“I don’t know as I’d buy this if it weren’t for the fact that I am personally involved. It’s a farfetched theory and I don’t know, I have an idea you may be trying to cut yourself a piece of cake and get yourself out of a murder case.

  “Before I look, I’m going to ask you one question. I want a frank answer. The authorities feel that you were in that place of Holgate’s before you went back there with Holgate’s secretary, apparently to discover the wreckage. Now, I’m going to give you one test question: Were you in there or weren’t you?”

  I looked him in the eyes and said, “I was in there.”

  “And then you went back the second time for a cover-up?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t know what had happened, but I had made an affidavit that I’d seen that accident of Holgate’s—”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because,” I said, “I wanted to smoke the thing out in the open. I felt that if I made an affidavit that I’d seen the accident, that would start putting on pressure. You see, someone had been advertising for witnesses to that accident, offering first one hundred dollars and then boosting the ante to two hundred and fifty.”

  “Holgate, in desperation, trying to buy a perjured witness?” he asked.

  “That was my theory, at first,” I said, “but after I made the affidavit I was satisfied that it was someone who was trying to cover up for Holgate.”

  “Who would cover up for him?” he asked.

  “Two people,” I said. “One of them, his partner, and the other one, Vivian Deshler.”

  “His partner. You mean Chris Maxton?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you think he might have?”

  “There’s evidence indicating he did. He paid me two hundred and fifty dollars when I convinced him that I’d been a witness to the accident.”

  Dale sat at his desk and thought things over. “You’re rather unconventional and rather daring, Lam,” he said. “You’ve stuck your neck into a lot of nooses trying to help a client.”

  “If my theory of what happened is right, my head will come out of the noose,” I said.

  “And if it isn’t?”

  “I’ll get my damned neck broken,” I told him.

  “You sure will,” he told me, and got up and went to a filing case. He pulled out a manila envelope, took it over to his desk and started pulling out papers.

  “Hell, yes,” he said, “the Holgate accident was reported, but our traffic department didn’t look into it.”

  “Why?”

  “Repairs were made in a garage in Los Angeles and the investigation was made over the telephone. The garage reported that it was a Buick automobile all right, but that the damages to the car were all accounted for, that both cars were in there being appraised by representatives of the Consolidated Interinsurance Company, and that all details of the accident had been verified, and the insurance company had admitted liability and ordered the cars fixed up.”

  “The detailed injuries were not described?”

  “Sure, they were described,” he said. “The whole front of the Buick car was caved in. Both headlights were smashed. All of the grill was gone.”

  I said, “If you want to keep anyone from identifying a hole in a garment, all you have to do is to take a pair of scissors and make the hole bigger. All Holgate had to do was to take a hammer and add to the injuries.”

  Dale said, “Lam, you fascinate the hell out of me. I’m not going to buy this wild-eyed theory of yours, but I’m sure as hell going to investigate it, and man, oh, man, how I hope you’re right!”

  I said, “You know there’s a cover-up going on. When do you start investigating?”

  “When do I start investigating?” he said. “Right now.”

  He dialed the phone again and said, “Sorry, honey, but I’m not going to be home. No, this is important. I can’t tell you about it on the phone and…I’m sorry, you’re just going to have to make apologies to the guests. They know that I’m on call twenty-four hours a day and this is one of those things.…Atta girl, I knew you’d cooperate.…You carry on and do the best you can.”

  He hung up the phone and said, “What’s first?”

  I said, “Chris Maxton. He’s the one who put the ad in the paper offering two hundred and fifty dollars reward.”

  “Well, what’s wrong with that? He was trying to help Holgate out.”

  I said, “Why help Holgate out?”

  “Because Holgate was his partner.”

  I said, “What do you mean, help? Holgate had admitted liability to the insurance company. The insurance company had admitted liability to Vivian Deshler. Any witness to the accident could only have testified that it was Holgate’s fault. So why the hell would he be helping Holgate out getting a witness?

  “The only reason he could help Holgate out with a witness was because he knew the accident was phony and he was willing to offer a big enough bribe to get some person to perjure himself—”

  “Let’s go,” Dale interrupted.

  “Do you know where to find Chris Maxton?”

  “Sure I do. He has an apartment here in town.”

  “Married?”

  “Man about town,” Dale said. “He plays around a bit, has some pretty good-looking babes on the string.”

  “Including Vivian Deshler?”

  “Hell, I don’t know,” Dale said. “I’ve never cared enough to find out, but I’m going to make it my business to know now. Come on, Lam, let’s go.”

  We got in the chief’s automobile.

  The chief drove conservatively for about three blocks. I could see that he was thinking over my theory. The more he thought it over, the better he liked it.

  At the end of three blocks he put on the red light. At the end of five blocks he turned on the siren.

  Chief Dale was in a hurry.

  We got to a rather swanky apartment house, and the chief parked his car in front of a fireplug, said, “Come on, Lam.”

  We went up in an elevator, and the chief pushed the mother-of-pearl button.

  Chimes sounded on the inside.

  Chris Maxton came to the door. He didn’t see me for a moment but saw the chief.

