wouldn’t know her again without the sun goggles and the scarf she was wearing. It’s my bet this woman was Gina Lang.’
Terrell rubbed the end of his nose with the butt of his pen.?‘So she wasn’t lying.’?‘That’s it, but here’s something you’re going to love,’ Beigler said. ‘Sam Karsh turned up at the U-Drive joint two days after the murder. He told them he had found one of their cars… the car rented by Ann Lucas or Gina Lang dumped in a clearing on a dirt road off the North Miami Beach highway. He told Morphy… he’s the manager of the joint… he had found the car and thought it had been dumped. He asked questions, got a description of this Ann Lucas or Gina Lang and then faded away. I’ve contacted Ann Lucas. She tells me that on the night Karsh contacted Morphy, she got a mysterious telephone call from a guy who questioned her about the loss of her driving licence. After she had admitted losing her licence and as soon as she began questioning him, he hung up. That could have been Karsh.’
Terre1l said, ‘What are we waiting for. Let’s get Karsh here.’
Beigler grinned.?‘Jacobs is already picking him up. He loves Karsh.’?‘Okay. Joe, nice work. I want to think about all this. When Karsh arrives let him sweat it out. I may not be ready for him for an hour.’
When Beigler had gone, Terrell sat for some time thinking, then he abruptly reached forward and flicked down a switch on the inter-corn.
‘I want the file covering Chris Burnett’s disappearance,’ he said.
When an officer brought in the file, Terrell studied it. Then he took a large scale map of the district from his desk drawer and studied that.
The inter-corn came to life.?‘We have Karsh here, Chief,’ a voice said.?‘Let him stew. I’m not ready for him yet.’
Terrell sat for another half-hour going over the file, making notes, studying the map, then he called for Beigler.
Beigler came in, sat down and lit a cigarette. He looked at expectantly at Terrell.?‘This could be a sweet one,’ Terrell said, pushing back his chair and crossing his legs. ‘I’m getting persuaded that Chris Burnett killed Sue Parnell.’
Beigler sucked his cigarette, his eyes widening.?‘You tell it,’ he said.?‘We know Burnett is a nut. Gina Lang claims to have picked up a nut who was tall, dark and handsome. That description fits Burnett. The time he was missing and the time she picked him up also jells. He was picked up by our men about a mile from where Morphy claims the U-Drive car was dumped. We know Karsh found the car. We know Burnett wore a jacket when he left the hotel and it was missing when he was found. It’s my bet Karsh found the jacket in the car and there was blood on it. You don’t rip a woman the way Parnell was ripped without getting messy. It looks to me that Karsh took the jacket to Hare who promptly put the bite on Mrs. Burnett. This would explain why she parted with twenty thousand dollars. Why else should she give him that amount of money unless he had her where he wanted her?’
Beigler whistled.?‘Can we prove any of this, Chief?’?‘Not yet, but we’ll have Karsh in and we’ll sweat him until he does talk.’?‘But suppose he doesn’t?’
The telephone bell interrupted what Terrell was about to say. He lifted the receiver.
‘Thresby here,’ the manager of the Florida Banking Corporation said. ‘I thought you would be interested. This morning, Mrs. Burnett paid the twenty thousand dollars back into her account… the money we thought was blackmail money.’
Terrell scowled and ran his fingers through his greying hair.?‘The same numbers?’?‘Yes. She paid in the exact bills we issued to her.’?‘Thanks. I don’t know what it means, but it looks as if we’ve got off to a false start.’ ‘That’s what I think. Suppose we forget it? A man like Travers… you know what I mean.’ ‘Yeah. Okay. Henry, be seeing you and thanks for calling.’ Terrell hung up.?‘So what now?’ Beigler asked.?‘Mrs. Burnett paid the money she gave to Hare back into her account… so that let’s Hare out. Now, why in hell, did she do that? How did she manage to get the money away from Hare?’
‘Do we still talk to Karsh?’
Terrell hesitated.?‘We haven’t a thing to go on. We can’t bring a charge against Hare for blackmail now. If we start something we can’t finish with Burnett, we’ll have Travers on our necks. Don’t let’s rush this.’
