They were greeted in the anteroom of Mendoza's office by an unusually excited Sergeant Lake. 'Lieutenant, I've found that Marner woman for you-'
'Oh, good,' said Mendoza. He didn't sound very interested. 'One of the agencies?'
'No, it was the damndest thing, it looked hopeless, you know-not a smell anywhere-and then I go out for coffee and buy a paper and there she is on the front page! Look.'
They looked, and Mendoza laughed. 'Well, I will be damned! And I wonder now if maybe that ties into this… ' It was a good-sized cut, of a pretty brunette and a middle-aged man; and the story took up two short columns. Pickering to Wed Second Wife was the head. 'Revealed yesterday was the forthcoming marriage of Thomas (‘Toby') Pickering, the famous producer and vice-president of Capital Films, Inc. A widower for eleven years, Pickering, 47, confirmed that he is shortly to wed Miss Marian Marner, 38, model. Miss Marner-'
'Producer,' said Hackett. 'I don't see quite how, but it might-Anyway she knew Twelvetrees-Trask, we'd better see her-'
' Pronto,' agreed Mendoza. 'You get hold of this Pickering on the phone, Art, and find out where she is. I've got some routine jobs for, let's see, about three men, Jimmy-who's available? I'll brief them.. .'
After a good deal of trouble with a succession of receptionists and secretaries, Hackett got hold of Pickering in his sanctum sanctorum. (Easier to get on the direct wire to the President than to any Hollywood film official.) Pickering, curiously enough, seemed to know more about it than Hackett did. His voice on the phone was incisive, crisp.
He said, 'Hell. We were hoping it wouldn't be necessary. And I hope to God we can keep the whole damned mess away from the press. But if you've got hold of it, of course, that's that. Yes, well, look, Sergeant-sorry, what did you say the name was?-Sergeant Hackett, suppose I call Miss Marner and we arrange to meet in your office. O.K.? Say eleven-thirty… Right. I don't know if you have any control over that part of it, the press, but I hope- Oh, you do. Yes, but there'll be the legal end, if there's a trial and so on. Well, we can say the hell with it, if people want to gossip let them-it's one of the hazards in my business-but that isn't to say we wouldn't prefer the whole damned thing was kept under cover. If you see what I mean. At the same time, I'm aware that you'd like to know what we have to contribute, and while I'm not at all happy you've connected us with it,'-a short laugh-'maybe I shouldn't be surprised, I understand from that recent magazine article we've got a police force to be proud of
… O.K., I'll contact Miss Marner and we'll be in your office at eleven-thirty.'
Hackett relayed this information to Mendoza when he came in with Higgins, Dwyer, and Landers. 'Good, good. I have a fair idea what they're going to tell us, but it'll be nice to know the details.'
'I'd like to know what's in your mind. You act like it's about all over, barring an arrest. I tell you, that girl… I still think you swallowed that tale of the Kingmans' too easy. We know they had a motive, we know they were there at the right time, or thereabouts-what more-'
' Atras, atras, out of the way!' said Mendoza briskly. 'Before we get to the arrest, there are all these niggling little details I have to find out, to satisfy the D.A., and no time like the present to start. You're getting paid to be a detective too, I'm not going to explain it in one-syllable words-you go off somewhere and think, maybe it'll come to you.'
Hackett said a rude word and went away. Mendoza sat down at his desk and called the Temple. He asked Madame Cara a couple of questions, and the answers were just what he expected to hear. Then he went through the phone book, made a list of the clothing wholesalers and divided it up with the three men, and they started on that tiresome routine.
By the time Sergeant Lake looked in and said Miss Marner and Mr. Pickering had arrived, among the four of them they had accumulated a dismaying list of retail stores. Mendoza shooed the others out to go on checking, and Hackett came in, still looking disgruntled, behind the two new witnesses.
Mendoza looked at Marian with interest. Twelve years hadn't changed her a great deal; she didn't look much younger than she was, but she was still pretty, her figure was still very good, she was smartly dressed. She checked a little when she saw him standing there at his desk, and then said, 'Oh-well, hello, Luis. I didn't know we were coming to see you. And I don't suppose it's Sergeant Mendoza now, is it?'
'Lieutenant.'
