Stan—and the brother found it out. How did he happen to be at the Sunset on Saturday night? Convenient, wasn’t it?”
“You heard Bruce Farraday explain that yesterday.”
“It was a good story—even if I didn’t believe it. But Bruce Farraday hasn’t explained why his son and daughter followed you out to the Four Leaf Clover last night. That was convenient too. Who had a better chance to hit you than the boy you left behind in Keefe’s office? Who would want you out of the way more than he? It would play hell—his father calling in a private detective—and him mixed up with a murder. It may not be airtight, Stan—but it stands up better than anything else for the time being—and I’m going to follow it through.”
“So that’s your case?” Stan’s voice dragged wearily. “It reads pretty good: Gambler trims youth for ten grand and ruins sweet sister to save family from dark disgrace. Brother arranges to kill dark despoiler. Writes note cancelling poker game so he can use poker room for death chamber. Lures gambler into poker room—method unknown. Leaves papa and sister in middle of
