‘Shirley?’
He jerked his head to a door.
‘In there. Look, Steve, I’ve got a busy night. Can you take her off our hands?’
‘That’s what we’re here for.’ I turned. ‘Jean... will you?’
She nodded and went into the other room.
‘He’ll survive?’
‘Yes, but he’ll be bad for some days. He could lose an eye.’
‘The police?’
‘I’ve told them there’s no point hoping for a statement yet. Poor Wally won’t be talking for at least four or five days.’
Jean brought Shirley out and I went to her. She was crying and shaking.
‘Shirley dear, I’m so sorry...’
She mopped her swollen eyes and glared at me.
‘You and your filthy magazine! I warned Wally... he wouldn’t listen to me!’ She clung to Jean who looked at me, shaking her head.
I stood back and the two women went away.
‘Okay, Steve, inquire as often as you like. He won’t die.’ Stanstead patted my shoulder and hurried away.
Four or five days! I thought of Gordy. My one hope now was Webber. If he couldn’t come up with something, I was sunk.
Slowly, I walked down the long corridor to the reception room.
‘Manson...’
I paused, turned as a big, heavily built man, wearing a slouch hat and a shabby raincoat came over to me. I recognised him as Sergeant Lu Brenner of the city police.
Brenner was pushing thirty-eight. He had a hard face, a flat nose, small restless blue eyes and he always looked in need of a shave: a powerfully built man who I had heard had a reputation for cruelty. I had heard, but had no proof, that his method of interrogation was to hit first in vital spots and then ask questions. Webber had once told me that the only man in the world who meant anything to Brenner was Captain of Police, Schultz. Interested, I had asked why.
‘You may not believe this, but this sonofabitch has a sweet wife. It so happened Mrs. Brenner was coming home when a junkie attacked her. He was high. Schultz — he was lieutenant then — saw the attack. He was too far down the street to be helpful. The junkie had a knife. So Schultz shot him. It was said it was the finest piece of marksmanship ever — an exaggeration, of course, but the slug passed under Mrs. Brenner’s arm and spread the junkie’s brains. She got a scratch from the knife. Brenner has never forgotten. He’s been Schultz’s man now for years and he stays that way.’
I looked at Brenner.
‘You want me?’ I said, pausing.
‘Yeah.’ He glowered at me. ‘This guy Mitford. We’re interested. What’s he been working on?’
‘What’s that to you?’
‘Witnesses say Mitford got out of his car and two punks set on him. They beat him up and went off with a bulging briefcase. What we want to know is if this is a mugging or if someone is trying to stop him shooting his mouth off.’
My mind worked swiftly. Wally had been working on the High school contract. He would certainly have the papers that could fix Hammond, but also he could have had his researching about the Welcome store which could involve a number of Eastlake’s wealthy wives. This was something I wasn’t going to tell Brenner.
‘He was working on the High School contracts,’ I said. ‘The estimates are some fifty thousand dollars over the schedule.’
He stared thoughtfully at me.
‘That’s City Hall business. Was there anything else?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘I’d better talk to his wife. Has she gone back home?’
‘I think so. Don’t be too sure that because this is City Hall business, someone wouldn’t want it hushed up.’
He pushed his hat to the back of his head.
‘Yeah. Well, if you snoopers stick your snouts out, you must expect to run into trouble.’
‘Can I quote you, Sergeant? Mr. Chandler could be interested to hear your views.’
‘Think so?’ His eyes shifted. ‘Be careful you don’t stick your snout out too far,’ and he walked away.
I wondered uneasily how he would react when he read the next issue of the magazine. Shirley would know of the planned attack on Schultz. If Brenner got to her, in her present hysterical mood, she could talk. I hesitated, then went to a telephone booth in the reception hall and called her number. There was no answer. I decided Jean could have taken her to her place and I dialled. Jean answered at once.
‘Have you got Shirley there?’ I asked.
‘I’ve just got her to bed. I’ve given her two pills. She should sleep until tomorrow.’
‘The police want to talk to her, Jean. Keep her under the wraps. What was that about the filthy magazine?’
‘She thinks Wally was attacked because of Hammond.’
‘Does she know about the Welcome?’
‘I don’t think so. She kept babbling about Hammond.’
‘Don’t come in tomorrow until you have quieted her down. I don’t want her talking to the police about the Welcome, Jean.’
‘I’ll handle it. Suppose you call me around eight tomorrow morning?’
‘I’ll do that and thanks again.’
I hung up and went down to my car. There didn’t seem anything else I could do this night. Tomorrow, I would see Ernie Mayhew and try to raise some money. I’d go to the office and read Webber’s report on Gordy. Everything now depended on him. If he failed me I would have to raise the money somehow.
I got back home around 22.15. No lights showed. Had Linda gone to bed? I hoped so. I was in no mood to cope with her right now. Unlocking the door, I went into the living room, turned on the lights and looked around.
There was a sheet of notepaper lying on the table. I picked it up.
The letter said:
Dear Steve,
I am taking Linda to my place. Her eye should be all right in a couple of days, but in the meantime, to stop gossip, I will keep her with me.
Never hit a woman in the face. If you must hit her, slap her bottom. It has the same effect but the bruises don’t show.
I crumpled the letter and tossed it into the trash basket. Then I made myself a drink and sat down.
It would seem I had a long, lonely night with panic edging my mind, ahead of me.
At 08.00 I telephoned Jean.
‘How is Shirley?’
‘She’s fine. She’s right here and wants to speak to you.’
A pause, then Shirley came on the line.
‘Steve! I’m sorry I blew my tiny mind last night: please forgive me.’
I drew in a long deep breath.
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’
‘I’ll say there is! If Wally ever heard! He would kick me humpbacked! I just went crazy after seeing the darling. God! They’ve hurt him!’ Her voice broke. A pause, then she said, ‘The magazine is marvellous, Steve! Wally knew the risks and so did I, but when it came, I couldn’t believe these animals could be so awful.’
‘I’m telling Chandler. He’ll do something for Wally. He’s going to be all right. It’ll take a little time. I talked with Stanstead. You’re not to worry.’ I didn’t tell her Stanstead thought Wally might lose the sight of an eye.
‘Shirley... the police want to talk to you. Be careful what you say to them. No mention of Schultz. That bomb has to go off but not yet. Tell them Wally was working on the High school contract and nothing else... understand?’
‘Yes, of course. Jean’s been a darling. We’re going over to the hospital right now.’
‘I’ll be in touch.’
‘You do understand, Steve?’
‘You’re my girl. Would you give me Jean?’
Jean came on the line.
‘I’m calling Chandler, then I’m going to the bank,’ I said. ‘I’ll stick around the office until you come.’