“They told me they were going to. I said I’d sue ‘em for damages if they did. What did you tell them?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You didn’t give them any satisfaction?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “That lieutenant is all right,” she said. “The police chief is a pill. Come in. Sit down. Hand me that package of cigarettes over there and hold a match for me. Suppose we have some coffee sent up?”

  I handed her the cigarettes, held a match, went over to the telephone, asked for room service, and told them to send up a couple of pots of coffee with plenty of cream and sugar.

  “You drink yours black, don’t you, lover?” Bertha called. “Yes.”

  “Well,” she said, “never mind the cream and sugar for me.”

  I looked at her in surprise.

  “I’ve begun to think it spoils the flavor of the coffee.”

  “Okay,” I said, “never mind the cream and sugar. Shoot up a couple of pots of black coffee and make it snappy.”

  “Well,” I said to Bertha, “what’s the low-down?”

  “I don’t know. The blowoff came about twelve-thirty. They’d found the body about midnight, I think. There was a great hullabaloo. They wanted to know all about our case, who our client was, and where they could find him.”

  “Did you tell them?”

  “Indeed I did not.”

  “Was it hard to hold out?”

  “Not so bad. I told them that was a professional confidence. I might have had some trouble if it hadn’t been that they discovered you’d gone to Los Angeles. That gave them all they needed to work on. They said they were going to catch the train by plane and bring you back.”

  “How late did they keep you up?”

  “Most of the whole blessed night.”

  “Didn’t they ever tumble to Whitewell?”

  “After a while.”

  “Flow?”

  “Snooping around.”

  “When did Whitewell get back here?” I asked. “Last night after I left?”

  “That’s the point, lover. He didn’t.”

  “You mean you didn’t see him at all?”

  “No.”

  “When did you see him after that?”

  “About four o’clock this morning.”

  “Where?”

  “He dropped in here after the police had got done questioning him. He was very apologetic because he’d got us mixed up in it. He’s an awfully nice man, Donald.”

  “What did he want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When he called in here at four o’clock this morning.”

  “Why, he just wanted to know how I’d stood the ordeal and wanted to apologize for getting me involved in a case which put me in such a position.”

  “And after he’d done all that, what did he want?”

  “Why, nothing.”

  “He mentioned something more or less casually?”

  “Oh, he wanted to know how much talking we’d do, and I told him he didn’t need to worry, that you wouldn’t divulge any information. He said he hoped particularly you wouldn’t tell them anything about what case you were working on or about any letters. I told him he could go to bed and go to sleep with a mind free from worry.”

  “How about Philip? Was he with his dad?”

  “No. That’s why the father didn’t come back here. He and Philip had some difference of opinion.”

  “Over what?” -

  “I don’t know, lover, but I think it was over you.”

  “Why?”

  “Philip seems to be very enthusiastic about you. He wanted his father to give you a free hand to go ahead and do anything you wanted to find Corla. His father said that was going to be too expensive, that as soon as you uncovered evidence showing that Corla had left of her own free will, that was all he could afford to do. Then Philip suggested she might have left because she was being blackmailed or something, and his father said that if that was the case, she wasn’t the sort of girl they’d want in the family anyway; and I guess Philip’s nerves were ragged. They had an argument, and his father walked away and left Philip alone in the casino.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I thought that over. “That would have been somewhere around eight o’clock, or a few minutes later?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You didn’t tell the law anything about that?”

  “I told the law to mind its own business, and I’d mind mine,” Bertha snapped. “The impertinent ignoramuses! Even wanted to know what proof I could give that I’d been here in the hotel all that time. Here I was waiting for Mr. Whitewell to show up, and because of that fight with Philip, he didn’t come near me—”

  “Where did he go?”

  “He was very much upset. You know he’s really attached to that boy, really and truly, worships the ground he walks on, and Mr. Whitewell was terribly upset. He even forgot about calling me and telling me he wouldn’t be here. He didn’t—”

  “But where did he go?”

  “He didn’t go anywhere.”

  “You mean he came back to his room here in the hotel?”

  “Oh, I see what you mean. No. He was very nervous. He walked around for a while, and then came back and tried to go to sleep. He and Philip and Mr. Endicott had a suite. Philip didn’t show up until nearly eleven o’clock. The police found out Whitewell was my client and got him up for a grilling. Poor man. I guess he didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “What do you know about the details of the killing?”

  “Almost nothing. He was shot. That’s all I know.”

  “What caliber gun?”

  “1 don’t know.”

  “Did they find the gun in the apartment?”

  “1 don’t think so.”

  ‘And no one heard the shot?”

  “No. You know how that apartment house is. It’s off on a side street, and there are just those two apartments over the store building. The store closes at six o’clock. Someone must have been looking for something in the kitchen. The doors of the cupboard beneath the sink had been pulled open and a couple of pans were on the floor. I understand there were a few drops of blood near the door which leads to the kitchen. I picked up a little information from the questions the officers asked, but they aren’t giving out very much information.”

