“Not unless she made a nuisance of herself. He is a man who could do anything... anything rotten.”
Terrell absorbed this. He was still thinking about it when the car arrived at the morgue.
Minutes later, they were standing behind the sheet-covered body. Beigler hovered in the background.
Carefully, Terrell turned down the sheet to reveal Sue Parnell’s dead face. He looked questioningly at Joan who had lost colour.
“That’s my sister,” she said, her voice suddenly harsh. Before Terrell could prevent her, she caught hold of the sheet and flicked it off the naked and mutilated body. She stood as if turned to stone as Beigler hurried forward to help Terrell recover the body.
“So that’s it!” she exclaimed. “I had an idea you were keeping something from me!” She turned to Terrell, her eyes blazing with fury that startled him. “You listen to me! You find this killer! If you don’t, then I will! No man is going to get away with doing that to my sister! All right, she wasn’t much, but you don’t do that to any woman and get away with it no matter how low she is!” She turned and ran with unsteady steps out of the morgue.
“Go after her and take her home,” Terrell said. “We’ll talk to her again later.”
Beigler hurried after Joan. He was in time to see her get into a passing taxi. As the cab moved away, he caught a glimpse of her white gaunt face and her glittering eyes.
He went thankfully back to Terrell who was locking the door of the morgue.
“She’s gone... took a taxi,” Beigler said.
“Let’s see if Hess has anything to report, then we’ll talk to Hardy.”
The two men walked over to where the police car was parked.
Val and her father drove back to the Spanish Bay hotel. She was tense and unhappy. She felt her father’s sympathy had switched away from her while she had been with Chris and she braced herself, knowing what was coming.
It wasn’t until they were back in the hotel suite that Travers said in a quietly modulated voice, “Val... I think you should pack right away and come back with me. I have to catch the five o’clock plane. Will you hurry? We can talk on the plane.”
“I’m staying here, Daddy. What should I do in New York with Chris out here?”
Her father restrained an impatient gesture.
“I’ve talked to Gustave,” he said. “He says there is a chance of Chris eventually recovering, and I want you to grasp this as it is very important — in the meantime this odd blackout Chris has had makes it necessary for him to be under restraint. As he is willing to be a voluntary patient, he need not be certified, but if he shows signs of wanting to leave the sanatorium, he would have to be.”
“That’s all the more reason why I should stay here and see him every day,” Val said steadily.
“I don’t think Gustave wants you to see him every day, Val.”
“He can’t stop me.”
Travers stared down at his well-shaped hands, frowning.
“Well, Vat, I suppose I’ll have to tell you. Chris could become violent.”
Val got to her feet and walked to the window. She stood with her back to her father. There was a long painful silence, then Travers said, “Come on, darling, get packed. Time’s running out.”
She turned. The determination in her eyes dismayed him.
“Did Dr. Gustave tell you that?”
“About him becoming violent? Oh, yes. If you insist on seeing Chris, you won’t be able to see him alone.”
“I don’t understand. I’ve always seen him alone. Is this something new then?”
“I’m afraid so. This blackout is a warning signal. With the kind of brain injuries he has, it seems that if he has another blackout he could easily turn on anyone who is intimate with him. It’s one of these odd quirks that I don’t actually understand. Gustave said there would just possibly be homicidal tendencies. You couldn’t stay with him or visit him without a nurse in attendance. You don’t want to visit him under those conditions, do you?”
“I am going to visit him under any circumstances,” Val said. “I am staying here.”
“Poor Val. You do love him, don’t you?”
“Yes, I love him. If I were in his place, I’d hope so much that he wouldn’t desert me. Let’s not talk about it. I am staying, Daddy.”
Travers got to his feet.
“Then I’ll get off. I can catch an earlier plane. Keep in touch with me. I don’t know what you’ll do down here on your own. I don’t know if you’d like one of your friends to come down and join you, but I suppose you’ll manage as you always seem to manage.”
“I’ll be all right. I’d much sooner be on my own.”
“You are never alone, Val. You have me.” He looked hopefully at her. “You have, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I have you,” she said.
From the expression on her face, and from the tone of her voice, he realised bitterly that the hope he had had of replacing Chris, of getting her to return to his big, lonely house, of taking up their lives together once more was just bitter dust.
Lee Hardy was no stranger to the police. They knew him to be an unscrupulous gambler who ran a minor Wire Service, who managed to make a deal of money and who was shrewd enough to operate just within the Law.
Terrell and Beigler called at his two-room office on N.W. 17th Avenue. The pert blonde who handled the battery of telephones and ran the office when Hardy was on the race track told them that Hardy had just that moment left for home.
The two police officers went out into the hot street, climbed into the police car and drove fast to Bay Shore Drive where Hardy had a four-room penthouse overlooking the Biscayne Bay.
Hardy came to the door himself. He was a tall, powerfully built hunk of beef, dark, tanned, with staring blue eyes, a dimple in his chin and would obviously be devastating to most women.
He met the hard, cold stare of the policemen with an expansive, flashing smile. He had on a red and gold patterned dressing gown over his tanned, hairy nakedness. His feet were thrust into heelless slippers of soft red leather.
“Chief! Well, what a surprise! Come on in. You’ve never visited my humble sty before, have you? Come on in... and you too, Sergeant.”
The two men walked into a vast lounge, expensively furnished with a terrace overlooking the bay. Down one side of the room, protected by a glass screen, orchids of every colour and description grew in long, colourful ropes. The décor of the room was of white and lemon yellow. Reclining on a vast settee of yellow and white stripes was a beautifully built girl whose jet-black hair reached to her golden tanned shoulders. She had on a white wrap, pulled off her shoulders and that fell away from her legs, revealing naked, tanned thighs.
Staring at her, Beigler guessed she would be around twenty-three or four. She had one of those faces that made you think of a Pekinese dog... attractive, but very complex.
“This is Gina Lang.” Hardy said. “She takes care of my blood pressure.” He gave his flashing smile. To the girl, he said, “Stay right where you are, Pekie. These gentlemen are from police headquarters. Chief Terrell and Sergeant Beigler.”
The girl eyed the two police officers, and then squirmed a little further down on the settee. She reached out a small, well-shaped hand for a glass full of lime juice and gin. She then looked pointedly away.
“Well, gentlemen,” Hardy said. “What will you drink?”
“You know a woman named Sue Parnell?” Terrell asked in his cop voice.
For a brief second, Hardy’s smile slipped, but it was back immediately although both Terrell and Beigler had seen the question had come as a shock.
“Sue Parnell? Well, now... should I know her?”
Gina turned her head to stare at Hardy. Her black eyes were uncomfortably searching.