“That’s right.”
“The hell you did! How did you do that?”
“It’s a long story,” I said. “Of course, she doesn’t have any idea I was investigating for an insurance company.”
“And you think you’re on the track of something?”
“I think I’m on the track of something.”
“Well,” he said, slowly, “I’ll cancel the plane reservation and hold off for one more day, but we’re playing with dynamite on these whiplash injuries, Lam, you understand that?”
“I understand all of that,” I told him, “but I think you’re dealing with a professional.”
“That’s just a hunch on your part?”
“It’s a hunch on my part,” I said, “predicated on a little evidence. The guy has a pretty good apartment. His wife is well dressed. They aren’t fly-by-nights. They’re willing to make an investment in self-improvement, and they don’t intend to pay their bills.”
“What sort of bills?”
“A set of encyclopedias. They intend to get the books and then move to another address and take another name.”
“How do you know that?”
“From the way she signed the contract without reading it.”
“You sold her a set of encyclopedias?”
“That’s right.”
Breckinridge was silent for a moment, then he said, “Lam, you’re the damnedest fellow I ever got teamed up with.”
“Am I supposed to argue that?” I asked.
He laughed and said, “No.”
“All right,” I told him, “call off your settlement for a while, I think I can come up with something.”
I hung up.
As soon as I had cleared the line, I called Elsie Brand at the office. “Donald,” she said, “where are you?”
“This call’s going through the switchboard,” I said. “Make sure no one’s listening in. Step to the door and pretend you’re getting some papers out of a filing case. Make sure we have a clear line and then come back.”
She was back on the line in about forty seconds. “It’s all clear,” she said.
“Look,” I told her, “I’m coming back to town. I don’t want Bertha to know it. I don’t want anyone to know it just now. I want to be under cover. How about you telling the manager of your apartment house that you have a cousin from New Orleans who is going to be visiting in town for a few days and would it be possible for him to have an apartment?”
“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “Perhaps we could fix it.”
“I know you did that with the girl friend who visited you from San Francisco a couple of weeks ago,” I told her.
“That was a girl,” she said.
“Be indifferent about me,” I said. “Tell the manager you don’t want an apartment on the same floor necessarily, just anyplace in the building.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do, Donald. What’s the trouble?”
“No trouble,” I said, “just good old routine, but I don’t want anyone to know I’m in town.
“Now, here’s something I want you to do. I told Bertha about a Melita Doon. I wanted Bertha to find out all about her. By the time I get there, have everything Bertha’s found out all ready for me to use.”
“When will you arrive?” she asked.
“On American Airlines at five-thirty this evening. Meet me if you can make it.”
“Do you know anything about this girl? Where she lives? What she does?”
“Bertha will know all about her by that time. Be sure you get the dope from Bertha’s file. It’s best if you copy it down.”
“Well... I’ll see what I can do. But I don’t like to lie, Donald. You know that.”
“I know,” I told her, “that’s because you don’t get enough practice. I’m giving you a chance to practice now so you can have a fully rounded personality.”
“Oh, Donald, aren’t you ever serious?”
“Never more serious in my life,” I told her, and hung up.
Chapter 6
Elsie Brand was waiting for me at the airport.
“Donald,” she said, her manner indicating her mental “What’s gone wrong?”
“What makes you think anything’s gone wrong?”
“You’re supposed to be at that guest ranch and Bertha can’t understand you leaving there, or all your running around.”
“What about Melita Doon?” I asked. “Have we got a line on her?”
“I think so. It’s such an unusual name — there could hardly be two people with that name.”
“Who is she? What does she do?”
“She’s a nurse at the Civic Community Hospital. They were a little closemouthed about her when I tried to find out. We gave the old line about wanting to check on her credit, particularly with relation to her personal habits and all that.”
“What did we find out?”
“She had some sort of a nervous breakdown about a week ago and is out somewhere recuperating. They gave her a month’s leave of absence. She misfiled some X-rays. She’s all broken up about it. Got so she couldn’t do her work.”
“That checks,” I said. “But we’d better just check for physical description.”
“She’s twenty-eight years old, blonde, five feet two and a half, weighs a hundred and eight pounds.”
“Okay,” I said, “that’s the one. Who’s her boy friend?”
“A man by the name of Marty Lassen. He runs a television repair shop. He’s a big, athletic type and he’s supposed to be both jealous and short-tempered.”
“I always pick guys like that,” I said.
“Donald! You aren’t going to try to see him, are you?”
“Tomorrow morning, bright and early.”
“Oh, Donald! I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I’ve got to. Where does she live, and does she live alone or does she share an apartment?”
“No. She shares an apartment. She’s in 283 at the Bulwin Apartments, and her roommate is another nurse named Josephine Edgar.”
“Know anything about Josephine?” I asked.
“Only that she’s a nurse, and evidently a close friend of Melita Doon. They’ve been living together for a couple of years now. Melita has a sick mother whom she’s supporting in a nursing home.”
“That checks,” I said.
“What about Mr. Breckinridge?” she asked.
“Well,” I said, “I’m going to call him right now.”
“You have a night number for Breckinridge?” she asked.
“Yes. He said I could reach him there at any time.”
I called the number, and Breckinridge’s well-modulated, suave voice came over the wire, “Ah, yes, hello, this is Homer Breckinridge speaking.”
“Donald Lam,” I told him.
“Ah, yes. Where are you?”
“I’m here at the airport.”
“You just got in?”
“Yes.”
“Lam, I have a hunch about this case, and when I have a hunch about a case it is predicated upon years of long experience and a subconscious appraisal of the situation.”
“I dare say it is.”
“I have to talk with you.”
“Give me your address and we’ll drive out,” I said.
“Who’s the ‘we’?”
“Elsie Brand, my secretary.”
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you at the office. Your partner didn’t know where to reach you.”
“That’s right.”
“I felt that I should be able to get in touch with you by calling your partner,” Breckinridge said reproachfully.
“Ordinarily you could,” I said. “This is something that it may be better if no one knows about. I’ll come out and see you if you want.”
“Please do that. I’m at my home.”
I hung up, and turned to Elsie, “Do you have the agency heap?” I asked.
“No,” she said, “Bertha would have wanted mileage and all that stuff so I just took my own car. I felt it would be easier doing it that’ way.”