He looked at me wide-eyed and swallowed hard. Evidently the idea of Henrietta Ryan with a mashed head did things to his insides.
I continued, “You know the Halloween stunt of balancing a bucket of water on top of a door so that when you open it, it comes down and drenches you?” He nodded. “Two weeks ago I went back to the apartment and found the lock broken. When I opened my bedroom door, I was moving quite rapidly. That’s what saved me. I was hurrying to see if all my things were safe — jewelry and clothes. A plain cardboard carton had been put up there. It had a rock in it twice the size of your head. It smashed on the floor so terribly hard it broke two floor boards. The edge of the carton barely grazed my— Well, you see it fell right in back of me and—”
“I see,” he said quickly. It’s refreshing to meet a man who can blush.
“Those are the only three attempts.”
“Does anyone beside the two of us know about them?”
“A girl named Betty Lafferty knows about the rock, nothing else. She lives with me. She’s a girl I played with when I was little over in Brooklyn. She’s had simply awful luck. She’s a companion and secretary and keeps the place neat and does the cooking when we eat in. I pay her a good salary.”
“How good?”
“A hundred a week. I gross about fourteen hundred a week from all sources, including the record sales. Betty is a tax deduction. My net after taxes is around four and a quarter a week.”
“How about your list of suspects?”
I fiddled with the catch on the red purse. “How does this sound? Suppose I just arrange that you meet all the people who could have some crazy reason for killing me. You can form your own opinions. You can start taking me out. I hope it won’t get you into too much of a mess with your wife.”
He jingled the change in his pockets, blushed again. “I haven’t got one.”
“All the better,” I said briskly. “Are you busy tonight? Good. Here’s my address. I have to be at the Club at nine. The food there is just dreadful. Pick me up at six and we’ll eat some place, then you can take me to the Club.”
He smiled. “Sounds wonderful.”
I then pulled something that I shouldn’t have done. I walked briskly to the door, hearing him hurry along to open it for me. I stood so close to it that he had to reach around me to get the knob. When he did, I turned and smiled up into his face. The brown eyes were glazed again and he was breathing shallowly. I was surprised that he was so tall. I’m five nine, a big, big girl. He seemed about six two, with that nice, flat rangy build that I like.
Chapter II
Kim Hale, taut and nervous arrived at the apartment at one minute of six. I opened the door and his smile was an expression of utter relief.
“I was worried,” he said in a low voice. “I never should have let you go off alone like that and—”
“Shhh!” I said.
I hadn’t yet put on my lipstick and, as we walked down the four steps into the living room, Betty appeared in the arch that leads to the kitchen, bedrooms and bath.
“Betty,” I said. “This is Kim Hale. You’ve heard me speak of him. Kim, this is Betty Lafferty.”
I saw the questioning look in his eye as he looked at Betty and greeted her, then complete relaxation. Betty is the size of a pint of cream. Rusty red hair, a pert little face and smiling blue eyes. She’s just a wee shade too plump and she laughs a lot.
I hurried into my bedroom, gave a last look of inspection, touched up the lipstick, scooped up purse, hat and gloves and went back into the living room. I didn’t want to give them too much time together until I had briefed Kim on where and how we had met.
I told Kim and Kim told the cabbie to take us to Lamont’s on Sixty-third. Kim looked wonderfully nice. I decided that I never would tell him that he was the fourth lawyer I had gone to, and that I hadn’t liked the looks of the first three enough to tell them the story.
Ramond recognized me and, smiling, led us to a quiet corner in the cocktail lounge and said that he would call us when the proper table was ready. I told him we wanted to eat at quarter to eight. He glanced at his watch, smiled again, and walked off.
“What do you think of Betty?” I asked.
“Cute as a button! Very nice.”
“Potential murderess?”
“Could be,” he said slowly. “Anyone could be. That’s the trouble with the world. Smiling faces can hide some very savage souls.”
The way he said it, gave me the shivers. And I had had my share of goosebumps during the previous two weeks.
“By the way,” I said. “I met you at a party in Los Angeles in early nineteen forty-four. I was singing out there at a place called Jerry’s, on Wilshire. You were a friend of Stan Haskell.”
“Who’s he?”
It’s a struggle to keep from self pity whenever I remember Stan. He was the one. Maybe he’ll always be the one. It seems that way.
“He’s dead. Killed in the war. And so nobody can check. Were you ever in Los Angeles?”
He smiled. “I was in Los Angeles in nineteen forty-four. I was at Camp Anza waiting to go overseas. And I heard you sing at Jerry’s.”
There was a rough and yet tender note in his voice that made me wonder if maybe I should reappraise the shy young lawyer.
“Who do you want me to meet tonight particularly?” he asked.
“Sonny Rice, of course, the band-leader. And Johnny France, who also sings with the band. We do duets once in a while. Sam Lescott, who owns the joint. Carl Hopper, my agent, if he happens to drop in. Donald Frees, my shadow.”
“Your what?”
“The little man who follows me around. Hopeless love, he says. His folks hold some sort of plastics patents. He’s working up to be a playboy.”
I looked across the room and saw Wallace Wint, the gossip columnist, come in alone and take a table diagonally across from us in the lounge. It gave me an idea. I leaned toward Kim.
“Don’t look now,” I said, “but the disher of dirt is across the way. Wallace Wint. We can get this off to a wonderful start if you want to cooperate. Maybe you’ll be able to read all about us in tomorrow morning’s paper.”
He looked puzzled. “What do I have to do?”
“Don’t be so dull! For one thing, hold my hand across the table and look as if you were in love. I’ll give you the old melting eye. He’ll wonder who you are, after he sees that, and keep an eye on us. Then kiss me.”
He swallowed hard, took my hand and, as I looked softly at him, he said, “Darling, you’re the most beautiful, glamorous lovely thing that ever came along.”
“Hey!” I said.
“Shut up! I’m getting in the mood.”
I risked a glance at Wallace and saw his beady little eyes on us. After a time I moistened my lips and leaned toward Kim, parting them just a little. He leaned across the small table. He was very adequate. He was even deft. It took me a good four seconds after it was over to remember why it had happened. I loosened up on the fingernails that were about to punch holes in his hand.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Excuse yourself and go to the little boy’s room. I’m sure Wallace will join you.”
He left. I sat sipping my drink. Kim came back in a few minutes. He was grinning to himself.
As soon as Wallace Wint left, Kim said, “He came in and asked me if I were John Whitson. I told him no, and he said I looked like John and he asked me if I were an artist too. I told him that I was a lawyer and that my name was Kimberly Hale. Then he said that he noticed I was with you. I said that he was a good noticer. He gave me a very lewd look and asked if it was a serious thing, or if I was just a fancy passing. He told me who he was. I put one hand against his chest and pushed him a little. I said that if he felt like sticking anything in his column, it better be dignified, or I’d personally print a small personal message on his hide. He assured me that he was always dignified and asked me if a date had been set. I told him he should ask you and if you wanted to confirm it, it was okay with me. He asked me if you’d stop singing commercially, and I told him certainly not.”