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I said, “Wait a minute. Your good name will be ruined. Mrs. Eldridge will kick you out for that. She’s the kind who puts her offspring out in snowstorms and—”

Marian Dunton came walking over to me. “Now, you look here, Donald Lam,” she said. “I’d do almost anything for you. You’ve been treating me like an unsophisticated little country girl. I suppose I am, but at least I have some human intelligence. You’ve been nice to me, and I like you, and I have confidence in you, but you can’t steal my purse and get away with it.”

“Steal your purse!” I said.

“Yes, steal my purse. I know you’re a detective. I know you’re doing things that you don’t want me to know anything about. I know that you’ve been using me to have the case break the way you want it to break. I figure you’re entitled to that much. You gave me the right steer from the start, but you’ve been lying to me all afternoon, and I don’t like it.”

I raised my eyebrows, and said, “Lying to you?”

“Yes, lying to me,” she said. “I don’t think you even went to the district attorney’s office. I think you just hung around the apartment house.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You told me about how you’d been breaking speed laws,” she said, “but your car was stone cold when you tried to start it. You had to use the choke, and nurse it along. I know you never even went near Mr. Ellis. If you want to know how I know, he called me up not more than five minutes before you came back and asked me if I could meet him at his office at ten-thirty tonight. He said some officers from Santa Carlotta were going to be there, and he wanted me to look at a photograph. He didn’t say a single thing about you being there or about all that hocus-pocus that you dished out.

“That’s okay by me. I have enough confidence in you so that if you don’t want to take me into your confidence, I’ll play the game the way you want. But when you steal my purse, that’s just too much. I had it here in this room when you were here. You walked out, and now it’s gone.”

I dropped into a chair and began to laugh.

There was indignation in her eyes.

“It’s no laughing matter,” she said.

I said, “Listen, Marian. I want you to do one more thing for me.”

“I’ve done a lot for you already,” she said.

“I know you have. This is going to be hard for you to do, but I want you to do it.”

“What?” she asked.

“Believe every word that I’ve told you.”

She said. “You’re a city detective and are supposed to know all the answers, but you must think the country is a backwoods. I’d certainly have to be dumb to believe all you’ve told me.”

“If you believe it,” I said, “and there’s any jam, I’m the one who’s responsible. If you conspire with me, then you’ve stuck your neck out. Don’t you see?”

The indignation faded from her eyes. There was apprehension. “What are you getting into?” she asked.

I met her eyes and said, “I m darned if I know.”

She thought for a while, then said, “Okay. But it makes me look awfully dumb. Under those circumstances, we go to dinner and a movie. What do I do for money?”

I took a wallet from my pocket and handed her some of Bertha Cool’s expense money.

“And how about clothes?” she asked.

I said, “You buy a new wardrobe — such as you have to have for the next day or two. And one more thing, Miss Dunton. When I was talking with Mr. Ellis, he said that he thought it would be a bad plan for you to read the newspapers for the next few days.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Well, be said that there would be things in it about this case, and that he didn’t want you to get a lot of erroneous ideas fixed in your mind from reading the stuff the newspapers would be publishing.”

She looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes and said, “Well, I certainly will do exactly as Mr. Ellis suggested. If he doesn’t want me to read the papers, then I won’t read them.”

“That’s fine. I know he’ll appreciate it.”

“Was there anything else Mr. Ellis asked you to tell me?” she asked.

“If there was, I can’t think of it now. I—”

I was interrupted by an indignant pounding on the door. I walked over and opened it. Mrs. Eldridge was glaring at me from the threshold. She didn’t say a word, but pushed the door open, took a chair, slammed it down so that it held the door open, turned, and pounded down the corridor.

Marian Dunton looked at me and burst out laughing.

Chapter Ten

I dropped in at Bertha Cool’s apartment shortly before midnight. She said, “For God’s sake, where have you been?”

“Out working,” I said. “Where’s Marian? Do you know?”

“No. I called her four or five times, trying to get in touch with you. I thought you were out with her.”

“I went over and saw her,” I said.

Bertha Cool stared at me. “Well, can me for a sardine!”

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“That girl did nothing while you were gone but keep Elsie Brand busy answering the telephone. She’d ring up four or five times a day to ask if we’d heard anything from you, when we expected you back, and if we thought you were all right. I’d have bet my diamonds that the first night you were back she’d make you trot her out to dinner and a movie and hold her hand during the performance.”

I said hotly, “Marian’s a nice girl.”

“Sure, she’s a nice girl,” Bertha Cool said, “but that doesn’t keep her from having her head completely turned as far as you’re concerned.”

“Bunk! She’s fascinated by that deputy district attorney.”

Bertha Cool snorted and said, “Who was telling you?”

“You were.”

“Well, don’t fall for that line of hooey. I was just throwing a scare into you. She’s stuck on you — nuts over you.”

“Well,” I asked, “what’s new? Have you located Flo Mortinson?”

Bertha Cool nodded. “She’s Flo Danzer now,” she said. “She used to be Flo Mortinson. She’s staying at the Mapleleaf Hotel, keeps a room there by the month. She hasn’t been in that room for about a week, but I’m registered in the hotel and all moved in.”

“She have a trunk?” I asked.

“Uh-huh, and I’ve moved in a trunk big enough to cover hers no matter how big it is. I figured that’s what you wanted. Mine’s down in the basement. So’s hers.”

I said, “That’s swell. Let’s go do a little trunk lifting. What name did you register under?”

“Bertha Cool,” she said. “I didn’t see any reason for beating around the bush, and someone might know me anyhow.”

I said, “We’ll have to take a couple of suitcases full of old clothes along with us.”

“Why?”

“To act as padding in case your trunk is much too big. We don’t want hers rattling around inside of it.”

“Why not wait until morning?” Bertha asked. “It’s pretty late to pull a stunt like that.”

“We can get away with it. Send yourself a telegram before we go over. When the telegram is delivered, it’ll give you an excuse to pack your trunk and beat it.”

Bertha Cool took a cigarette from the humidor on the table, carefully fitted it into the ivory holder, and said, “I’m not going any further blind, Donald.”

“The light,” I said, “might hurt your eyes.”

“And if Bertha doesn’t know where the fire is,” she said, “she might get her fingers burned. Bertha wants a showdown, lover.”

I said, “Wait until we get that trunk, and then I’ll know whether I’m right.”

“No. If you’re right, it doesn’t make any difference. If you’re wrong, Bertha wants to know where to find a cyclone cellar. And remember, if you’re wrong, Bertha is going to toss you overboard. You’re taking the responsibility, and it’s your party.”