Nick asks, “Where does that fit in? Do you think Pedro was using the place himself — spying on the people downstairs? He’s killed first and, half a day later, Robert Landis, who visits downstairs, is killed, and the next day, the brother or husband or something of the gal he visits is killed. How are you going to blame all that on Pedro?”
Abrams, wearily. “Mr. Charles, how many times have I told you there was something funny here I don’t understand; and some hanky-panky about the checks I don’t understand? Did I ever pretend I knew what all this led to?”
Nick. “Oh, yes — about the checks. We’ve got to ask these people about them when they come upstairs and maybe they won’t want to say right out. What would be wrong with getting Mrs. Landis over so we’d have her here to chuck at them if they think we’re fooling?”
Abrams. “I don’t know, the DA’s kind of—”
Nick. “What — with a police escort?”
Abrams. “Okay — I’ll send for her.”
Nick. “God will reward you.”
Three policemen, one in uniform, bring in Polly, Dancer, and Lum Kee.
Abrams. “Francis, phone the Hall and tell them to bring up Mrs. Landis.”
Francis goes to the phone.
Nick, aside to Abrams. “Maybe they don’t know. Throw it hard enough to bounce.”
Abrams says to Nick, “Okay.” Turns to Polly: “Your husband was killed this afternoon. What do you know about it?”
Polly. “I — what?”
Abrams, to Dancer. “Her husband was killed this afternoon.”
Dancer. “Her what?”
Abrams. “Cut it out! We’re not playing charades.”
They look at him blankly.
Abrams, counting out syllables on his fingers, says, “Pol-ly had a hus-band named Phil e-ven if he was sup-posed to be her bro-ther and he was found dead on Turk Street this af-ter-noon.”
Polly and Dancer turn to face each other at the same moment, exclaiming simultaneously, “You—!!!” and then breaking off as they realize each is saying the same thing.
Abrams. “You — you — you what?”
Neither of them says anything.
Nick says to Abrams, “Simple enough — she started to accuse him of killing Phil because he found out he was her husband and he started to accuse her of double-crossing him by not telling him Phil was her husband.”
Abrams says to Polly, “He was your husband, wasn’t he? Married three years ago in Topeka?”
She nods, glancing sidewise at Dancer. “But I didn’t want to have any more to do with him and so when he showed up last week I didn’t say anything about it.”
Abrams. “What did he go to the pen for?”
Polly. “Blackmail.”
Abrams. “And what did he have on you that he was hanging around shaking you down for?”
Polly, hesitantly. “Well, he knew about me and Robert and I didn’t want Robert to find out I was married, and then I was kind of sorry for Phil. He was broke and had come out of the pen with bad lungs.”
Abrams. “And why did you keep it from Dancer?”
Polly. “It was nobody else’s business, and a girl in this racket gets along better without people knowing about things like that.”
Abrams. “You didn’t know Dancer found out about it, did you?”
Polly. “Not until—” And breaks off with a frightened look at Dancer.
Abrams. “Go ahead — not until what?”
Dancer. “I never found out about it up to now.” Then, to Polly. “I wish I had, Baby.”
Abrams says to Dancer, “Stick your mouth out of this until you get your invitation. You’ll get it.” Then to Polly. “And now you think he killed Phil because he found out?”
Polly stammers, “No— I don’t— I—”
Abrams breaks in very sharply. “Isn’t it the truth, sister, that you and this husband of yours were working together on Robert Landis and something went wrong and you had to kill him?”
Polly shakes her head and says, “No.”
Abrams, paying no attention to her answer. “And then isn’t it just as true that Dancer found out about it and killed Phil?”
Dancer interrupts again. “Listen, I never found out about it till I come to this room.”
Abrams. “Whenever you found out about it, what do you think now — don’t you think they were double-crossing you?”
Dancer shrugs and says, “Maybe I do now, but I didn’t know anything about it till you told me.”
Abrams asks him, “Do you think Phil tried to stick Landis up and had to kill him?”
Dancer replies contemptuously, “I don’t know what a punk like that would do.”
Abrams’ manner has become increasingly irritable through this scene so that when, as he starts to ask Dancer, “Now do you—” and Nick interrupts him by saying, “Let’s go into the check business,” Abrams turns around and says, sharply for him, “Who’s doing this?”
Nick says very mildly, “It’s hardly ever been my party. Come on, Nora.”
Abrams says very earnestly, “Aw, listen, Mr. Charles, I’m not getting any rest out of this at all and I’m kind of jumpy. What were you going to say?”
Nick. “I thought I said it — about those forgeries?”
Dancer says to Nick, “I’ve put up with your gum-heeling for a day or two, but I got a business to run. I better be down there running it than barbering here with you. Why don’t the two of us just go out in the hall and see who smacks who in the nose and call it square?”
Nick. “No, let’s do it the hard way. The ten-grand check Landis is supposed to have given Polly is a forgery.”
Dancer. “So what’s it to me?”
Nick. “The signature was traced from one of the other checks he gave her.”
Dancer. “I’m still asking you — what’s that to me?”
Nick. “Maybe Polly can answer that.” He asks her, “Did you do the tracing or did he?”
While Polly is hesitating, Dancer says very distinctly, “I told you before, I don’t know anything about that check. Whatever was between Landis and Polly was between them.”
Nick says to Polly, “You were right — they are letting you hold the bag.”
Before Polly can answer, Dancer, addressing Nick, but talking for Polly’s benefit, asks, “What bag? This check you’re talking about — has anybody tried to pass it yet? What kind of charge have you got against her until she does?”
Nick and Abrams look at each other and Abrams says, “Wise guy.” Then to Polly. “Come on, answer that question now.”
Polly says hesitantly, “Well, I don’t know— I—” She breaks off, looking all the time at Dancer, hoping for a cue.
Dancer says nothing and gives Polly no sign.
Polly. “Honestly, Lieutenant Abrams, I don’t think that check is a forgery.”
Abrams asks, “Where did you get it?”
Polly. “Well, I—” She breaks off again.
Abrams. “What are you covering this lug up for, sister?” He takes the note David had given him out of his pocket and shows it to her, saying “See, he had already found out Phil was your husband.”
Polly reads the note and her eyes widen. She looks at Dancer.
Dancer. “If you’re helping to frame me, Polly, okay; I’ll have to figure out what I do about that, but if you haven’t made a dicker for yourself with the police, I don’t see where you’ll be getting anywhere just running off at the head for the fun of it.”
Abrams starts toward Dancer, saying angrily, “Listen, you—”
The door opens and Caspar comes in. He bows very formally to everybody in the room, then says to Dancer, “I just heard a moment ago.” Then, very pompously, to Abrams. “Lieutenant,I cannot permit you to—”
Abrams turns to Nick and groans, “Now, look — we got this five-and-ten-cent-store Darrow with us again.”