“There isn’t any story. Mr. Kimberly and I decided to look in on Stella Lynn, and we found her lying dead on the floor. We called the police.”
“That certainly is a succinct statement,” Nelson said.
“I don’t know how I could elaborate on it.”
“You didn’t know Stella Lynn well?”
“Not particularly well, no.”
“How did it happen that you went to call on her, then?”
“It was Mr. Kimberly’s suggestion.”
“And why did he want to call on her last night?”
She said, “I’m afraid Mr. Kimberly doesn’t think it necessary to confide in me.”
“Perhaps he’ll be a little less reticent with me,” Nelson said.
“Perhaps.”
Nelson turned toward the door. “Well, I just wanted to find out what you knew about Stella Lynn’s background,” he said. “I’ll talk with Kimberly, and then I’ll be back.”
He walked out without a word of farewell.
As the door closed, E. B. picked up the telephone and said to the receptionist, “A man by the name of Nelson is leaving my office. He wants to see Mr. Kimberly. I want him to be delayed until I can get Kimberly on the phone and— What’s that?... Oh, I see... Well, that explains it. All right.”
E. B. hung up, looked at Peggy, and said, “That’s why he didn’t ask to have Kimberly in on our conference. Mr. Kimberly is not in the office this morning. No one seems to know where he is.”
He paused for a moment, digesting that information, then said, “Of course, that is a temporary expedient. It gives him a certain margin of time— I notice you didn’t tell Detective Nelson about that letter, Miss Castle.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t fit in with Kimberly’s version of what happened. Kimberly says Stella Lynn called him up around ten thirty in the morning and told him that she had to see him. He’s the one who suggested the Royal Pheasant. Yet this letter, which was postmarked the day before, informed me that Kimberly and Stella Lynn were going to be dining at the Royal Pheasant.”
E. B. regarded Peggy thoughtfully for a moment. “You have a remarkably shrewd mind, Miss Castle.”
She flushed. “Thank you.”
“Now, just what do you have in your mind?”
She said, “Stella Lynn’s desk. I’d like to clean it out. She’ll have some private stuff in there. I’d like to look through it before the police do. No one has said anything about—”
“A splendid idea,” E. B. said. “Get busy. And don’t tell me what you’re doing. I’d prefer not to know all the steps you’re taking. That desk, for instance. In case you should find a diary or something... well, you’ll know what to do.”
E. B. regarded her over the tops of his glasses. “I’m sure you’ll know what to do.”
Peggy placed a cardboard carton on top of Stella Lynn’s desk and began to clean out the drawers, fully realizing that the typists at the adjoining desks were making a surreptitious check on all her actions.
There were bits of chewing gum, a magazine, a pair of comfortable shoes to be worn at work, a paper bag containing a pair of new nylons, a receipt for rent on her apartment, a small camera in a case, and a half-empty package of tissues. There was no diary. But there was a disarray of the drawers, as if they might have been hurriedly searched at an earlier hour, perhaps before the office had opened.
Peggy wondered what had led E. B. to believe there might be a diary in the desk. She dumped the contents of the desk into the carton, tied the carton with heavy string, and then, with a crayon, printed the name “Stella Lynn” on the side. Having done all this to impress the typists at adjoining desks, Peggy carried the carton back to her own office.
When the door was safely closed she opened the package and inspected the camera. The figure “10” appeared through the little circular window on the back of the camera, indicating that nine pictures had been taken.
Peggy turned the knob until the roll had been transferred to the take-up spool, removed it from the camera, and carefully wiped off the camera to remove her fingerprints. She slipped the camera back into its case, put the case into the carton, tied the carton up with string, and stepped to the door of E. B.’s private office.
She tapped on the door. When she received no answer, she tried the knob; it turned and she gently opened the door.
E. B. was not in his office.
She went back to her desk. A piece of paper that had been pushed under the blotter caught her eye. She pulled it out.
It was a note from E. B., scrawled hastily.
Miss Castle:
As soon as you left my office I recalled an urgent matter that had escaped my attention in the excitement over the interruption of our regular morning program. It is a matter of greatest importance and must be kept entirely confidential. I am working on that matter and expect to be out of the office for some time. I will get in touch with you as soon as I have a definite schedule. In the meantime I will be unavailable.
It was signed with the initials “E. B.”
Peggy looked at it. “Well,” she said, “Kimberly and Halsey. That makes it unanimous.”
Peggy batted her eyes and turned her most charming manner on Mrs. Maxwell, the apartment-house manager.
“I certainly hope you don’t think I’m too ghoulish, Mrs. Maxwell, but, after all, a girl has to live.”
Mrs. Maxwell nodded almost imperceptibly, studying her visitor through narrowed eyes around which pools of flesh had been deposited so that the eyes seemed to be about half normal size. Her hair had been dyed a brilliant orange-red, and her cheeks had been rouged too heavily.
“Apartments are so hard to get,” Peggy went on, “and, of course, I read in the paper about Stella Lynn’s unfortunate death. So I know that the apartment is untenanted, and I know that you’re going to have to rent it. Some people might be superstitious about moving into an apartment of that sort, but I definitely am not, and, well, I thought I’d like to be the first applicant.”
Again the nod was all but imperceptible.
“I’m not too well fixed,” Peggy said. “I’m an honest working girl, and I don’t have any — protector — in the background, but I do have fifty dollars saved up that I’d planned to use as a bonus in getting exactly the right kind of apartment. If this apartment suits me, since I wouldn’t have any need for the bonus, I’ll give it to you in gratitude for the personal inconvenience of showing me the apartment.”
This time the nod of the head was definitely more pronounced, then Mrs. Maxwell said, “My hands are tied right at the moment.”
“In what way?”
“I can’t get in to show the apartment.”
“Oh, surely you have a key—”
“The police have put a seal on both doors, front and back. They’ve been looking for fingerprints—”
“Fingerprints!” Peggy exclaimed. “What do they expect to find out from fingerprints?”
“I don’t know. They’ve put powder over the whole apartment. They’ve ordered me to keep out. They’ve sealed up the doors so they can’t be opened without breaking the seal.”
“Well, you can tell me about the apartment?”
“Oh, yes.”
“How about milk?”
“Milk can be delivered at the back.”
“And the collection of garbage and cans?”
“There are two receptacles, one for cans and glass, one for garbage. The garbage is collected every other day, the cans and glass twice a week. The tenant has to deposit the material in receptacles on the ground floor in the back.”