'Yes, you were always one to get on. I used to know this one, Toby.'
She sat down in the chair Hackett held.
'Really, well, that makes things a little easier maybe,' said Pickering, looking slightly amused. He was handsomer than the newspaper cut had suggested: a biggish man with thick graying hair, erect carriage, and his voice and eyes said he was aggressively capable. He took the chair Hackett indicated and planted it firmly closer to hers, sat down, and looked at Mendoza consideringly.
'We can trust him,' she said, 'that I'll say.' She smiled a little tautly. 'He's sharp enough to cut himself, but he'll be honest.'
'I don't know that reassures me,' said Pickering. 'We've been compounding felonies and maybe acting as accessories before the fact all over the place. This is going to make the hell of a stink if it has to come out.'
'Well, suppose you tell us about it, and we'll see if it has to come out,' said Mendoza. 'Things don't, always. You'd be surprised how many little things-and sometimes big-come into a case that don't get aired in court. I've got some idea of what you're going to tell me, I think, and it's possible that it needn't come into the legal end. I'd say even probable, barring one or two little bits that may serve to confirm times and so on. I can't say for sure, and of course I can't guarantee that a smart lawyer wouldn't get hold of it and bring it up to confuse the issue-but if it's what I deduce, to do with the late Mr. Twelvetrees' blackmailing operations, well, that's got nothing to do with the murder-I don't think, anyway.'
They all looked at him. 'I see,' said Pickering interestedly. 'You know who it was, and you think it was- another reason? I see… But all the same, I suppose you want the loose ends tied up.' He got I out cigarettes, gave her one, lit both with an angry little snap of the lighter. 'I can't say I feel vindictive toward whoever killed the bastard.'
'Vindictive, possibly, no,' said Mendoza, 'but it's a funny one, an offbeat one, Mr. Pickering-if it's what I'm beginning to think. Let's save a little time. I think Miss Marner was being blackmailed by our late friend?'
'Attempted,' said Pickering. 'Just attempted, Lieutenant. I saw to that. I don't think there's any necessity to go into details-'
'I think maybe we'd better,' she said quietly. 'Maybe not in a formal statement, if we've got to make one, but you'll want to know enough to-add it up, won't you, Luis? I don't mind. I mean, it was-in a way-the sort of thing that might happen to anybody, though I don't excuse myself. It was-oh, well.' She shrugged; her tone was even but her hand shook as she raised the cigarette to her mouth. 'And a legal charge too-I wouldn't like to go to jail for it now-I don't know how that kind of thing works, if you could-'
'I think it would be a question of a fine, that's all,' said Pickering, 'but if the press get hold of it there'd be a little mess, and while it wouldn't make any difference to my position, anything like that-and the hell with it if it would-we'd just as soon that didn't happen. But if you think we'd better come out with the whole thing, hon, O.K., we're in this together.'
'I do, Toby. Well, I don't want to bore you, Luis, but I guess you'd better have a little background-not that I'm trying to excuse myself, as I say. I got married a while after we knew each other, and it didn't it turn out so well. To make a long story short, he was a drinker and I got to drinking too, and by the time I'd got the divorce, well, I wasn't much good for anything. I'd lost a lot of jobs, and the agencies got to know I wasn't-very reliable, and finally I couldn't get any jobs. It's all right, I don't mind talking about it now-I pulled myself up and used some common sense, got back on an even keel. But it was while I was-down-that way, and pretty desperate-I hadn't any money and I had to do something-I ran into this Shorter. He had a photography shop, a little hole in the wall, but it seemed he did a nice side business in-in feelthy peectures, if you see what I mean. Well, he offered me good money and I took it. I did two series for him-six shots apiece-and maybe you can say the whole business was what-pulled me up, because I loathed it, and I got to thinking, how low can you get? I used that money to live on while I got myself back in some kind of physical shape, and after a while I got a decent job, in a department store. As a clerk really, but when they found I'd had modeling experience they used me for that too, sometimes, at the fashion shows. I just quit there last week, because Toby and I are going to be married.
'Well, every once in a while I'd think about those pictures, and I didn't like the idea of them floating around. Shorter had the negatives, of course. About two years later, when I'd saved some money, I went and saw him and
