12 Chinks and A Woman

     “Are you usin' booze as perfume these days,” he said, sitting down, “or do you think we can get some hard liquor in this joint?”

     “That's a nice crack,” Paula said: “what else can a girl do in a place like this? I've only had three pink ladies. What's the idea? I've been sitting on my fanny for three hours now.”

     Fenner beckoned to a waiter. “Don't say 'fanny'. It's vulgar.” He ordered two double Scotches and some ginger-ale. He sat with his back turned to Paula and watched the waiter order the drinks and bring them all the way back. When the waiter had set them down he reached out and poured one of the doubles into the other glass, filled the empty glass half full of ginger-ale and pushed it over to Paula. “You gotta watch your complexion, Dizzy,” he said, and poured half the neat Scotch down his throat.

     Paula sighed. “Well, come on,” she said impatiently, “let me in on the ground floor. I've been out of circulation for three hours.”

     Fenner lit a cigarette and leant back in his chair. “You're quite sure Miss Daley walked out on you without any persuasion?”

     Paula nodded. “It was like I told you. I went up to the desk and started making arrangements for a room. She was standing behind me. I took off my glove to sign the book and I felt sort of lonely. I looked round and there she was drifting into the street. She was on her own and moving fast. By the time I'd got through the revolving door she'd gone. I tell you, Dave, I got a nasty shock. What was worrying me more than anything was I'd got all that money on me. I guess you were nuts to have given it to me.”

     Fenner grinned unpleasantly. “You don't know just how smart I was, baby,” he said. “I guess I did myself a nice turn sending you out with that dough. Anyway, go on.”

     “I went back to the hotel, asked for an envelope, put the money in and gave it to the cashier to hold.' Then I shot out into the street and had a look round; didn't get anywhere, so I phoned you.”

     Fenner nodded. “Okay. If you're sure she ran out without some guy pushin' her to it, we'll let it ride for a moment.”

     Paula said, “I'm positive!”

     “Now let me tell you somethin.' There's somethin' mighty phony about this business. Someone planted a dead Chink in the outer office after you'd gone, and tipped the cops.”

     Paula sat up. “A dead Chink?”"”

     Fenner smiled mirthlessly. “Yeah. This Chink had a slit in his throat and had been dead some time. He would want some explainin' away. Soon as I saw him, I asked myself why. Either that guy was left as a warnin' or else as a plant. I wasn't takin' any chances, so I moved him out quick and tossed him in an empty office at the end of the corridor. Well, I was right. It was a plant. I hadn't got back more than a few minutes before three tough bulls bust in. They were lookin' for that Chink, and, believe me, it took all I had not to laugh in their faces.”

     “But why?” Paula asked, her eyes very wide.

     “Suppose they found him there? I should have been taken down to the station and held. That's what was wanted. To get me out of the way long enough to catch up with this Daley dame. These bulls softened up a lot when they found nothin' to holler about, but they searched the two offices. I had my fingers crossed. If they had found that six grand it might have taken a little explainin' away.”

     Paula said, “But what's all this mean?”

     “Search me. It just amuses me; but it don't mean anythin' yet. What did you get out of Miss Daley?”

     Paula shook her head. “She just wasn't talkin'. I asked her the usual line for our records, but she said she would only talk to you.”

     Fenner finished his Scotch and stubbed out his cigarette. “Investigation seems about to peter out,” he said. “We're six grand to the good an' no work to do for it.”

     “But you won't sit around doin' nothing?”

     “Why not? She paid me the dough, didn't she? Then when I fix it so she can talk in comfort, she blows. Why should I worry? When she wants more advice, she'll contact me.”

     An elderly man with a lean face, all nose and chin, came into the lounge and sat down a few tables from them. Paula looked at him curiously. She thought by the look of his eyes he'd been weeping. She wondered why. Fenner broke into her thoughts. “What did you think of this Daley dame?” he said abruptly.

     Paula knew what he wanted. “She was educated. Her clothes were class and cost plenty. She was scared about something. I could guess at her age, but I'd most likely make a mistake. I'd say twenty-four. I might be six years out either way. If she was anything but a good girl, she was a good actress. Her make-up was mild and she'd been living in the sun a lot. She was modest—”

     Fenner nodded his head. “I was waiting for that. Sure, she was the modest type. Then why should she take off her clothes to show me that someone had thrashed her?”

     Paula put her glass down and stared at him. “This is a new one,” she said.