  “Why, hello, Chief,” he said.

  “I want to talk with you,” Dale said.

  Maxton was flustered. “I…I’m not alone…I—”

  “I want to talk with you,” Dale said.

  “I…I have a young woman here. I—”

  “I want to talk with you.”

  “Look,” Maxton said, “give me just ten seconds to get her…”

  Dale started in.

  “Go in the bedroom, honey,” Maxton called over his shoulder.

  He said, “It’s quite all right, Chief, but—What the hell, who’s this with you?”

  “Donald Lam,” Dale said. “Do you know him?”

  “Do I know him? The two-time chiseling, dirty crook! Why didn’t you say this had to do with the case against Donald Lam? I’d do anything to nail that two-timing—”

  “Take it easy,” Dale said, pushing his way into the room. “You just answer questions.”

  “Well, I’m making a complaint. I’m having Donald Lam arrested for obtaining money under false pretenses and—”

  “Save it, Chris,” the chief said. “You just answer questions. What the hell’s going on here?”

  “Nothing,” Chris said. “Oh, just a little sociable party.” The chief looked around. There was a bottle of whiskey, some ice cubes, a couple of bottles of mixer, two empty glasses, a couple of women’s shoes on the floor, a bra hanging over the back of a chair and a skirt rumpled into a corner.

  Maxton said, “I’d just shut off the hi-fi when I heard the chimes.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Dale said, walking over to the window and looking out. “You shut off the hi-fi when you heard the siren. What the hell kind of a joint you running here?”

  “Now, take it easy, Chief, take it easy,” Maxton said.

  I realized that the chief was getting him in the proper frame of mind, putting him sufficiently on the defensive so he’d spill everything he knew. It was a good job.

  The chief went over to the corner, picked up the girl’s skirt and looked at it. He walked over to the bra, looked at that, turned to the davenport, walked over and picked up a square box that had just been unwrapped. The wrapping paper was there on the floor.

  The chief reached into the box, pulled out a pair of silk panties. There was lettering all over the silk. Lower down the lettering read: “THAT’S TOO FAR—NOW STOP—I’LL SLAP YOU.”

  Then up higher the lettering was: “WELL MAYBE—YES! YES! YES!”

  “What the hell are these?” Dale asked.

  Maxton said, “I sent away for them. They were advertised in one of the men’s magazines as the ideal gift for the one girlfriend.”

  “I see,” Dale said, “and you’d just talked the young lady into trying them on to see what they looked like?”

  Maxton grinned sheepishly.

  Chief Dale glowered at him, said suddenly and accusingly, “Why the hell did you advertise for witnesses to that accident?”

  “I…I wanted to—well, I wanted to help my partner out.”

  “Cut out that crap,” Dale told him, “or I’ll open that door and run you both in for running an immoral party.”

  Chris spilled words out in a stream. “Well, you know how it is, Chief. My partner was involved in an accident and—Now look, Chief, you couldn’t drag the young woman into this—and this is my apartment. I pay rent on it and—”

  “To hell with that stuff,” Dale said, “get back to the case. Why did you try to dig up a witness?”

  Maxton took a long breath and said, “All right, I’ll tell you why I tried to pick up a witness. I thought the accident was a phony.”

  Chief Dale sat down. His face softened. “Now you’re beginning to talk,” he said. “What made you think it was phony?”

  Maxton said, “I knew damned well it was phony. Holgate’s automobile was in good shape at four-thirty that afternoon. Whatever happened took place sometime after that.

  “My partner had been drinking. He’d been involved in an automobile accident and he sure as hell was going to lots of trouble to cover it up.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I wanted to find out about it.”

  “By trying to bribe a witness to say he’d seen it?” Dale asked suspiciously.

  “You don’t get the sketch,” Maxton said. “I wanted to prove that there weren’t any witnesses. In that way I could prove there hadn’t been any accident the way Holgate claimed. I intended to offer up to five thousand dollars to anyone who could prove that he’d seen the accident, but I wasn’t going to stick my neck out all at once. I was going to make it a sure thing and play it up in such a dramatic way I’d cook Holgate’s kettle of fish.

  “I figured I’d start the ante at a hundred and then, when no witnesses showed up, I’d increase it to two fifty, then five hundred. Then, when no witnesses showed up, I’d make it a thousand. Then, with no witnesses, I’d make it two thousand. By that time I’d be sure of my ground and I’d have had the ads attracting so much attention that the insurance company would get suspicious and everyone would get suspicious.”

  “That’s better,” Dale said. “Why did you want everyone to get suspicious?”

  “Because,” Maxton said, “Holgate thought he had something on me and was trying to force me to sell out my interest in the partnership for less than it was worth. I just felt that I’d get something on that smug sonofabitch so he wouldn’t be pushing me around. Now if you want to know, that’s the truth.”

  “How did you know his car was in good shape at four-thirty in the afternoon?” Dale asked.

  “I’d rather not go into that.”

  “And I want you to go into it.”

  “All right, his secretary told me.”

  “How did she know?”

  “It was her birthday. There was a sort of office party and—”

  “Cocktails?” Dale asked.

