Wolf is out in the cold but won’t admit it. Three girls disappear. One is a daughter of a drugstore assistant, McArthur; the other, the daughter of a janitor, Dengate; and the third one is an orphan named Joy Kunz. The disappearances start trouble in the town — panic, excitement and window smashing, that sort of stuff.
Wolf engages us to find the girls. This because he’s got money to burn and hopes to gain favour with the voters. Esslinger, not to be out-done, engages the local Agency, run by Audrey Sheridan. The cops, knowing Starkey, whom they support and is going to be elected anyway, are not working on the case. They reckon if the girls aren’t found it’ll hurt Wolf and Esslinger s chances — they having guaranteed to find them.
That’s the background of the case. The opposition is something to see. No one likes Wolf and consequently they don’t like me. If I’m not careful someone’s going to drop a rock weighing a ton on me. I called on McArthur but got chased away by his Wife. One of Starkey’s boys tailed me and left me a threatening note. Ted Esslinger, Max Esslinger’s son, who knows all three girls, wants them found and never mind about the election. He came with McArthur last night to see me and offered help. His theory is that Starkey has kidnapped the girls to put Wolf and Esslinger on a spot. This may be an idea, although it doesn’t quite check. Evidence points to it, but until I’ve had time to look around I’m not accepting it as the only angle. Briefly, the three girls were photographed by a street-cameraman and all were given tickets to collect the photographs. The place where the photographs are collected is run by Starkey. The girls went to this joint on the day they disappeared. They could have been easily knocked off when they went to the shop, but I don’t see how they were taken from the shop. If they have been killed, where are the bodies?
Things started last night. Another girl disappeared. Ted Esslinger tipped me off. Playing a hunch, I went to the Street-Camera joint and in the window was an enlarged picture of the missing girl, Mary Drake. Too smooth? That’s what I think. Almost like a plant. I got into the shop, and while I was looking around and not finding anything three of Starkey’s men — I’m not sure they were Starkey’s men, but it’s an even bet they were — bust in, snatched the photograph, replaced it with another and beat it. As I was leaving I found a handkerchief with the initials M.D. in the passage by the back door. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there when I arrived. I may be wrong, but I don’t think I could have missed it when I was looking around. It could have been planted when I was in the shop. The whole set-up of the Street-Camera joint is too smooth. It may be a stunt by Wolf or Esslinger to discredit Starkey. Esslinger’s most likely to be pulling it, as his son tipped me off about the joint. Whether Ted is working with his father or is just a stooge, I don’t know. He seems a decent kid, but I’m watching him. On the other hand, it may be Starkey’s scheme to kidnap the girls. I haven’t made up my mind yet.
Dixon, the editor of the “Granville Gazette,” showed me three photos of the girls which were taken by the Street-Camera operative. I culled on Dixon as soon as I found what kind of opposition I was up against, but I only got one thing out of him before some guy phoned and told him to shut his mouth. He did say that Esslinger had no confidence in Audrey Sheridan to break the case. He was putting her on the job as window-dressing.
I went along to Dixon’s place after finding the handkerchief An unidentified woman had got there before me. I ran into her on her way out and she pulled a Jap trick on me. While I was out she took the handkerchief off me. Later I found Dixon had been knocked off Someone had tied a cord too tightly around his neck. The three photographs had gone and he hadn’t been dead more than ten minutes. The woman could have killed him and taken the photographs, but strangling with a cord isn’t the way women kill. Although expert jiu-jitsu is a novelty too. The three photographs and the handkerchief were good enough evidence to set the F.B.I. working, but I haven’t got them now. The woman might be Audrey Sheridan or she might be one of Starkey’s molls. I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. She certainly made a sucker out of me.
This morning Chief of Police Macey and a stooge called. They acted tough, but it was a bad act. They thought I had something. Whether they thought I had the three photographs and the handkerchief I’m not sure, but they went through my room like they were looking for something important. I bluffed them into thinking I had something on Starkey, and if I’m to stay healthy I’ve got to keep them thinking along those lines.
They told me Dixon had clod of a heart attack. This might mean either of two things: (1) Starkey killed him to get the photographs and the police are covering him up, or (2) they don’t want anything to interfere with or take the limelight off the fourth kidnapping. The murder of the town’s editor would be bigger news than the disappearance of a working girl. Starkey and Macey want to create as much unrest in the town as possible.
Before long something’s going to happen to bust the lid off this town. When that does happen a lot of people are going to get very tough indeed. I take it you ‘re charging Wolf danger money? I’d hate to be killed at our usual rates. I’d hate to he killed anyway. I’ll let you know what progress I make. If you’ve got a joss stick, move’s the time to burn it. I want all the spiritual support I can get.
I was signing this when the telephone rang It was Ted Esslinger.
“Hullo there,” I said.
“Did you find anything?” His voice sounded thin and far away.
“No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.” I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling someone was listening in. “Don’t talk now,” I went on, “I’ll call you sometime today. There’s one thing you can tell me. Is there a dame in this town who practises jiu-jitsu?”
“What?” His voice sounded startled. “What did you say?”
I repeated what I had said.
“Jiu-jitsu?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Why, yes. Audrey Sheridan used to do it. Her father taught her. But I don’t know if she can do it now. Why do you ask that?”
“Never mind,” I said, and hung up.
I walked across the fine green lawn and rang the bell in the brick portico under the peaked roof.
The same noiseless, sharp-eyed manservant came to the door.
“Good morning, sir,” he said. “Mr. Wolf is in.”
I followed him into the lobby.
“If you will wait a moment.” He went on and walked off down the passage.
I could hear the tappity-tap-tap and the thin bell and muffled whir of Miss Wilson’s typewriting coming through the closed door of her office. There was a fresh, pleasant scent of flowers in the lobby. At the end of the passage double glass doors opened onto the garden.
The manservant came back. “This way, if you please,” he said.
I followed him into Wolf’s study.
He said, “Mr. Spewack, sir,” softly, and closed the door behind me.
Wolf was sitting by the open window. His thin lips were clamped round a green dapple cigar. A small table at his side was covered with legal-looking documents and he was holding other papers in his fat hand.
“Have you found ’em?” he barked as soon as the door closed.
I pulled up a chair and sat down. “Let’s get this straight,” I said shortly. “You may be hiring me, but I don’t have to take anything from you or anyone else.”