Black Mask (Vol. 29, No. 3 — January 1947)

“He might have,” Sammy conceded, biting into a fresh cigar. “Except that somebody garroted him with his bathrobe cord and hung him up like a Virginia-cured ham. The Zolta angle is interesting, but I’d rather hear about someone who had a good motive for killing Burke and Miss Keyes. Well, let’s go see how the boys from the branch office are doing.”

Chapter Four A Dog’s Life

I wasn’t getting anywhere, so I took Marion and Burke’s collie home with me. He whined and acted a little jumpy when we drove away. He missed Burke, but hadn’t figured it out yet.

After he had cased my apartment with his nose, he flopped down on the rug in front of us and tried to study out the whole situation.

I fixed a drink. “Anything you want to tell Daddy?” I asked, as I handed Marion her highball.

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?” she countered.

I sat down and took her free hand. “It might be easier to talk to me than to a police inspector.”

She nibbled at her drink, then shook her heard. “There’s nothing I can tell you. I...”

I tightened my grip on her fingers until she winced. “Don’t,” I told her. “Don’t expect me to believe that.” I nodded toward the dog, who had laid his nose across her feet. “It’s pretty obvious you’re old acquaintances. Burke’s friends, his housekeeper, will drag you into this mess. Sammy Hillman is no dope. He’ll want straight answers for a lot of questions.”

She started to cry. It wasn’t a big boo hoo, just tears and silence. She didn’t shake or sob, and her nose didn’t run. It was very different crying. Finally she said it: “Wally and I were going to be married.”

Then she shut up again. I dropped her hand and walked the floor for a few minutes. She kept spilling out at the eyes.

“You realize,” I explained to her, “that from Hillman’s point of view, your conduct this afternoon was a little screwy. I don’t suppose he’s met very many girls who would take it like that.”

Marion dabbed her eyes, and took a big slug of her drink. “Don’t you see? I couldn’t... I couldn’t make a scene. It wasn’t easy, but I couldn’t let myself go.”

I called Burke’s house and caught Sammy still there. I told him I had a new angle for him, and put Marion on the phone. She explained about herself and Wally, I guess he believed it. I did.

We had another drink and I assured her she had done the right thing. She smiled at me around the edges of her mouth. Her eyes were still moist, but under control now.

I made a small fuss over the mutt. He loved it, sat up and waved a paw at me like he wanted to fight. He was leading with his nose.

“I wonder what’s going to happen to this character?” I asked. “Can we pawn him off on any of Burke’s relatives or friends?”

“I wish I could take him,” she said, “but I’m afraid if I moved him into my apartment, I’d have to go. I’ll see what can be done in the morning.”

The mutt had me by the wrist and was growling as if he meant to keep it. “How about Burke’s housekeeper?” I asked. “He had one, didn’t he?”

Marion nodded. “I saw her at the funeral this afternoon. I suppose Wally gave her the day off. She worked for them, Maxine and Wally I mean, before the divorce.”

I oh’d and pinged my four-footed friend on his schnoz. He sneezed and let go of my wrist. “Do you suppose she could look after Junior?”

She thought it might be worth a call. She had the fun of breaking the news to Burke’s housekeeper that she was out of a job, and why. I gathered this party was pretty completely floored. But she would make a home for our orphan.

I offered to drive Marion home, then take the dog to Mrs. Andersen. I had myself a deal.

This Mrs. Andersen turned out to be a pleasant little widow lady, old enough, and wrinkled enough, to be safe working for an actor. She had been crying, and it was my guess she was about to cry some more, when I brought Burke’s dog in.

Rover and I were stuck with a very wet scene. I changed my mind about her being old enough to be safe working for Burke — I guess they never get that old. Give her a break, say it was mother love of some kind. Whatever it was, there was hair down all over the place — some of it Burke’s.

I asked her what her angle was on the Burke-Keyes marriage. What broke it up? I got a small rise out of her and choked off some of the tears.

“It was her fault — her drinking and carrying on!”

“Did you ever witness anything between Miss Keyes and another man?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t have to. Everybody knew. Everybody was talking about it.”

“How about Mr. Burke — did he know?”

“Not at first. We kept it from him the best we could. We knew it would hurt him.”

“We?”

“Miss Marion and I,” she replied. “We tried to protect him from her.”

I said: “Oh.”

“She was living with us then,” Mrs. Andersen explained. “She was so fond of them both. She did everything to keep them together.”

I oh’d again. “But Mrs. Andersen, I understand Burke and Miss Marion were engaged.”