He sat down and studied my card, then looked up at me, his black eyes lighting up.
‘Well, Mr Wallace, I’m glad to meet you,’ he said. ‘Of course, I know all about your agency. What can I do for you?’
‘I understand you are acting for the late Miss Angus.’
I saw him stiffen.
‘That is correct. I am her executor.’
‘Does the name Terrance Thorsen or Terry Zeigler mean anything to you?’
He nodded.
‘Terry Zeigler. Yes, of course.’
‘I am trying to find him. As Miss Angus and he were friendly I hoped she could have told me where he is, but it seems she is unfortunately dead, so it occurred to me that you might remember her mentioning him to you.’
Lewis pulled at his beard as he regarded me.
‘Why do you want to find him?’
‘The Acme Agency has been hired to find him. I haven’t been told who the client is. I’ve just been told to find him.’
‘Then you and I seem to have the same problem,’ Lewis said, relaxing in his chair. ‘Miss Angus left all her money and effects to Zeigler. I can’t clear up her estate until I have found Zeigler, and up to now, I have not been successful.’
‘But I understand Miss Angus lived in rather a depressed state. She cleaned for Zeigler. How come she would have anything to leave him in her will?’
‘Her estate is worth a hundred thousand dollars, clear of tax,’ Lewis said, not hiding the wistful note in his voice. ‘Miss Angus was eccentric. She never spent her money. She hoarded it. I finally convinced her she should not keep all this money in envelopes, hidden in her home, and persuaded her to put this money in a bank. I am glad to say she did this.’
‘She must have been a real character. You are sure she did put the money in the bank?’
‘Oh, yes. I have checked. She deposited the money with the Pacific & National Bank four days before she was murdered. I am in touch with Mr Ackland, the general manager there. It is now a matter of locating Zeigler.’
‘What have you done to find him?’
He gave a weary smile.
‘The usual things: advertising, the police, the Missing Person’s Bureau. I have done the best I can, but, up to now, and it’s two months ago, I haven’t been able to trace Zeigler.’ He leaned forward and looked hopefully at me. ‘But now you are also looking for him, this gives me hope. If you can’t find him, who can?’
‘Suppose he’s dead? What happens to the money?’
‘If he died after Miss Angus it would go to his next of kin. But I have to be sure he is dead.’
Another blind alley.
I got back to my office by taxi. Thankful for the air conditioner, I sat at my desk and typed my report. I had just finished when Bill came in, mopping his face.
‘Hell!’ he moaned, dropping into his chair. ‘It’s awful outside.’
‘What have you got for me?’
‘Good hunch of yours. A big black buck came out, got into a white Caddy and took off. I followed him to the Black Cassette. He got out and went in, then a young black came out and took the Caddy away.’
‘Tell me about the big black.’
Bill grimaced.
‘A real tough, and make no mistake about that. He stands around six foot six: a small head on shoulders a yard wide. He was wearing a sweatshirt and I could see his muscles, like oranges, rippling. He moved like a dancer. He had hands like hams. He looked as dangerous as a cobra. That’s it, Dirk. I didn’t need to enquire if he was Hank Smedley.’
I looked at my watch. It was close on two hours since I had talked to Dolly Gilbert. It was time to see her again. I gave Bill my report.
‘See you, Bill. Stick around,’ and leaving him, I rode down to the street, got in my car and headed for the Breakers.
I had only to thumb her bell push when the door jerked open, and there she was, giving me the usual whore’s smile of welcome.
‘Come on in, gorgeous,’ she said. ‘Sorry about the delay, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.’
I entered the big living room as she closed the door.
‘Look, honey,’ she said, ‘I’m a little pressed for time. Let’s have my present — fifty bucks, and let’s go into action. Right?’
I walked by her into the bedroom, looked into the kitchen, then the tiny bathroom, then satisfied we were alone, I returned to the bedroom where she was standing by the bed, regarding me uneasily.
‘You scared of something, mister?’ she asked.
‘No. I want to talk to you, Dolly.’ Taking her by her arm, I led her back into the living room. ‘Sorry, baby, but this isn’t your kind of business.’ I gave her my professional card, then sat down in a shabby but comfortable chair.
She stared for some moments at the card, then she walked up to me and thrust the card at me. She said in a harsh voice, ‘On your way, Buster! Get the hell out of here!’
‘I am looking for information,’ I said, giving her my friendly smile. ‘It pays a hundred bucks. Now don’t tell me you’re not interested in a hundred bucks.’
She stared, then held out her hand.
‘Let’s see the money.’
I took out my wallet, found a hundred-dollar bill, showed it to her, then folded and palmed it.
‘Do we talk?’
She sat down in a chair near mine. Her wrap came apart. She was naked, but her body didn’t appeal to me. OK, she was slim, with good-looking breasts, a flat tummy and dark pubic hair, but she was shop-soiled: not surprising by the way she lived.
‘Talk about what?’
I put my card back in my wallet.
‘I’m looking for Terry Zeigler.’
Her eyes became alert.
‘What makes you think I know anything about Terry?’
‘I don’t. I’m looking for him. I was told you moved into this pad within a couple of hours of him moving out. I thought he might have tipped you off this pad was coming vacant, and you might know where I can find him.’
‘Is it straight that I get that money?’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Brother! Can I use money right now!’
‘Give out, and you get it. Did he tip you he was leaving?’
‘No, but I heard pretty smart. I have friends here and there, though I never got along with Terry.’
To help her to become more out-giving, I unfolded the hundred-dollar bill, regarded it, then refolded it.
‘You don’t know where I can find Terry Zeigler?’
‘Is he in trouble? He kinda left in a hurry. Scared maybe?’
‘I’d say not. Someone has left him money, and it’s my job to find him and give him the money.’
Her eyes widened.
‘How much?’
‘I wouldn’t know. It’s not peanuts.’ I smiled at her. ‘Do you or don’t you know where I can find Terry?’
She shook her head.
‘No, Buster. I don’t know. Imagine that odd guy coming into money! Oh, how I wish someone would leave me some money!’
Was this going to be another dead-end, I wondered.
‘What makes you say Terry is an odd guy?’
‘I only met him a couple of times. He never opened his mouth. He just stared at me as if I was something he had stepped in on the sidewalk. He certainly played a hot piano. If you ask me, I guess he was either crazy or doped.’
‘Do you think he’s a junkie, Dolly?’
‘How the hell do I know? Most of the finks around here are on the needle. That’s something I leave alone. I’ve got to earn money.’
I leaned forward and gave her the hundred-dollar bill.
‘Well, thanks. You’ve been helpful,’ I said. ‘There is one more thing. Does Hank Smedley often visit you?’
She reared back as if I had hit her, then jumped to her feet. Her face was the colour of a soiled sheet.
‘Get out!’ she screamed. ‘I’ve had enough of you! Get out.’