  “Cocktails.”

  “Go on,” Dale said. “What happened?”

  “And then this cheap, chiseling, two-bit bastard, Donald Lam, got in the picture and told me such a convincing lie about having seen the accident that I came to the conclusion my suspicions were all wrong and I drew in my horns. I threw up my hands, decided I was licked and then paid the sonofabitch two hundred and fifty dollars in cash to boot.”

  Dale thought things over for a few moments, then he began to chuckle.

  He got up and nodded to me. “Go on with your party,” he said to Maxton. “I’m sorry I interrupted you and I hope the panties fit.”

  14

  We went back down to the car. The chief started the motor. His eyes were narrowed in thoughtful speculation.

  He turned on the radio and called in to the dispatcher. “This is Chief Dale in Car One. I’m working on a case. Anything new on that Holgate case? Over.”

  The dispatcher said, “Bulletin from the Los Angeles police just a few minutes ago, putting out an all points bulletin on Donald Lam. They’ve buttoned up the case against him and are ready to charge him with the murder of Carter Holgate. Over.”

  Chief Dale said, “Thanks. Keep in touch.”

  He shut off the radio and grinned at me.

  “Your friend on the Los Angeles police force doesn’t have much faith in you, does he?”

  “Not much,” I said. “How about making a telephone call?”

  “Sure thing. Anything you want, Lam.” He grinned again and said, “Anything you want. You name it, you can have it.”

  Then he began to chuckle.

  “Some reason why Holgate wouldn’t want to take the responsibility with you, Chief?” I asked.

  “You’re damned right there is,” Dale said. “It’s a long story. Holgate was high-pressure salesman. A good enough egg, but strictly high pressure. A friend of mine had some property up in the mountains. Holgate offered to trade it for a couple of lots in his subdivision. She went for it in a big way.

  “After the trade had been made for about sixty days, it turned out there was a new highway going through the mountains and the location went right through the property this girl had owned. I don’t know how much Holgate made out of it, but it was plenty.”

  “Did she do anything about it?” I asked.

  “She didn’t,” Dale said. “But I had a talk with Holgate.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He laughed at me.”

  “So,” I said, “in case you were in a position to jail Holgate for drunk driving, hit-and-run…I’m beginning to see a great light.”

  “And I’m beginning to see a great light,” Chief Dale said. “For your information, Lam, there’s a special meeting of the council at nine-thirty this evening and one of the subjects on the agenda is getting a new police chief. When you dropped into my office it was manna from heaven. I hadn’t told my wife about it because I didn’t want to worry her. I was going to go home, have cocktails and dinner, and had made arrangements to be summoned on the telephone so I could go up to the council meeting and be available. But they hadn’t invited me to be present. They were having an executive session and I gather my successor may have already been picked out sub rosa—Here’s a good isolated telephone booth. Put through your call. Got all the money you need?”

  “I have plenty,” I said.

  “Okay, I’ll wait here.”

  The chief settled back in the car and lit a cigar. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  I put through a call to the office.

  Bertha Cool answered. “Where the hell are you?” she said. “My God, do you know what’s happened? That sonofabitch, Frank Sellers, let that Ace High Detective bastard sell him on the idea you were cutting corners. Heaven knows what sort of evidence they cooked up, but Sellers rang me up and told me to have you surrender yourself at once.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him the truth. I told him you’d gone out and I didn’t know where you were, and he said I had fifteen minutes to locate you and if I didn’t locate you in that time he was putting out an all points bulletin, that he was tired of being made a patsy.”

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “That’s it—Oh, wait a minute. Elsie wants to talk with you.…Where the hell is she? She said she had something else that might interest you. I guess she’s gone out.”

  “All right,” I said. “Here’s what I want you to do, Bertha. Get in your car and drive just as fast as you can to the Miramar Apartments in Colinda. You locate Elsie. Leave a message for her in her apartment house if you can’t do anything else. Tell her to bring her scrapbook on automobile accidents and hit-and-run and get the hell out there just as fast as she can. I’ll meet you there.”

  “How soon?”

  “As soon as you get there.”

  “Do I get dinner first?” Bertha asked.

  “Hell, no,” I said. “You get out there just as fast as you can, and get Elsie out there.”

  I hung up the phone and started putting on an act. I’d pretend to drop a coin, then I’d dial a number. I kept that up for nearly ten minutes, pretending to talk and listen.

  Chief Dale sat in the car, grinning. When he showed signs of getting restless I went out of the booth.

  “Took you long enough,” he said.

  “I had several calls.”

  “All done?”

  “All done, Chief.”

  “Well, Donald, I don’t want to be hauled on the carpet for conspiring to protect a felon. You’re wanted for murder. Hold out your wrists.”

  I held out my wrists. The chief snapped handcuffs on them. “You’re under arrest,” he said. “You’re my prisoner. And I just want you to know that while you’re my guest in the jail at Colinda, if there’s any damned thing on earth you want, all you’ve got to do is to mention it. You can have special meals, special attention, a telephone in your cell, you can see anybody you want to. You can have anything you want except a dame. That I can’t get for you.”