  “Well,” I said, “it’s a good thing he was killed. He had it coming.”

  “Donald, don’t talk like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’d hold it against you.”

  “They’ve got plenty to hold against me now, but it’s not going to get them anywhere.”

  “Didn’t the porter remember you, lover?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “How about your ticket?”

  “They didn’t collect it.”

  “Nor your Pullman reservation either?”

  “No. I just got aboard, climbed in, and went to sleep.”

  “It’s queer the conductor didn’t wake you up to take your ticket.”

  “That,” I said, “is because the porter didn’t see me. He didn’t report to the conductor that anyone had got aboard with a ticket for lower nine.”

  “Isn’t that going to make it rather tough?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Bertha said, “Well, you’re a brainy little devil. You can keep yourself out of jail all right, but we must do something to help Mr. Whitewell. Do you suppose this murder has anything to do with Corla Burke’s disappearance?”

  don’t know yet. A lot of people could have killed Harry Beegan—and among them is my very estimable friend, Lieutenant William Kleinsmidt of the Las Vegas police force.”

  Bertha said, “Don’t be a sap, Donald. If Kleinsmidt had killed him, he’d have admitted the shooting—posed as a hero— ‘Fearless-officer-kills-desperate-criminal-who-has-terrorized-neighborhood,’ and all that sort of bunk.”

  I said, “I’m not sold on it. I’m suggesting it as a possibility.” -

  “I don’t See where it’s even possible.”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Citizens don’t like it when a cop is too handy with a gun. Kleinsmidt was looking for Pug, and Kleinsmidt was sore. Pug was handy with his fists, and wasn’t in any mood to be pushed around.”

  “But Kleinsmidt could have claimed it was a self-defense no matter what had happened.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Donald, that’s not the. way to treat me. What’s wrong with what I’m telling you?”

  I said, “Pug was unarmed. He was in his house. It was something which would pass for that with a jury. An officer is supposed to be able to take an unarmed man without anything more than a sap.”

  “But Pug was a good fighter.”

  “An officer is supposed to be ,able to take an unarmed man.”

  “What makes you think Kleinsmidt did it?”

  “I don’t.”

  “I thought you said you did.”

  “I said it was a possibility.”

  “Well, what makes you think it’s a possibility?”

  “The way the police are trying so hard to pin it on someone else.”

  “Meaning you?”

  “Among others.”

  “Arthur Whitewell made me promise I’d let him know just as soon as you arrived in town.”

  “Did he know Kleinsmidt had gone after me?”

  “I don’t know. He knew someone was going to get you “

  “Okay, give him a ring.”

  I handed Bertha the telephone. She cleared her throat twice and said into the telephone, “Would you ring Mr. Arthur Whitewell’s room pulleese. Good morning, Arthur. This is Bertha. Oh, you flatterer! Donald’s here— Yes—That will be splendid!”

  She hung up, looked up at me, and said, “He’s coming right up.”

  I sat down, lit a cigarette, and asked, “How long has this been going on?”

  “What?”

  “This Arthur and Bertha business.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. We just started calling each other by our first names. After all, you know, we’ve had quite an experience together—this murder and the resulting investigation.”

  “How about Philip?”

  “I haven’t seen Philip except for a moment when the police were asking questions.”

  “Has Endicott gone to Los Angeles?”

  “No. He’s still here, but he wants to go.”

  “Whitewell planning to go?”

  “Not for a few days. Give me a cigarette, lover.”

  I handed her a cigarette, held a match for her. Knuckles sounded on the door, and 1 opened it for Arthur White-well and Endicott.

  “Well,” Whitewell said, shaking hands, “this is hardly the way we’d anticipated it, is it, Lam?”

  “No.” - Endicott followed Whitewell’s lead in shaking hands, but said nothing.

  Whitewell stood over Bertha, smiling down at her. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Have virtually a sleepless night and still look as fresh as though you’d been in bed ever since ten o’clock. I can’t get over marveling at your sheer vitality.”

  Bertha said coyly, “I wish I were one-tenth as good as you think I am.”

  I said, “I suppose you people/have told your story to Kleinsmidt.”

  They nodded.

  “He’s been checking up. You’ll hear more from him. He’s a persistent cuss. I’d say he might be dangerous.”

  No one said anything for a few seconds, then Endicott said, “Yes, I have an idea you’re right.”

  “Well, it might be just as well for us all to run over the facts and—” I broke off as I heard the pound of rubber heels in the corridor. Then as knuckles beat on the door, I said, “Even money that this is the law now.”

  There were no takers. I opened the door. It was Kleinsmidt.

  “Come in,” I said. “I wouldn’t doubt if someone is going to suggest breakfast.”

  “Why, yes,” Whitewell said. “An excellent idea. Good morning, Lieutenant.”

  Kleinsmidt didn’t do any pussyfooting. “I have a little checking up to do,” he said. “You, Whitewell, haven’t told me everything that happened last night.”

