“I believe there’s tangible evidence.”
Peremptory knuckles sounded in a preliminary knock on the door and then the door was shoved open.
Frank Sellers stood on the threshold. “All right, Pint Size,” he said, “let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Los Angeles... Who’s the dame?”
“Mrs. Badger,” I said, “may I present my warm, personal friend, Sergeant Frank Sellers of the Los Angeles police.”
She froze up. “Indeed,” she said, then nodded very distantly. “Good morning, Sergeant Sellers.”
Sellers looked her over, said, “I’d like to talk with you, Mrs. Badger.”
“Her attorney is on his way down here,” I said. “I think you’ve met the attorney. His name is Fowler. I believe it’s Marvin Estep Fowler.”
Sellers made some remark under his breath.
Minerva Badger stood looking at Sellers, apparently unable to take her eyes off him.
Sellers said, “Come on, Pint Size, we’re leaving quick.”
“How?”
“Charter plane, a fast one.”
“Where?” I asked. “To Denver?”
He shook his head. “Los Angeles.” He shifted the cigar in his mouth and said, “I’m going to get to the bottom of this if it takes the whole police force to do it. There’s something fishy about this and I don’t like it. This Tessie the Tumbler may be sitting pretty with an attorney to represent her in Las Vegas, but unless she gives me the information I want, she’s going to be extradited to California to face a couple of criminal conspiracy warrants there, and I think I’m going to have the goods on her.”
I looked at Minerva. There was, for a moment, sheer panic in her eyes, then she looked desperately at her wrist watch.
I did some thinking, said to Sellers, “Want to wait until after the attorney gets here, or go now?”
“We go now,” Sellers said. “Do you get it? Now.”
We went.
I had thought Sellers was planning to give me a third degree on the plane, but he sat there chewing on his cigar saying nothing.
“What’s the idea?” I asked, when we looked down at the Los Angeles airport.
“I’m getting back in my own bailiwick,” he said. “Denver can come to me and Las Vegas can come to me. I don’t need to go to them.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know yet, Pint Size,” he said. “I know that I want you, but I don’t know just how I’m going to get at you right now. Maybe you’re a friend. That is, maybe you want to act friendly. If you do, I’ll give you a break. Maybe you want to play smart aleck. If you do, it’s going to be too bad. And,” he added, taking the cigar from his mouth and poking the end at me in little forceful gestures, “maybe you tried to mastermind this whole damned business, and if you did it’s going to be just awfully too bad. You’re going to lose a lot more than your license. You’re going to lose your liberty.”
“And what do I do now, consider myself in custody?”
“I want to know where you are every five minutes,” Sellers said. “Go on to your apartment. Go to your office. Go see your best girl. Have a good dinner, go to bed if you want to, but be where I can put my hand on you at five minutes’ notice. And if you think I’m kidding, just try to duck out and see what happens. I’ll have you where I can put my hand on you any time, day or night.”
I said, “Okay, I’ll be at my apartment,” and went home.
I called the Las Vegas motel and asked for Elsie. She had checked out. I called Las Vegas and asked for Minerva Badger. Her phone didn’t answer. I called Denver, Colorado, and tried to get Alting Badger. I was advised he was unavailable.
I said that I would talk with Mellie Belden.
After a moment, her voice came on the line — cool, calm, competent, “May I take a message?” she asked. “This is Mr. Badger’s secretary.”
“You may take a message,” I said. “Tell Badger not to get panic-stricken, to sit tight and continue to be unavailable.”
“I take it this is Mr. Lain talking?”
“That’s right.”
“He’s told me about you,” she said. “Thank you. I’ll see that the message is delivered — if it’s at all possible.”
I took a bath, thought some of ringing the office, decided against it, rang up the airport, asked about Las Vegas schedules, found that there were several planes which had left shortly after I had left with Sellers in his chartered plane.
I rang Elsie Brand’s apartment.
No answer.
I put on clean clothes, mixed myself a drink, waited.
A gentle knock sounded on the door.
I opened it.
Elsie Brand was on the threshold.
“Oh, Donald,” she asked, “Donald, are you all right?”
“So far,” I told her, “I’m all right.”
She came rushing into the apartment and threw her arms around me. “Donald, I’m so glad, so terribly, terribly glad. I was afraid that you’d be... well, in trouble.”
“I am in trouble.”
She laughed and said, “I meant in jail.”
“I’m not in jail,” I said, and then added significantly, “yet.”
“Oh, Donald, you—”
The door which had been left ajar was pushed open, and Minerva Badger stood on the threshold.
She looked at Elsie and said, “I was on the same plane with you, Mrs. Lam, but you didn’t know it. You were in tourist. I was in the first class section.”
She seated herself and said, “All right, what are we going to do about it — but I want to assure you of this much, Mrs. Lam, I had no idea that Donald was married.”
I slipped an arm around Elsie’s waist and said, “I think Elsie is forgiving me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s forgiving you. You tried to buy me with sex.”
“With sex and money,” Minerva Badger said. “Those are the two things I happen to have the most of at the moment.”
I drew Elsie close to me, “Don’t mind her, honey,” I said. “She’s being a little coarse. I never did fall for her.”
“All right,” Minerva went on, “so now we find out the guy is married. It’s okay with me. We’ll leave the sex out of it and start talking money.”
“How much money?” I asked, holding Elsie in my arms so that Minerva couldn’t see her face.
“Lot’s of money,” she said, “provided I get what I want.”
“And what do you want?”
“Let’s not mince words. A nasty little blackmailer named Deering Canby had evidence, lots of evidence. He unfortunately died very suddenly and no one has been able to find the evidence.”
“No one?” I asked.
“No one,” she said firmly. “I retained a Denver attorney and Mr. Canby’s apartment was searched, ostensibly to look for a will, but my attorney had permission from Canby’s heirs to go through the apartment with a fine-tooth comb. He did it. There wasn’t a smell of what we wanted. However, there was enough stuff to show that Canby was a professional blackmailer... Now then, that opens up interesting possibilities.”
“Are you sure he had the stuff you wanted, this man, Canby?” I asked.
“Of course I’m sure.”
The door was suddenly pushed open. Sergeant Frank Sellers, accompanied by Bertha Cool, barged into the room.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Sellers said. “We’ve got in on a family party.”
“Elsie,” Bertha screamed. “What are you doing here?”
Elsie broke away from my arm hastily, with flaming cheeks.
“You didn’t show up at the office,” Bertha said. “I should have known that you were lolligagging around with Donald somewhere. Sending me on wild-goose chases to Nevada!”
Minerva’s face showed a whole series of expressions.
“Who’s the Jane?” Bertha asked.
“Minerva Badger,” I said. “Las Vegas for the purpose of establishing a six weeks’ residence. More recently of Denver, Colorado.”