human. “The Inspector, in spite of what Mr. Merryweather says, is a
brilliant investigator. He has caught more criminals by pretending to
know nothing when he has known the ful facts than any other of the
Yard’s personnel. I should be most careful what you say or do as far as
he’s concerned.”
“Okay, I’ll remember that,” I said. “Now the next step is to dig and
keep digging until we find something important to work on. I’m sure
you’re right about Netta. She’s alive and she’s arranged with Cole to
identify this dead woman as herself. That explains why the body was
kidnapped. They are keeping the body away from me. Will you go
down to Lakeham right away and keep an eye on Mrs. Brambee’s
cottage? Look out for Netta. I think she’s hiding there. I’ll do what I
can up here and in a couple of days or so we’ll get together and see
how far we’ve got.”
Littlejohns said he’d go to Lakeham immediately, left with a much
more sprightly step than when he had come.
The rest of the day I worked at my first article on Post-War Britain
for the United News Agency. I had already obtained a considerable
amount of material for the article so I was able to settle in my room
and make my first rough draft. I became so absorbed in my work that
the problem of Netta and her sister ceased to nag me. By six-thirty I
had completed the draft, and decided to leave it until the next day
before polishing and checking my facts.
I rang for the floor waiter, lit a cigarette and sat before the open
window looking down on the Embankment. Now that I had put the lid
on my typewriter, Netta took over my thoughts. I wondered what
Corridan was doing. The more I thought about Littlejohns’s theory the
more sure I was that Corridan knew that Netta hadn’t committed
suicide, and that I might be hooked up in the case in some way.
The floor waiter, who was fast beginning to learn my habits,
arrived at this moment with a double whisky, water and ice bucket. I
added a little water and ice to a lot of whisky, stretched out more
comfortably in the arm-chair. Now what, I asked myself, was I going to
do to help solve the puzzle of the missing body? As far as I could see
there were three things I could do that might lead to something: first,
I could find out all I could about Julius Cole. If the girl who had died in
Netta’s flat was not Netta, then Julius Cole was in this business up to
his neck. It would obviously pay to keep an eye on him. Then there
was Madge Kennitt, the occupier of the first-floor flat. She might have
seen something. I had to find out if anyone had called the night the
girl died. I had a hunch that Netta wasn’t involved in this business, but
had, in some way, been implicated against her will. If that was so a
third person had been in the flat on that night. Madge Kennitt might
have seen him or her. Final y, I could visit the Blue Club, and try to find
out if Netta had any special friends among the hostesses, and if she
did, and if I could locate her, to find out from her anything about
Netta that might give me a lead.
By the time I had finished my whisky, I had decided to visit the
Blue Club. I took my shower, changed into a dark suit and wandered
downstairs for an early supper in the almost deserted grill-room.
I arrived at the Blue Club a few minutes to nine o’clock, too early
for the main crowd, but late enough to find the cocktail bar full.
The Blue Club was a three-storey building half-way up Bruton
Mews behind Bruton Place. It was a shabby, faded-looking place, and
you could pass it without knowing it was there. But inside you
stepped from a cobbled dreary Mews, into a miniature palace of
rather overpowering luxury.
The cocktail bar was on the same floor as the dance room. I
wandered in, glanced around, failed to see a vacant seat so I crossed
to the bar, propped myself up.
Sam, the barman, recognized me, gave me a broad welcoming
smile.
“Hi, Sam,” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Harmas,” he said, polishing a glass and setting it
before me. “Nice to see you again. You al right?”
“Pretty good,” I said, “and how’s your girl friend?”
Sam had always confided to me about the ups and down of his
love-life, and I knew he expected me to inquire what the latest
position was.
“I get discouraged sometimes, Mr. Harmas,” he said, shaking his
head. “That girl of mine has a split mind. One part of it says yes, the
other no. As they both operate at once, I’m kept on my toes
wondering whether to retreat or advance. It’s getting bad for my
nerves. What will you drink, sir?”
“Oh, a Scotch,” I said, glanced around the room.
I could see the crowd wasn’t the kind that’d interest me. The girls
were tough, showily dressed and on the make. The men were smooth,
looked as if they’d escaped military service, and had too much
doubtfully earned money to spend.
“Things have changed a lot, haven’t they, Sam?” I said, as I paid
twice as much for my drink as I pay elsewhere.
“They have, sir,” he agreed, “and a great pity, too. I miss the old
crowd. This bunch’s just trash. They give me a pain to waste liquor on
them.”
“Yeah,” I said, lighting a cigarette. “I miss the old faces, too.”
We chatted for a few minutes about the past, and I told him what
I was doing here, then I said, “Sad about Netta. You read about it, I
guess?”
Sam’s face clouded. “I read about it. It beats me why she did it.
She seemed happy enough, and she was doing fine here. She had
Bradley eating out of her hand. Any idea why she did it?”
I shook my head. “I’ve only just arrived, Sam, I reminded him. “I
saw the thing in the newspapers, but I was hoping you could tell me
what was behind it. Poor kid. I’ll miss her. What are the other bims
like here?”
Sam pulled a face. “They’ll take the hide off your back if they
thought they could make it into a pair of gloves,” he said gloomily.
“They have a one-track mind—if you can cal what they’ve got minds.
I’d lay off ‘em if I were you, except Crystal. You should meet Crystal.
She’s quite an experience. I’ll fix it if you’re looking for a little female
society.”
“She’s new here, isn’t she?” I asked, not recal ing the name. He
grinned. “New and fresh,” he said. “Came about a year ago. Can I fix
you another drink?”
“Go ahead,” I said, pushing my glass towards him, “and buy one
for yourself. She wasn’t a friend of Netta’s, was she?”
“Well, I don’t know about being friends, but they sort of got on
together. The other dames didn’t appeal to Netta. She was always
fighting with them, but Crystal . . . well, I don’t think anyone would
fight with Crystal. She’s a real dizzy blonde.”
“She sounds what I’ve been looking for. Dizzy blondes are up my
alley. Is she a looker?”
Sam kissed his fingers, wagged his head. “She’s got a topography
like a scenic railway, and every time she comes into the bar the ice
cubes go on the boil.”
I laughed. “Well, if she’s free and would like a big guy with hair on