The one certain thing was that Walt and I couldn’t sit around and wait for the murderer to come in and sit down in our lap. We had a little circumstantial suspicion, of course, in connection with Edward Henderson and Benny Thomas — and with the super, Gus Brokaw, until we could check his story — but that’s all it was: circumstantial. And before we got much further, we’d have to know a lot more about the girl herself.
I called the sergeant I’d posted in the apartment, told him where I was going, that I should be back within an hour or so, and then walked to the station house to check out an RMP car. I never phone people before I go to question them. Whether they’re guilty of involvement or not, it gives them time to anticipate questions and think up the right answers. And the ‘right’ answers, for the person you want to interrogate are sometimes far different from the ones you get when you hit them cold. No one likes being questioned by police, and even wholly innocent people can twist the truth into some pretty fantastic shapes. The ideal situation occurs when the person to be questioned has absolutely no inkling that he is to be questioned — until the interrogation actually begins.
Walt and I, of course, had been taken off the regular duty roster the moment the skipper knew we had drawn a homicide. We would be on special detail until the case was disposed of, relieved of all other duties and investigations, and expected to stay on the job day and night until we’d finished it. If we got any sleep at all, it would have to be during one of the infrequent lulls which sometimes occur when detectives have done everything they can and must wait for developments beyond their control.
I got the white-topped Ford under way and headed downtown to talk to Ann Tyner.
7
The receptionist at the advertising agency directed me to the photographic studios on the fifth floor. There were several sets and props scattered about, but people were working at only one of them. I walked over and asked a young man in a blood-red waistcoat and pink slacks to point out Ann Tyner to me. He indicated one of four girls grouped around a washing machine. All four were very pretty, all wore simple housedresses, and all looked down at the washing machine with varying degrees of ecstasy. I started forward.
“Hold it a minute, buddy,” the man in the red waistcoat said. “They’re ready for the take.”
I nodded, watching while another man trucked a large color camera an inch or so closer to the group, ducked his head beneath a black cloth, and yelled, “Now!” There was a blinding flash of white light, the camera shutter made a small thumping sound, and instantly the girls’ ecstasy changed to boredom and they moved away from the washing machine.
I walked over to the girl who’d been pointed out to me as Ann Tyner.
“Miss Tyner?” I asked.
She started a smile, then noticed that I couldn’t be anyone of importance to her, and let the smile go. “Yes?” She was blue-eyed, with very short dark hair and a body that looked as if it would never grow used to housedresses.
I identified myself. She glanced at my card without any change in expression. The other girls had gone over to talk to the cameraman.
“I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes,” I said.
“Can you wait till I get out of this damned dress? I feel like Mother Hubbard.”
“This won’t take long.”
She shrugged. “Well, at least let’s sit down. I’ve been standing in front of that stupid washing machine for almost an hour.” She indicated a couple of kitchen chairs that had been part of the set for the photograph. “Over there.”
I followed her and we sat down.
“Now,” she said. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“You’re a friend of Barbara Lawson’s, aren’t you?”
“I know her.”
“How well?”
“Well enough to want to know why you ask.”
“She a particular friend of yours?”
“Yes, she is. Why?”
“I hope you won’t mind if I ask the questions, Miss Tyner. It’s usually best that way.”
“Listen. Barbara’s my best friend. If something’s happened that concerns her, I want to know about it. You can save that hard-cop talk for somebody else. What’s wrong?” She still hadn’t changed her expression very much, and she hadn’t raised her voice at all, but I could sense that she was alarmed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but we’ll have to do it my way.”
“That’s right. It’s always the cop’s way, isn’t it?”
“Do you know most of Barbara’s friends, Miss Tyner?”
“I know all of them.”
“Can you tell me if she has any serious enemies?”
“Well, this racket is a good place to breed them. It’s strictly dog eat dog, and naturally Barbara...” She paused. “Something awful’s happened to her, hasn’t it?”
“Just answer the question, please.”
She stared at me, biting at her lip. There was an almost imperceptible sheen of perspiration on her forehead and her eyes seemed to have grown a little darker.
“She isn’t the kind to have really serious enemies. She always goes out of her way to avoid trouble with the other girls. Other models, I mean. There’s always a lot of spatting and feuding going on in this business, but she never takes any part in it. Now tell me what’s hap—”
“Do you know any of the men she went out with?”
She leaned toward me, studying my face intently. “You said ‘went out with’ — not ‘goes out with’ but ‘went.’ ”
“Well, I—”
“Does that mean she’s — that she’s dead?”
There’s a limit. “Yes,” I said. “She was killed last night.”
Ann Tyner caught her lower lip between her teeth and I heard the sudden, sharp hiss as she drew in her breath.
“How?” she whispered finally. “How was she killed?”
“She was stabbed.”
“Murdered? Barbara? Oh, no... Oh, no...”
“I’m sorry to bring the news,” I said. “But these things happen and—”
“But who... who could have done such a thing?”
“We don’t know,” I said. “But we’ll find out.”
Her eyes narrowed a trifle. “Good lord! Maybe I even talked to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I called her this morning. I knew she didn’t have any assignments, and neither did I, and I thought we might spend the day together. Anyhow, when I called, a man answered the phone. He sounded funny — you know, like there was something wrong with his being there. He said Barbara wasn’t there, and I asked him to have her call me. But then I got an emergency call to fill in on this picture, and I had to leave.”
“I answered the phone,” I told her. “I was there in the apartment when you called.”
“Oh... I see.”
“I know this is rough on you, Miss Tyner, but the more you can tell us about Barbara Lawson, the sooner we may catch the person that killed her.”
“It was a man, wasn’t it?”
“Not necessarily. The odds kind of look that way, but there’s no reason to be sure.”
“I wish I had a drink.”
“Time’s very important just now, Miss Tyner.”
“Yes... yes, of course. Just what do you want to know?”
“Everything you can tell me. What kind of person she was, the people she ran around with, any habits that might have thrown her in with dangerous characters. Say she used dope or gambled or was playing around with some other woman’s husband — I’d want to know about it. We’ll find out anyway, but the sooner we know the sooner we can break the case.”