“Sure. There’s no money in that business any more.”
“Then why wouldn’t some other piano player have heard about it and quit his job and taken that one? Why wouldn’t he?”
I didn’t know and said so. Lester said: “I don’t know but I don’t like Kewpie. I think maybe there’s something wrong with him.”
“Sure there is. He’s too fat.”
“I don’t mean that way.”
“Use your head,” I said. “Kewpie ran into me at the Rustic Bar, not even knowing I was in town. He’d heard this job was open out there and thought I was still in the music business. So he told me about it. How can you make anything out of that? And why would he? Why would anybody want me to take a piano job out there? How would anybody know I wanted to meet Mrs. Wendel and think that was a good way to do it? Tell me that.”
“Suppose he knew you were in town and just pretended to run into you? What about that?”
“How would he know? Don’t be silly, Lester.”
Lester said darkly: “There’s something funny about this matter,” and I said: “You’re damned right there is, now that you bring it up. I’ll tell you. You cracked to this blonde bitch about who I was and what I was here for and she’s passed it on. Now don’t tell me you didn’t; I know you did.”
He opened his eyes wide, taking off his glasses and goggling at me like an owl. “But, Shean, I did no such thing. I told her I was a college man, just up here for atmosphere. That I was writing a thesis on the divorce problem.”
“You let it slip, kid. You must have. How could it have gotten out if you hadn’t?”
“I didn’t. I know I didn’t.”
“What about night before last when you got so lousy drunk? You could have told her anything and not have known what you were saying.”
He hung his head and said that he’d been drunk but that he didn’t think he’d said anything about it. I said: “It’s a cinch. And she’s passed it on to Crandall or Mrs. Wendel or to somebody that’s passed it to them.”
He said, surprisingly: “Didn’t I tell you? She knows Crandall and Mrs. Wendel. She was here two weeks before Mrs. Wendel and she met her the first day Mrs. Wendel got here. Crandall’s her lawyer, too.”
“Well, there you are.”
He almost cried and I read him a blistering lecture about going out with big blonde women and getting drunk and making a fool of himself. This was funny, coming from me. I’d made a fool of myself over big blondes and little blondes as well as every other different kind of gal all my life. I had no reason to talk but he was in no position to point that out. Or in no mood. Finally I laid off the flaying and he quit saying he was sorry about everything, including living, and I took another drink and things got back to normal.
Then he handed me a letter and said: “This was downstairs. The clerk said it just came in.”
The letter was from the Gahagan, back in the office. The first of it was a report on some routine work I’d done about checking on a bird that started bad store accounts and skipped out of town. I hadn’t done much good on the thing, but had found that he’d come from Portland, Oregon, and tipped the police there to watch for him. They’d caught him, which meant we’d get a fee from the department store and no argument with it. Good news.
And then she went on with some not so good. Joey Free’s check had bounced and she was going to try it again in a few days. She’d called Joey’s apartment and he hadn’t been there. Wendel had answered the phone and told her Joey had gone to Los Angeles for three or four days and that he was holding the fort. Naturally, she hadn’t said a word to Wendel about Joey’s check coming back on us. She said Free had called Wendel that same morning, from Los Angeles, and had said he’d be back in three or four days, and that Wendel had said he’d stick close to Free’s apartment, in case I wanted to get in touch with him about anything. I winked at Lester, got Long Distance, and said:
“I’d like to speak to Mr. Todhunter Wendel, at Mr. Joey Free’s apartment in San Francisco. Rush this through sister, and I’ll send you a box of candy; I’m on an expense account.”
She said: “I like flowers better; I’m on a diet. D’ya know the number of Mr. Free’s apartment?”
I said I didn’t. She said: “I’ll look it up, Mr. Connell. Anything for you... and the flowers.”
Lester muttered, sotto voce: “I’ll bet she’s blonde,” and I said: “Forget it, kid! I’m a little upset right now. I don’t like to get shot at.”
“Shean, that’s something. You said you thought it was a .22. Would anybody trying to kill a man use a gun that small?”
“It was a .22 rifle, kid. At a distance like that, a good shot can damned near drive tacks with one. They don’t make much noise and with this new high-speed stuff they burn in them now, they’d kill a man as quick as a cannon. That is, if they hit him in the head. Both slugs were at head level.”
“I thought gangsters used revolvers mostly.”
This was funny and struck me that way. “It doesn’t make any difference what’s used to kill a man if it does the business, does it? He’s just as dead.”
Lester agreed this was reasonable. I said: “D’ya think this big amp-tray of yours could find out what the Wendel woman is getting a divorce for? Why her husband can’t see her? How’s that for an angle?”
Lester said doubtfully: “Well, I guess I could ask her. I could ask her to find out, that is.”
“Let it go,” I said, as fast as I could.
The phone rang and the Long Distance girl said: “I like almost any kind of flowers, Mr. Connell. Here’s your party,” and then after the usual amount of clicking back and forth, Wendel said: “Hello! Hello!”
I said: “This is Connell. In Reno.”
“Oh yes, Connell.”
“Where’s Joey Free?”
“In Los Angeles. He called me from there last night and this morning. I’ll ask for his address there when he calls again.”
“Never mind. Who’s your lawyer here?”
“I haven’t one.”
“Wire whoever you’ve got in New York, then, and have them get somebody here to represent you. Anybody but Crandall, tell them. That’s customary. And do it in a hurry and let me know. Is that clear?”
“Of course. I’ll do it at once. How are you coming along? Have you talked with her?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t found anything out yet. This is tough; it takes time.”
I could hear him groan and then he said: “You haven’t much time, Connell. She’s been there over two weeks already.”
“I’ve got four more. What d’ya know about your wife’s maid?”
“Why, nothing at all. Ruth seemed to think she was very satisfactory. Wasn’t that terrible?”
“Didn’t anybody ask you and Joey questions about her?”
“A few. I couldn’t see any connection between the maid and myself and said so, naturally.”
I said: “Okey! Get that dope and shoot it to me in a hurry. All right?”
He said all right and I hung up. The minute I did Lester said: “What did you mean, let it go? Why shouldn’t I ask Hazel to see Mrs. Wendel?”
“I’m afraid you’d botch it up.”
“I’m smart enough not to do that,” he said proudly.
I said I wasn’t so sure, and then: “D’ya suppose she’s got a friend that would like to party? The four of us, I mean.”
“I don’t know.”
I dug out an envelope I’d happened to have in my pocket when I was working at the Club, and said: “Let that go, too. The only thing is, ask her if she’d like to go out tonight.”
He said: “I’ve got a date already.”
I said: “You would. You’re that sheik type,” and got busy on the phone.
I had four numbers and began to believe I was going to draw a blank. The first two girls I called were busy that night. But the third said she’d just love to go out and so on and I said I’d call for her at eight. I’d taken the numbers more from habit than anything else and couldn’t remember just which one of the many Rucci had introduced me to she was, but I figured I’d know her when I met her. I got the house doctor up and had a bit neater job done on my sore ear, and he was just leaving when Kewpie came in.