Murder by the Book

When we went back to our table after I had fancied up a samba all I could and she had kept with me as though we had done it a hundred times, and I insisted that with dinner only a memory it was time for a drink, she refused.

"Look," I objected, "this isn't going right. All I'm getting out of it is a good time, when I'm supposed to be working. The idea was to get you lit enough to loosen up, and you're drinking water. How can I get you babbling if you won't drink?"

"I like to dance," she stated.

"No wonder, the way you do it. So do I, but I've got a problem. I've got to quit enjoying myself and drag something out of you."

She shook her head. "I don't drink when I'm dancing because I like to dance. Try me tomorrow afternoon while I'm washing my hair. I hate washing my damn hair. What makes you think there's something in me to drag out?"

Our waiter was hovering, and I appeased him with an order for something.

"Well," I told her, "there ought to be, since you think O'Malley killed Dykes. You must have some reason-"

"I don't think that."

"You said you did Wednesday evening."

She waved a hand. "It gets Eleanor Gruber's goat. She's crazy about O'Malley. I don't think that at all. I think Len Dykes committed suicide."

"Oh. Whose goat does that get?"

"Nobody's. It might get Sue's, but I like her, so I don't say it, I just think it."

"Sue Dondero? Why her?"

"Well-" Blanche frowned. "Of course you didn't know Len Dykes."

"No."

"He was a funny duck. He was a nice guy in a way, but he was funny. He had inhibitions about women, but he carried a picture of one in his wallet, and who do you think it was? His sister, for God's sake! Then one day I saw him-"

She stopped abruptly. The band had struck up a conga. Her shoulders moved to the beat. There was only one thing to do. I stood up and extended a hand, and she came, and we edged through to the floor. A quarter of an hour later we returned to the table, sat, and exchanged glances of unqualified approval.

"Let's get the dragging over with," I suggested, "and then we can do some serious dancing. You were saying that one day you saw Dykes-doing what?"

She looked blank a moment, then nodded. "Oh, yes. Do we really have to go on with this?"

"I do."

"Okay. I saw him looking at Sue. Brother, that was a look! I kidded him about it, which was a mistake, because it made him decide to pick me to tell about it. It was the first time-"

"When was this?"