He picked up his pen and began to make holes in his blotter with it.?‘Has the U-Drive car been checked for prints?’?‘Sure… it’s been wiped clean. No prints.’?‘If we could find Burnett’s prints in the motel cabin we would be getting somewhere. Did you check the knife for prints?’
‘Only the Lang woman’s and yours.’?‘Send Jacobs to Gustave’s sanatorium right away. Tell him to see Gustave and get Gustave to give him something Burnett has handled. Then get Hess to check through his list of prints in the cabin and see if Burnett was there.’
Beigler left the office. Terrell kept making holes in his blotter until Beigler returned. ‘He’s on his way. How about Karsh?’
‘Yeah. Let’s talk to the creep. Maybe he’ll open up.’?‘Maybe: the same way as he’ll join the Salvation Army.’ Beigler said.
Karsh was brought in. He was pale, worried and jumpy.
Terrell asked him about the U-Drive car.?‘So what’s it to you?’ Karsh demanded indignantly. ‘I’m getting sick of the way you cops keep shoving me around. I happened to be driving in the district and I found the car. I told this jerk it looked as if it were dumped. Can’t I do another guy a good turn without you stamping all over me?’
‘How did you find it?’?‘I tell you… I was driving around. The frigging car was dumped. I was curious … it’s my nature to be curious… so I checked the tag, found it belonged to the U-Drive outfit and as I was passing, I dropped in and told them. I was doing them a good turn.’
‘Imagine you doing anyone a good turn,’ Beigler sneered. ‘If you think we believe a yarn like that, you need your head examined.’
‘Okay, so I need my head examined.’?‘What did you find in the car, Karsh?’ Terrell demanded, leaning across the desk and glaring at Karsh.
‘What do you mean? I didn’t find a goddamn thing!’?‘I think you did. You found a sports jacket with blood on it!’
Karsh was too wily a bird to be caught with that one. Although sweat began to appear on his narrow forehead, he went through the act of looking amazed.
‘Blood? Jacket? Look, Chief, honest to God I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ ‘There was a blood- stained jacket in the back of that car and you found it!’?‘I found nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking about! If I had found anything, I’d have turned it over to you. I saw this car, I thought it was dumped. I tipped off the U-Drive people.’ Karsh shifted in his chair. ‘I swear to God…’
‘You found out the name of the woman who hired the car and you telephoned her, didn’t you?’
Karsh rolled his eyes.
‘Wait a minute… just out of curiosity, I did ask Morphy who had rented the car, but I didn’t telephone her. Where did you get that from?’
‘You telephoned this woman and you asked if she had lost her driving licence, didn’t you?’ ‘Not me, Chief. You’re confusing me with someone else. Not me.’
For the next hour, Terrell and Beigler battered away at Karsh, but they didn’t break him. Finally, in disgust, Terrell had to admit defeat. He had no proof. He was sure Karsh was lying, but he knew he was wasting his time trying to get him to admit anything.
‘Get him out of my sight!’ he said finally and walked over to the window, turning his back on Karsh as Beigler hustled him out.
There was another irritating wait, then Hess came in.?‘Nothing, Chief,’ he said. ‘Jacobs gave me Burnett’s prints, but they don’t show on my list.’
Terrell grunted and waved him away. He looked over at Beigler who was drinking coffee. ‘Well, that’s it. It’s my bet Burnett did the job, but we can’t nail it on to him … anyway, not yet. Maybe not ever.’
Beigler picked up the Sue Parnell file.?‘We keep this open then?’?‘That’s it,’ Terrell said as he began to fill his pipe. ‘You never know. We may have some luck. I don’t know how long he’ll stay in the sanatorium. As long as he’s there, he’s safe, but if he comes out, he could do it again. If he does, then we’ll have him. These killers usually try it again. Yes keep the tile open.’
Dr. Adolf Zimmerman was short and excessively fat. His eyes, like green gooseberries, dwelt behind horn rimmed, thick lensed glasses. He had the quiet soothing manner of a priest in a confessional box.
He came into the lounge where Val had been waiting for the past two hours. She had heard a murmur of
