9cb261f7cd45f33ca37c87fa6590aac1

“It’s all right then. Don’t worry about it.” She glanced at the paw-printed tub. “Will they come off?”

“I don’t know. You may not believe it, but I’ve never fin­gerprinted anyone in a bathtub before.”

As he opened the door to– leave, and was thanking her, and she was telling him any time, that she did this every day, and it was nothing, he looked at her gently until she averted her eyes. Golly, he was thinking, I’d like someday to have a daugh­ter like her.

The trouble was, you never knew how they would turn out. If only they were returnable merchandise

.

8

Zeke ran a thorough check on Greg Balter, which revealed that Balter had no criminal record, had a high credit rating, and held a reputation for integrity with his fellow attorneys and the judges in whose courts he pleaded his cases. He was liked immensely, from the fellows at the ninety-nine-cent car laundry where he regularly got his Thunderbird washed to the girls at Bob’s where he just as regularly showed up for hamburgers.

Zeke found that Greg shared a suite of offices with two other attorneys on the third floor of a Sherman Oaks office building, one of those modern structures seemingly supported by nothing more than steel and concrete stilts. Around such a building Zeke had a horror he might sneeze and start the building walking down the street.

Greg looked up curiously when the solidly built secretary with the size nine feet showed Zeke in. “So I’ve got big feet?” she said, noting Zeke’s glance.

Zeke stopped, dumfounded. Greg came to his rescue. “Ellen, please, I’ve told you not to brag.” As Ellen disap­peared with a chuckle, Greg offered a firm handshake and in­dicated a chair constructed along the same lines as the build­ing. Greg leaned back in his swivel then, and waited warily. The chances were that the FBI was calling about one of his cases.

Zeke wasted no time. “I thought you could help me in a case I’ve got out in your neighborhood. I’m sorry that I can’t tell you anything about it – “

“You don’t have to with me,” Greg broke in. He was ex­hausted and on edge. He had had a particularly trying after­noon. A client – an elderly, motherly looking soul – had con­fessed on the witness stand during cross-examination that she had lied about the facts in an auto accident. It was the first time he had been deceived by someone he represented.

Zeke continued, “I know this may sound ridiculous to you. It did to me when I first heard about it – but you have a neigh­bor across the street, Miss Randall, who has a cat that roams around a good deal, and we’re trying to trace the cat’s whereabouts for last night

“

He trailed off. Greg had come upright in the swivel, all cordiality gone, his lips pulled into a grim line.

Puzzled, Zeke said slowly, “It’s important that we know where he went since a woman’s life is in jeopardy

.”

Greg rose slowly, and Zeke noted with amazement the clenched fists. “What’d she tell you?” Greg asked, staring down at him.

“Who? Miss Randall? I don’t think I understand.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you did.” He began pacing, oc­casionally slamming a fist into a palm. “I don’t know what cock-and-bull story she made up to sic the FBI on me but it must’ve been a whale of a good one for you guys to swallow it.”

Zeke said, “She didn’t tell us anything. It doesn’t have any­thing to do with her.”

Greg raised his voice above Zeke’s. “Don’t try to cover for her. I’m an attorney, same as you. I know you’re not supposed to divulge the source of your information – but I know.”

Zeke said sharply, “You’ve got it all wrong – “

Greg interrupted. “I had this duck. I’d spent all day in a blinding rain. Almost got pneumonia. A mallard duck.”

“Please, Mr. Balter, I’m not interested in your duck.”

Greg sat down hard in the swivel. “Her cat stole the duck at about twelve-thirty last night – or this morning it would’ve been.”

Zeke shouted, “I’m sorry about your duck but – “

“So I went over to get my duck back. I had every right – and I caught the cat red-handed.” That didn’t sound right, so he corrected himself. “I caught him with the evidence in his mouth. He had committed a felony and I told her so.”

“Now wait a minute, – you’ve got to listen to me.”

“I’ve tried to be a good neighbor. I bought Mike a basket­ball last Christmas, and her kid sister’s around all the time selling tickets and raising money. She’s about to dollar me to death. Oh, sure, I said some nasty things but who wouldn’t when he’s stood all day in a storm

but I went over today at noon and apologized although I don’t know why the blazes I did.”

“If you’d just listen,” Zeke shouted, seeking to recover the initiative. What in the world had gone wrong? He had come in to ask a few simple questions, such as he asked a hundred times a week, and a mallard duck had waddled into the in­terrogation.

Greg was not to be talked down. “What kind of jurisdiction has the FBI got anyway? Don’t tell me the cat crossed a state line.”