Conrad put his brief-case on the desk and reached for a cigarette from the box that stood by the telephone.
“I don’t want to see any visitors this morning. Who is it?”
“Flo Presser.”
Conrad looked up sharply, his eyebrows climbing.
“You kidding?”
Van grinned.
“Go ahead and see for yourself. Come to that you’ve only to take a sniff at the keyhole to have the fact confirmed. I reckon she must have had a bath of Last Night’s Kiss or whatever the stuff’s called. She fairly hums with it.”
“Flo Presser? At this hour? What does she want?”
“She’s lost her boy friend. She wants you to find him.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell her I was busy? Get rid of her, Van. I’ve got other things to do than to bother my head about her. Tell her to go to the police.”
“Know who her boy friend is?” Van asked, his face suddenly serious.
“No. Who is he?”
“Toni Paretti.”
Conrad frowned. The name sounded familiar.
“Well, what about him?”
“He happens to be Maurer’s chauffeur and bodyguard,” Van said quietly. “I thought maybe you’d want to talk to her.”
Conrad took a long drag at his cigarette, then blew smoke to the ceiling.
“That’s right; of course he is.” He got to his feet. “Did she give you any details?”
“They had a date the night before last. He called her around five o’clock and told her he had a job to do. He said he would meet her at eleven o’clock at Sam’s Bar on Lennox Street. She waited until two o’clock, and then went home. Yesterday morning she kept calling his apartment, but couldn’t get a reply. She went round there in the afternoon. He wasn’t there. She asked around, but no one had seen him. She went to Sam’s Bar in the evening and waited, but he didn’t show up. This morning she decided something must have happened to him, so she’s come here.”
“What does she expect us to do?”
“She wants us to find him.”
“Didn’t it cross her mind he’s tired of her and has walked out on her?” Conrad asked.
“Didn’t seem to, and it didn’t occur to me either. I can’t imagine a rat like Paretti walking out on Flo. She’s a gold mine. It’s not as if she’s like the usual run of tarts. She makes money, Paul from what I hear: good money, and I can’t imagine Paretti passing up an income as good as she can provide.”
“He could have found another girl,” Conrad returned. “But what foxes me is why should she come here. Why didn’t she go to the police?”
Van concealed a grin.
“That’s exactly what I asked her, and she said you were a gentleman and she trusted you. I won’t tell you what she said about the police.”
Conrad sighed.
“Well, I’m not going to waste much time on her.”
He crossed the room, opened the sound-proof door that led into the anteroom.
A blast of cloying perfume enveloped him as he stepped into the room, and he grimaced.
Flo Presser was pacing up and down, a cigarette between her scarlet lips. She was a good-looking girl, around twenty-five, with a provocative figure, brassy blonde hair and big money-hungry eyes.
She swung around as Conrad came in. Her full skirt swirled out and then moulded itself for a brief moment around her long slender thighs.
“Hello, Flo,” Conrad said. He had met her often enough in the court room. She was regularly arrested for soliciting, and she had got to know most of the officials connected with the court. “What’s on your mind?”
“Gee! Mr. Conrad,” Flo said, coming over to him. “I didn’t think you’d mind me coming like this. I’m worried stiff. I know I shouldn’t be bothering you. I know how busy you are. I thought I’d go nuts last night wondering about Toni, and this morning…”
“Okay, skip the song and dance,” Conrad said impatiently. He sat on the edge of the table. “You shouldn’t have come here, Flo, but now you’re here, let’s keep it brief. What makes you so sure Toni hasn’t walked out on you?”
Flo’s big brown eyes opened wide.
“Walked out on me? Why, Mr. Conrad, he wouldn’t do that. Besides, I know he hasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
She hesitated, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes.
“You’ll keep this to yourself, won’t you, Mr. Conrad? If Toni knew I’d come to you, he would skin me.”
“How do you know he hasn’t walked out on you?” Conrad repeated.
“I’m looking after his bank roll,” she said after a pause. “I shouldn’t be talking about it, but Toni wouldn’t go off leaving me with five grand, not that he ever would leave me.”
Conrad looked at her, a sudden thoughtful expression in his eyes. She was right. He knew a little of Paretti’s record. If Paretti were going to leave Flo, he would make sure he collected his money first.
“Do you imagine anything’s happened to him?”
She nodded.
“Something must have. He might have been run over or something.”
“He was going to meet you the night before last: is that right?”
“Yes. He called me around five and said he couldn’t meet me as arranged. He had a job to do.”
“What was the job?”
She shook her head.
“He didn’t say.”
“He told you he had a job to do and nothing else? What were his exact words?”
“He said, “The boss wants me to do a job. I’ll see you at Sam’s Bar at eleven.” That’s what he said, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“What time were you going to meet him before he put you off?”
“Seven o’clock.”
He studied her.
“Why did you come to me, Flo?”
Her eyes shifted away from his direct stare.
“There wasn’t anyone else I could go to. I wouldn’t get any sense out of the coppers. They don’t like Toni anyway. I asked around and no one could tell me anything, and I got more and more worried and I thought of you. You’ve always been nice to me, Mr. Conrad, and I thought…”
“Okay, skip it,” Conrad said. “Toni works for Maurer, doesn’t he?”
A blank, remote expression came into Flo’s eyes. She half turned away to drop her cigarette into the trash-basket.
“I don’t know who Toni works for. He’s never told me.”
“Don’t give me that stuff. It’s Maurer, isn’t it?”
She swung round to face him, her face hard.
“I tell you I don’t know! Don’t start acting the copper with me, Mr. Conrad. I’ve always looked on you as a friend.”
Conrad shrugged.
“Okay, Flo. I’ll make some inquiries. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do. Where can I reach you?”
Her face brightened.
“I knew you would, Mr. Conrad! I said to myself…”
“Where can I reach you?” Conrad repeated impatiently.
“23c 144th Street. Why don’t you come up one night and see me, Mr. Conrad? I’ll give you a good time: honest I will, and it won’t cost you a thing.”
Conrad laughed.
“That’s no way to talk to a respectably married man, Flo,” he said, edging her to the door. “But thanks for the offer just the same.”
“First time I’ve ever heard a married man was respectable,” she returned. “And I should know.” She paused in the doorway that led directly into the passage. “You’ll let me know as soon as you find out something, won’t you, Mr. Conrad?”
“Sure. I’ll be in touch with you before long.” He edged her into the passage. “Be seeing you,” and he closed the door.
“Pretty nearly gassed, weren’t you?” Van asked as Conrad came back into his office.
“Yeah, pretty strong.” There was a hard, tense light in Conrad’s eyes. “Madge, have we got a file on Paretti?”