  Whitewell said, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Weren’t you down at the corner of Beech and Washington Streets at about nine o’clock last night?”

  Whitewell hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment, “just how I am going to co-operate with you, Lieutenant. You seem determined to—”

  “Quit sparring for time,” Kleinsmidt said. “Were you or weren’t you?”

  Whitewell glowered at him. “No.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “Of course, I’m positive.”

  “You weren’t there at any time, let us say, between eight-forty-five and nine-fifteen?”

  “No, not at any time during the evening.”

  Kleinsmidt stepped back, jerked open the door, looked out in the hall, and nodded his head.

  I said, “Brace yourself, Whitewell.”

  We heard the sound of quick steps in the corridor, then a girl stood in the doorway.

  “Come in,” Kleinsmidt said. “Look at the persons in this room and tell me whether any of them is the person you saw last night.”

  She stepped across the threshold. There was something proudly defiant about her, as though she knew that every hand would be turned against her, and had schooled herself to a pretended indifference. She didn’t give the impression of having been aroused at an early hour to face this ordeal. Somehow, looking at her, you felt she hadn’t been to bed and that she wasn’t accustomed to going to sleep before daylight. There was a little too much color on her face, and her mouth was hard. But she’d taken care of herself, watched her figure, cared for her hands, was particular about her clothes—a woman in the late twenties who had learned never to let her guard down for a moment.

  You knew what she was going to say before she said it. Her eyes moved in a swift half circle of appraisal, and then stopped on Whitewell. But before she could say anything, Bertha Cool was leaning forward on the edge of her chair. “No, you don’t,” she said to Kleinsmidt. “You’re not going to pull any frame-ups here. If there’s going to be an identification, you put the man in line with some other man of approximately the same age and build and—”

  “Who’s running this?” Kleinsmidt demanded indignantly.

  “You may be running it, but I’m telling you how you’ll have to do it if it’s going to count.”

  “It’ll count with me. How about it? Is that person here?” She raised a finger and pointed it at Whitewell. Kleinsmidt said, “That’s all. Wait outside.”

  “just a minute,” Whitewell said. “I demand to know—”

  “Wait outside.”

  She nodded and walked through the door, shoulders back, chin up, hips swinging with just enough exaggeration to indicate that she knew what we thought and was telling us what we could do about it.

  The door closed. Kleinsmidt said, “Well?”

  Whitewell started to say something.

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted.

  He looked at me with his eyebrows arched in the silent interrogation of one who is too well-bred to show annoyed surprise in any other way.

  “You’ve already said it,” I told him. “You weren’t there. You can’t add to that, and—” and I paused significantly—“you can’t subtract from it.”

  Kleinsmidt whirled to glare at me. “Lawyer?” he asked.

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Because if you’re not,” Kleinsmidt said ominously, “we don’t like to have people practicing law without a license—not in this state; and when you presume to give advice to a person charged—”

  He broke off abruptly, and 1 asked, “Charged with crime?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  Kleinsmidt turned abruptly to Endicott. “Are you,” he asked, “Paul C. Endicott?”

  Endicott nodded.

  “You’re associated in business with Whitewell?”

  “I work for him.”

  “In what capacity?”

  “I’m in charge of things while he’s gone.”

  “What do you do when he’s there?”

  “Keep them running smoothly.”

  “Sort of a general manager?”

  “I guess so, yes.”

  “How long have you been with him?”

  “Ten years.”

  “Did you know a young woman named Carla Burke?”

  “I have seen her, yes.”

  “Talked with her?”

  “Just briefly.”

  “Where?”

  “One night when she came to the office.”

  “You knew she and Philip were going to get married?”

  “Yes.”

  “When did you come here?”

  “Yesterday afternoon.”

  “How?”

  “With Philip.”

  “In his car?”

  “Yes.”

  “How does it happen I didn’t hear about you before?”

  Endicott looked at him calmly. There was nothing of antagonism in that glance, nothing of submission. It was merely a disinterested, partially humorous, perhaps partially contemptuous appraisal. “I’m sure I don’t know,” he said with just the right inflection in his voice.

  He was just the type to really run a business. Not simply caring for the details, but doing the executive work, and making the decisions. He wasn’t a man who would get rattled. He wasn’t one who could be frightened. He made up his mind as to what he was going to do, and he carried through his plans. All of that showed in that instant when the two men stood facing each other.

  Kleinsmidt sensed what he was up against. He dropped his bulldozing manner. “Under -the circumstances, Endicott, I’m going to want to know what you did last night.”

  “When?”

  “Well, what were you doing around nine o’clock for instance?” -

  “I was in a picture show.”

  “Where?”

  “The Casa Grande Theater.”

  “What time did you go into the show?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, around quarter to nine—perhaps a little earlier. Yes, come to think of it, I guess it was right after eight-thirty.”

  “How long did you stay?”

  “Until I’d seen the entire show. I suppose around two hours.”