He crossed over to the other side of the desk and sat down. His eyes bored steadily into mine.
“You should have been frank with us.”
“Bosh! I might have known you’d try something like this.”
I said, “Now listen to what I have to say. You wanted us to find Mrs. Lintig. We found her. We found her very unexpectedly. We wanted to get in touch with you. You wrote in terminating our employment. You have the right to do that if you want to, but there are some things I thought you should know. As a client, you’re entitled to a report.”
“I fired you,” he said with some feeling, “because of your meddling into my affairs.”
“You mean tracing you through the state medical bureau?”
“Yes.”
I said, “All right, that’s done. We’ve found you. You’re here, and I’m here. Now, let’s talk turkey.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted you to do, but understand this, young man, I’m not going to be held up. I—”
“Forget it. Here’s the dope. Two other people have been up to Oakview trying to get a line on your wife. One of them was a man named Miller Cross. I can’t find out anything about him. The other one, about three weeks ago, was a girl named Evaline Harris, who went under the name of Evaline Dell when she was in Oakview. She’s a cabaret entertainer at the Blue Cave in the city. I haven’t checked up on the place, but I understand it employs B girls who come out on the stage, show plenty of figure, sing a song or two, just enough to give them an ostensible occupation, and for the rest, make a commission on drinks and pick up what they can on the side.
“I contacted this Evaline Harris. I have her address here in case you’re interested. I put it up to her that I was an adjuster from the railroad company. Her trunk was damaged in transit to Oakview. She fell for it. I told her we had to know her business and why she was going under an assumed name. She said she was making an investigation trying to find out about a woman and that she was making that investigation on behalf of the woman’s husband. Now then, why didn’t you play fair with us?”
There was surprise on his face. “The woman’s husband?” he repeated.
I nodded.
“Then she’s married,” he said.
“To you.”
“No, no, there must be someone else.”
“There wasn’t. Mrs. Lintig showed up in Oakview, hired an attorney, and secured a dismissal of the divorce action on the grounds of lack of prosecution. I talked with her—”
“You talked with her?” he interrupted.
I nodded.
“What does she look like?” he asked. “How is she?”
“She shows her age,” I said. “I’m assuming she was approximately your age.”
“Three years older.”
“All right. She looks it, every bit of it. She’s put on some weight. Her hair is silver-grey. She’s a fairly competent-looking customer.”
He clamped his lips together. “Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. She left Oakview.”
His eyes became hard. “Why didn’t you follow her?”
I sprang my alibi on him. “Because Bertha Cool had telephoned me and said that we were fired.”
“Good heavens, that’s the one thing I wanted. I want to know where she is. I want to know about her. I want to know what she’s doing, what she’s been doing, whether she’s married. I want to find out all about her. And you let her slip through your fingers!”
“Because we were fired,” I pointed out, patiently. “I thought you acted hastily under the circumstances. I decided to run down to Santa Carlotta and tell you the facts.”
He pushed back his chair and paced the office nervously. Abruptly he turned and said, “I simply have to find her.”
“Our agency is the best means you have of doing that.”
“Yes, yes. I want you to find her. Go ahead and get busy. Don’t waste any time. Don’t waste a moment.”
I said, “All right. Doctor. The next time we get on a hot trail, don’t call us off. After all, you have only yourself to thank for this. If you’d trusted us and been frank with us, we could have closed the case within forty-eight hours without any further expense. As it is, we’ve got to begin all over again.”
“Look here,” he said. “Can I trust you?”
“I don’t know why not.”
“You won’t try to take advantage of me?”
I shrugged my shoulders and said, “The fact that I’m here, and not asking for a shakedown, is your best evidence of that.”
“Yes,” he said, “it is. I’m sorry. I apologize. I apologize to you. Explain the circumstances to Mrs. Cool, will you?”
“Yes, and you want us to go right back to work?”
“Right back to work,” he said. “Wait a minute. I want the address of that young woman who claimed I’d employed her. It’s preposterous. I never heard of such a thing.”
I gave him Evaline Harris’s address.
“Get started right away,” he said.
I said, “All right. Shall we make reports here, Doctor?”
“No, no. Make those reports just as I instructed Mrs. Cool. Make them to Mr. Smith at the address I gave her. Don’t under any circumstances let anyone know where I am or who I am. It would be — disastrous.”
“I think I understand.”
“Get out of town at once. Don’t form any acquaintances here. Don’t be seen around my office.”
I said, “All right. We’ll protect you at our end of the line, but be careful with those reports we’re sending.”
“That’s all arranged for,” he said.
“And you don’t know anything about this Evaline Harris?”
“Good heavens, no!”
“Well,” I told him, “it’s going to be a job. We’re working on a cold trail again.”
I understand. It’s my fault, but that’s something I’ve worried about for years, that someone might try to trace me through my professional registration. You were clever — damned clever — too damned clever.”
“One other thing,” I said. “Who would be interested in giving me a black eve because of the work I’m doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“A man about six feet,” I said, “something over two hundred pounds, beefy, but not fat, dark hair, deep-set, grey eyes, a man in the late thirties or early forties, a mole on his cheek, and a fist like a pile driver.”
Dr. Alftmont shook his head and said, “I know no one of that description.” But he avoided my eyes as he said it.
“He waited for me in my room in the hotel,” I said. “He knew all about me. He’d appropriated the agency car, driven it around to the back of the hotel.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted me to leave town.”
“What did you do?”
“Made the mistake of trying to yell for the cops.”
“What happened?”
“When I regained consciousness, I’d been bundled out of town.”
The corners of his lips quivered. His chin moved twice before he said anything. “There m-m-must have been some mistake,” he said.
“There was,” I said dryly. “I made it.”
“You mustn’t let anyone know about what you’re doing or whom you’re working for,” he cautioned. “That’s imperative.”
“Okay,” I said. “I just wanted to know.”
His eyes were fighting fear as I went out. The office nurse looked at me curiously. My money said ten to one she wasn’t Vivian Carter and had never been named as a co-respondent in any divorce action.
My breakfast was long overdue. Santa Carlotta was a city on the through coast highway. It catered to the wealthy tourist trade. There were three swank hotels, half a dozen commercial hotels, and flocks of tourist camps. The restaurants were good. I picked one at random.
I saw a placard in the window. Dr. Alftmont’s features, looking ten years younger, stared out at the street from that placard. I stood at the window and read the printing on the placard: