The receptionist at the Chateau Pelham tore off her headphone as Johnny and Sam walked past her desk, headed for the elevators.
“Just a moment, please!”
Johnny grimaced, but turned back. “We’re just going up to see Miss Cummings.”
“Everyone must be announced.”
“She’s expecting us.”
“Is she? Well, I’ll still have to announce you. Let’s see, one of you is Mr. ah Fletcher, is it?”
“What a memory!” exclaimed Johnny.
“I remember you both. And I do not think Miss Cummings will want to see you. However...” The operator made a phone connection, waited a moment, then said, “Miss Cummings, those two men who were here yesterday... Yes, that’s right... Fletcher...” She showed surprise, then nodded. “Very well, Miss Cummings,” She broke the connection and said disapprovingly to Johnny, “You may go up.”
Johnny winked at her. “I told you she was expecting us.”
They stepped into the elevator. Sam regarded Johnny, puzzled. “I didn’t think she’d let us in.”
Johnny shrugged. “Women!”
They stepped out on Alice Cummings’s floor and before Johnny could even press the door buzzer, the door was opened by Alice Cummings. She was wearing an expensive dressing gown of a delicate violet color. A smile was on her lips, but none in her eyes.
“Come in, Johnny,” she said cordially. “And — Mr. Spragg, is it?”
“Cragg, lady, Sam Cragg.”
“Sam,” Alice Cummings purred. She regarded Sam fondly. “Strong, aren’t you?”
“The strongest man in the world,” Sam replied proudly, flexing his muscles as he passed Alice into the apartment.
Alice Cummings closed the door. “I’m glad you came,” she said, addressing Johnny. “I was a little short of money yesterday. But I have it now.”
“Oh, I didn’t come because of that,” Johnny said. “We’re all squared away, financially.”
“But I don’t believe I gave you enough. I was several dollars short, wasn’t I?”
“We’re always glad to take money,” Sam said.
Johnny shook his head. “You were a little short, but I said it was all right, so it’s settled. You don’t owe a thing.”
Alice Cummings crossed to a table and picked up a red leather purse. “I always pay my debts. Let’s see, the total bill was seventy-four dollars, I believe. And I gave you... how much in bills?”
“Fifty-seven. But—”
“Then I owe you seventeen dollars.” She took out a fat roll of bills and began peeling off notes. “Now, if you’ll just give me back the little bank I gave you for security...”
“I haven’t got it with me.”
“You can get it.” She looked at him sharply. “You haven’t had time to spend those coins, have you?”
“No,” said Johnny, “but don’t bother. I accepted them in full payment.”
“I want them back. I’ve been saving them for a long time.”
“They were only pennies and dimes and quarters. About six dollars’ worth...”
“Get them for me, please. I want them.”
Johnny hesitated. “I don’t know whether I still have them all.”
“You had no right to spend them. They — they’re rare coins.”
“That ain’t what the coin dealer said,” Sam exclaimed. “He offered us two for one, that’s all.”
“So you’ve taken them to a coin dealer,” said Alice Cummings. Her eyes, already hard, became flinty. “You had no right. I gave you that bank just for security—”
“Ever hear of a man named Kilkenny?” Johnny suddenly shot at her.
“Kilkenny—” Alice caught herself. “What’s he got to do with this?”
“He wanted the bank, too.”
“Who is Kilkenny?”
“He’s a collector for the A.A.A. — the Acme Adjustment Agency.”
“Isn’t that the outfit you work for?”
“Not exactly. I don’t really work for the A.A.A. — I was just helping out J.J.”
“Look, Fletcher,” Alice Cummings said bluntly. “I don’t give a hoot and a holler for this A.A.A., or J.J. Kilkenny, or you. I’ve paid you your money and I want what’s mine. I want that goose bank and what’s in it. And I want it now.”
Johnny said, “How long is it since you’ve seen Lester Smith-son?”
Johnny was not sure whether the name scored or not. Alice was already pretty angry. She exclaimed, “Who the devil is Lester Smithson?”
“Jess Carmichael’s cousin.”
“I’m not talking to you about Jess Carmichael. All I want from you is that bank and the coins it contained. I want it today — as soon as you can get it.”
Johnny held out his hand for the seventeen dollars. “All right, Alice, you’ll have it.”
Alice drew back. “Not so fast, you’ll get this money when I get mine. You’ll be back in — an hour?”
“Maybe sooner.” Johnny signaled to Sam and they left the apartment.
In the elevator going down, Sam said, “You got the coins in your pocket, haven’t you? You could’ve given them to her.”
“I would have given them to her, but she was too anxious.”
“That seventeen bucks wouldn’t be bad. That’s about all the coins would bring.”
“According to the dealer we talked to last night. But there are other dealers.”
“The seventeen bucks is sure.”
Johnny made no further comment until they had left the building. Then he said, “Hasn’t it occurred to you that Kilkenny was awfully anxious to get that bank?”
“That’s his job. You know how bill collectors are. He said himself that he was a bloodhound.”
“So am I,” said Johnny grimly. “At least, I’ve got the nose for one and I’m beginning to smell a strange odor. I think we’ll run back to the hotel.”
11
A short while later they re-entered the Forty-Fifth Street Hotel and rode up to the eighth floor. The door of Room 821 was unlocked, which was not too unusual, since the maids were in and out with their cleaning and linens. But when Johnny pushed open the door, he let out a low whistle.
“Jeez!” exclaimed Sam. “The place looks like a cyclone hit it.”
The beds were stripped, the blankets and sheets thrown on the floor. The drawers of the single dresser were open and the contents dumped on the floor. The carpet had even been torn loose from the floor and peeled back around the edges.
“I was half expecting this,” Johnny said thoughtfully.
“Burglars, you mean? What’ve we got worth stealing?”
“The goose bank. Do you see it around?”
“No, I don’t, but the doggone thing was empty.”
“Search,” said Johnny. “See if it’s around.”
They both got down on their knees and peered under the bed and dresser. They shook out the blankets and sheets, threw them back on the bed. Two minutes’ search convinced them that the limping goose bank was not in the room.
Johnny got to his feet. There was a discreet knock on the door.
“Come!” he called.
The door opened and Eddie Miller came into the room. Eddie was the bell captain of the Forty-Fifth Street Hotel, a sharp little man in his mid-thirties who knew all the answers and had invented many of the questions.
“Termites?” he asked, looking around the littered room.
“Big ones,” replied Johnny.
Eddie nodded. “I know you’re in the middle of a caper Mr. Fletcher, what with the law coming here last night and Mr. Peabody prancing and smirking. And things going on.”
“Such as what, Eddie?”
“You paid your rent last night,” Eddie suggested.
Johnny shook his head. “I had to scramble for it. We’re broke.”
“Well, that’s normal for you. You know I’m on your side, Mr. Fletcher. You’ve always done right by me when you had it. So this is for free. I mean until you get back into the chips. Some people been asking me about you.”