“I know,” I told her. “Bertha has little idiosyncrasies and if she thought that I had occupied an apartment in the same house with you, on the same floor— By the way, where is this apartment?”
“Right across the hall from me,” she said.
“No,” I told her, “Bertha must never know.”
And with that understanding we went to dinner.
Chapter 8
Marty Lassen, a broad-shouldered, powerful giant of a man, about twenty-eight or twenty-nine, was up to his elbows in television repair when I dropped into the place.
“I’d like to talk with you about a personal matter,” I said.
He whirled around and sized me up. “What sort of a personal matter?”
“I’m making a security check on a nurse by the name of Melita Doon.”
Lassen stiffened like a ramrod.
“It’s a routine check,” I went on.
“I’d like to find out something about her background, her general characteristics and her reliability.”
“Why come to me?”
“I understand you know her. I’m checking with some of her friends. If I don’t get the right answers from them, I may have to check with her employer.”
“What do you mean by the right answers?”
“Those that indicate she’s a good security risk.”
“Why should she be under investigation for security reasons?”
“There are several different kinds of security,” I said.
“Well, why should she be under investigation for any kind of security?”
“They pay me to ask questions not to answer them.”
“Well, then to hell with you,” he said. “You haven’t even told me your name.”
I smiled at him and said, “That’s another thing, my number is S35.”
“All right, S35,” he said, “you can either walk out under your own power or in about five seconds you can go out with some assistance.”
“I’ll go out under my own power,” I told him. “I’m sorry I bothered you, but I didn’t want to go to her employers unless I had to. Sometimes employers get nervous when a security check is being made and it isn’t to the benefit of the subject.”
“Now, wait a minute, wait a minute,” he said, “you aren’t going to go messing around asking questions of her employers. Right now that would be fatal.”
“Why would it be fatal?”
“Because Melita is having troubles of her own.”
“Then you’d better help me out,” I told him.
“Well, I’m not going to bandy a lot of gossip about the girl.”
I looked righteously indignant. “Who said anything about gossip? I simply want to get the background of her character. Where is she now? Do you know?”
“I don’t know. She’s taking a rest for a few weeks. They— Well, they gave her a lay-off.”
“She’s a nurse?”
“Yes.”
“A trained nurse? Registered?”
“Yes.”
“Thoroughly trustworthy?”
“Absolutely.”
“Wasn’t there some trouble at the hospital where she was employed?”
“You’re damned right there was,” Lassen said. “There’s a supervisor over there who has it in for her, and the kid got blamed for things that she had nothing to do with.”
“Such as what?”
“A couple of times X-ray photographs have been lost, and an examination of the files shows that several additional X-rays are missing. That could happen anywhere, any time. Dozens of people have access to those files, particularly doctors who are notoriously careless.”
“They blamed that on Melita?”
“They blamed it on Melita. They were just looking for an excuse to give her a bad time. Then this patient walked out on her and they want Melita to pay the bill.”
“What do you mean he walked out?”
“It wasn’t a ‘him.’ It was a ‘her.’ They have them once in a while in any hospital. A patient will be on the road to recovery, know that there’s a big bill she’ll have to pay and will pretend that she’s not doing quite so well as she really is. Then in the middle of the night she’ll get up, dress and tiptoe out of the place.”
“Can they do that? I thought the night nurses were on duty at a desk where—”
“Sure they can do it if they know the hospital. There are all kinds of exits. They can take the stairs up to the laboratory or down to the X-ray room. They can go out through the ambulance entrance or they can ring the bell to call the night nurse and run around the L in the corridor and wait out of sight. Then when the nurse enters the room they can dart down the stairs and be on their way.”
“What about this case?”
“This case wouldn’t have been important if it hadn’t been for their hatchet-faced supervisor and the fact they were already giving Melita a bad time over those missing X-rays. This supervisor is picking on Melita and trying to make her quit.
“Actually, I think this supervisor is responsible for the whole thing, the missing X-rays and everything, and is looking for a patsy.
“Anyway, they’re trying to make Melita pay the hospital bill on the walkout. It’s nearly three hundred dollars and that’s more than the kid can scrape up.
“She has a sick mother she’s supporting and— Well, I told her to tell the hospital I’d guarantee the bill, but she says it’s a matter of principle with her and she won’t pay them a cent. She says that if she does they’ll consider it an admission she’s responsible for those missing X rays and this hostile supervisor will really clobber her.”
“They have walkouts from time to time?” I asked.
“Of course they do.”
“What about this one?”
“It was a woman who was a professional goldbricker. She was young, early thirties, and as it turned out she didn’t have any connections anywhere. She’d been divorced from her husband, and her boy friend washed his hands of the whole transaction. She was ready for discharge, then apparently she’d taken a turn for the worse, but that was just an act she put on. About midnight she got up, took her clothes out of the closet and sneaked out. There’s a two-hundred-and-seventy-eight-dollar hospital bill and they want Melita to pay it; they claim it was her fault. It’s thrown her on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It’s really the fault of the Admission Department. This woman was a goldbricker who knew the ropes. She talked the Admission clerk into accepting a no-good check.
“Therefore, you can see what a hell of a mess you’d stir up if you went to the hospital now checking on Melita for security reasons.”
“Do you know where Melita is now?”
“I have a good idea.”
“Where?”
“That,” he said, “is something I’m not going to tell unless have to. I don’t want her to be bothered.”
I thought things over for a while and said, “Well, I guess you probably right at that. Understand, Mr. Lassen, our department tries to get information that’s dependable and reliable, but we don’t go around working hardships.
“Now, I have another name here, and my people weren’t certain you knew him, but they’re checking on him, too. Helmann Bruno, what do you know about him?”
“Bruno? Bruno?”
“That’s right. Helmann Bruno.”
Lassen shook his head, “Never heard of him.”
“Some sort of a manufacturer’s agent, or something. Does a good deal of traveling.”
Lassen again shook his head.
I asked him about four or five other names that I’d picked at random from the telephone directory. Lassen didn’t know any of them.