Kept Women Can’t Quit

Bernice was a stunning-looking babe, a brunette with big, limpid eyes and curves that seemed to be trying to push their way through the clothes she was wearing. She certainly knew how to use those eyes and knew how to present her nylons to the best advantage.

“All right,” I said to Ernestine, “what happened today?”

She said, “Bernie will help us, Donald.”

I looked over at Bernice.

Bernice batted her eyes a couple of times and smiled, a tremulous, wistful smile.

It was easy to see that Bernice didn’t need to eat at home except when she wanted to.

I said, “Are you still willing to help me, Ernestine?”

“Anything,” she said. “Only...”

“Only what?” I asked.

“I have to co-operate with the police, too, you know.”

“Why?”

“Well, they told me I did. They’re working on a murder and... well, you know how it is.”

“Sure,” I said, “I understand.”

I turned to Bernice. “How about you?” I said.

She made with the eyes and then smoothed down the hem of her skirt and ran the tips of her fingers nervously along her stocking. “What can I do?” she asked.

I said, “I want to know a few things about Evelyn Ellis that it may be the hotel wouldn’t want you to talk about.”

“I’ve told the police all I know.”

“No, you haven’t,” I said, trying to follow the lead Ernestine had hinted at. “What about Evelyn’s sex life?”

“I wouldn’t know — except I guess there was plenty of it.”

“Come on,” I said, “this is for Ernestine. You’re going to help her by telling me some of the things you know that I want to know.”

“Well, she’s considerably over twenty-one. I would say she wasn’t entirely inexperienced — you wouldn’t expect that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t expect it,” I said. “I’m not asking you if she’s a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”

“I thought that’s what you meant.”

I said, “Bernice, quit stalling.”

“What do you want to know?”

“About the Japanese photographer,” I said.

“Oh, you mean the fellow with the rattling staccato voice — he’s a dear.”

“All right,” I said. “What do you know about him?”

“Nothing. I’ve never met him. I know, of course, the number she calls, the Happy Daze Camera Company. They take model photographs and they’ve done all of her publicity photography.”

“And there’s a friendly relationship?”

“Oh, yes.”

“How friendly?”

“I don’t think she goes overboard with him, if that’s what you mean, but... it’s a relationship that’s hard to explain. He just worships the ground she walks on. She’s his goddess, his inspiration. You know, I’ll bet that he thinks she’s a sweet, loyal, lovable girl and as pure as the driven snow.”

“There have been quite a few telephone conversations?”

“She calls him quite frequently and I hear his voice on the line.”

“What do they talk about?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t listen.”

“Now,” I said, “we’re getting someplace. I’m going to have to put through a long-distance phone call. I’ll get charges and give you the money to cover, but I want you, Bernice, to put through the call in your name. Then I’ll talk.”

“Whom do I call?” she asked.

“Carl Dover Christopher, the president of Christopher, Crowder and Doyle In Chicago. You’ll have to get him at his home number. I don’t think you’ll have too much trouble. He’s rather a wealthy man and a prominent man.”

She laughed and said, “The number, in case you want it, is Madison 6-497183.”

I tried to keep the surprise from registering. I said casually, “You’ve heard Inspector Hobart talking with him.”

She said, “I don’t know anything about that, but he’s got a terrific crush on Evelyn: You know, she was a stenographer or something in one of the importing firms and the public relations man was looking for a model who could give a lot of cheesecake and get them some publicity. You know how it is. A newspaper photographer is naturally looking for something that will catch the eye. You can’t get photographs of an exhibition of hardware and get any newspaper coverage. You have to—”

“Never mind that,” I said. “Tell me about Carl Christopher.”

“Well, I know that he met her back there and in some way he got her entered in the contest.”

“How do you know?”

“Because when he came out here on a business trip about three weeks after the convention he telephoned Evelyn. She was in Los Angeles at the time and arranged to meet him here. She came up and stayed here at the hotel, registered under the name of Beverly Kettle. That’s the first time I heard her other name of Evelyn Ellis. Mr. Christopher used to call for her as Evelyn Ellis. She asked us telephone girls to put through any calls that came for Evelyn Ellis to her room. She said Beverly Kettle was the name she was registered under but Evelyn Ellis was her stage name.”

“Was she living with Carl Christopher for a while?” I asked.