Safer Dead

I looked at the card.

Joan Nichols.

Apartment B.

76, Lincoln Avenue. Welden. W. 75600

‘Thanks,’ I said and slipped the card into my pocket. ‘Is Hesson around? I want a word with him.’

‘He doesn’t live here. He has a room on Bay Street.’

‘Do you remember the number?’

‘27: what’s the idea?’

‘No idea. I pick up information the way a magpie picks up anything that glitters. My mother was frightened by a magpie before I was born. Well, I guess I’ll turn in. See you in the morning.’

I left him gaping and went up to my room.

I hadn’t been asleep for more than half an hour when my door burst open and the light turned on. I sat up blinking to see Bernie standing in the doorway.

‘For the love of Mike! Can’t you let a guy sleep?’ I growled.

‘You ought to be up and working like me,’ Bernie said, coming unsteadily over to the bed. ‘Brother! Do I feel cockeyed.’ He flopped heavily on the bed and blew out his cheeks. ‘I’ve got news for you. Fay had a boyfriend.’

‘What?’ I sat bolt upright. ‘Have you found him?’

‘I haven’t found him, but I’ve got a swell description of him. I knew a girl like this Benson frill couldn’t have gone through life without a boyfriend: it was against nature. I got friendly with that redhead. She calls herself Dawn, but I bet her name’s Beulah or Dagmar or something awful. But what a girl! No inhibitions, no repressions, and how she loves money!’

‘What did she tell you?’

‘She was working at the club at the same time as Fay was,’ Bernie said, passing his hand across his eyes. ‘Is the floor moving up and down or am I drunker than I imagine I am?’

‘There’s a heavy sea running tonight,’ I said sarcastically. ‘Get out with it!’

‘Dawn tells me none of the girls knew much about Fay. It wasn’t that she was high hat, but she had her own dressing room and she kept to it. The girls wondered about her, as girls do. The third night after Fay had first come to the club, Dawn saw her talking to the driver of a car parked at the far end of the alley at the back of the club. Dawn couldn’t see much of the driver. He had his hat pulled down low and he wore dark glasses which Dawn thought was odd as it was dark. It was a good car. A Cadillac convertible: green and cream.’

‘He could have been asking the way, you dope!’

‘I thought of that.’ Bernie opened his eyes and looked suspiciously at the floor. ‘I may not show it, but I have a natural talent for detection. Dawn saw this guy again two nights later. He was talking to Farmer in the stage door office, and she got a good look at him. When he had gone she asked Farmer who he was and he said he didn’t know, but he was waiting for Fay. I have his description written down in case I forgot it.’

‘It’s a marvel to me you didn’t forget to write it down, and it beats me how you ever got back here in the condition you’re in.’

Bernie smirked as he took out his wallet and produced a sheet of paper.

‘Dawn brought me back. That’s the kind of girl she is. She says she always looks after her investments. She calls me her goose that lays her golden eggs. Cute, isn’t it?’

‘Get on with it, you drunken lug!’ I snarled. ‘Let’s have the guy’s description.’

Bernie peered at the paper, frowned, then said, ‘That’s funny. I seem to have written this in Chinese.’

‘You have it upside down, you dope!’

Bernie turned the page up the other way.

‘So I have. I thought for a moment liquor was giving me some culture. This guy’s over six foot, lean, suntanned with an eyebrow moustache. He wears dark glasses, even at night. He had on a camel hair coat, a white nylon shirt and a polka dot bow tie. He wore a gold link bracelet on one wrist and a gold strap watch on the other. Trust Dawn to spot the gold fitments. At a guess he’s around thirty-five. That’s not a bad description, is it?’

I took the paper from Bernie’s unsteady hand, folded it and placed it on the bedside table.

‘It’s good. Well, we’re certainly getting places. The cops didn’t turn this guy up. Did you find out anything else?’

‘Isn’t that enough for one night? Besides, after she’d told me that, she started to tell me how much she liked money, and once she starts on that subject nothing on earth can stop her.’

‘Well, okay. You’d better go to bed. Your room is next to mine on the left in case you don’t remember.’

‘What about you? Didn’t you find out anything?’ Bernie said, peering at me. ‘What have you been doing all this time?’

‘I’ve been doing plenty, but you’re in no condition to concentrate. Go to bed. I’ll tell you in the morning.’

‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Bernie said, getting to his feet. ‘I could do with some sleep. Don’t start work too early. I have an idea I’m going to have a hangover.’

‘Go to bed!’ I said and turned out the light.

II