Maybe a few words with the band leader would clear that up.
The Starlight Roof. That’s where Hal Kelsey and his Gang were featured attractions at the moment. Pedley gave a final glance up and down the avenue for Kim Wasson, decided it was no use waiting, walked across the street, and went into the hotel.
When the elevator let him off on the top floor, he pushed through the knot of people herded against the red plush cord, beckoned to the maître.
The headwaiter observed him without enthusiasm. “Your party at a table, sir?”
Pedley said: “The skinny lad leading the orchestra. That Kelsey?”
“No, sir. Mister Kelsey doesn’t come on again until the floor show is over.”
The marshal surveyed the big room. The tables were nearly all taken. Mostly couples or parties of four; evening gowns and dinner jackets with here and there a man in business clothes.
On the dance floor a line of straw-skirted bare-midriffed cuties were doing a sultry hula. Behind them, musicians in tropical linen were playing softly enough to let the steel guitars take a solo.
“Where’ll I find this Kelsey?”
“I couldn’t say, sir. He might be in his dressing-room.”
Pedley unhooked the plush cord, let himself in, before the maître could prevent him.
“I’m sorry, sir. Unless you have a reservation—” The marshal held out his hand with the gold badge cupped in his palm.
“Oh!” Supercilious eyebrows lifted in concern. “I hope there’ll be no trouble—?”
“None at all.” Pedley strode over to the wall aisle, headed for the red light-bulb over the EXIT sign beside the orchestra platform.
A hand touched him lightly on the shoulder. He turned. It was Shaner. He had been sitting at one of the wall tables, in the shadow; had stepped out into the aisle after the marshal had passed him.
“Looking for somebody, skipper?” the deputy inquired lazily.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“That publicity flack is here.”
“Ross? Where?”
“Out back. With Kelsey.”
“Get to it.”
“I tail Ross over here. He gets a table and right away the band leader comes over and sits down with him. They don’t order any eats but they do a little serious drinking. Also, they get into an argument.”
“What about?”
“I don’t know. The nearest table I could rent wasn’t in good listening range. Anyhoo, this argument gets steamed up considerable and they must notice they are attracting attention. Because they take their fight to more private quarters.”
“You didn’t hear anything they were saying?”
“I only catch a tidbit, here and there, as I am passing to and fro to the little boys’ room.”
“Pitch.”
“Ross states he’s going to be kingpin of the radio show now Lownes has taken his final bow. Kelsey insists he’s in the driver’s seat and means to hold a very tight rein on Ross.”
“Why’d they break up the discussion?”
“This I can’t tell you. I catch a snatch about some lawyer—”
“Amery?”
“Could be. Kelsey bounces up all of a sudden and allows as how he’ll see this lawyer himself and would Ross kindly go to hell in a handbasket. Then he stamps off in low or medium dudgeon — and the publicity professor sprints right after him.”
“And you don’t go after them! I’ve got a good mind to send you back to straightening hose kinks. Didn’t it occur to you it might be important to know what goes on, out there?”
Shaner shrugged. “I called Barney, asked him to locate you, tell you the status. I was sort of waiting for a callback with instructions.”
“You’ve got ’em now. Come on.”
Pedley led the way out back of the orchestra platform, into the dressing-room hall. They located Ross and the band leader by the simple expedient of listening. The quarrelers were in a locker-room marked: INSTRUMENT STORAGE ONLY, NO SMOKING. The door was shut, but it was thin.
Ross was bellowing. “Why don’t you use some sense for once in your life, Hal? Don’t rock the boat. I’ll see you get what’s coming to you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Kelsey’s voice was softly venomous. “I’ve got your cute little canary over a barrel. I’m going to keep her there until I get what I want.”
“What’s your price?”
“I stay with the show. I run the show. I’ll use Leila long’s she makes the grade. I’ll decide when she doesn’t.”
“She won’t agree to it. Amery wouldn’t let her.”
“She will. And he will. When he knows I’ve got that Florentine case. Mister District Attorney wouldn’t ask for a better motive for murder than what’s in that leather beauty.”
“Before I’d let you put the bee on her like that, I’ll—”
“What’ll you do!” Pedley could scarcely hear the band leader, he spoke so gently.
“I’ll sick Staro on you!”
For the space of a breath there was silence from the other side of the door. Shaner hunched his shoulders, held out his hands, palms upward. Pedley got a hand on the knob.
A chair scraped on the floor, inside the storage-room. Ross cried, “Put it down, Hal. Put it down or—” Pedley swung the door wide. Several things happened so fast they seemed to be simultaneous.
The tall, taper-shouldered band leader swung a chair from above his head. Ross pulled the trigger of the nickel-barreled hammerless he held pointed at Kelsey’s lower vest button. Pedley kicked at Ross’s wrist.
Ross dodged; the gun spat at the floor. Pedley’s boot caught the publicity man in the groin. He caromed back against the wall. The chair crashed down, knocked him sprawling. Shaner stepped in swiftly, hooked a left to Kelsey’s face, rocked the band leader back into a corner.
Pedley toed the broken chair out of the way, bent down, took the gun away from Ross.
“Didn’t know it was loaded, I bet!”
“You, again!” Ross got to his knees, put his hand below his belt buckle, grimaced. “What’s it to you if Hal and I have a little disagreement?!”
“I’ve known these private Donnybrooks to get hot enough to burn people.” The marshal broke the pistol. “Where’s your permit for this?”
“At the Olympiad.” Ross staggered to his feet. “You won’t take it away, either. I was using it in self-defense.”
“You were going to gut-shoot your chum here in a spirit of good clean fun. If I hadn’t given you the boot, you’d be facing a felonious rap right now.” Pedley closed the hammerless, stuck it in his pocket. “I’ll have Ballistics check this and send it back to you. You better trot along, now.”
“There’s some unfinished business to be attended to,” Ross said stiffly.
“Isn’t that a fact! But your part of it’ll hold. On your way, now.”
Ross went out, walking with his feet placed well apart. Shaner cleared his throat. “All right if I leave this chair-heaver to you, coach?”
“Wait a sec, Shaner.” Pedley stepped to the door with his deputy. “Never mind the butter-ball. I’ll have to give him a going-over, myself. I’ve a better chore for you.”
“Be reasonable, skipper! I’d figured on having a brief interim on my own after I tucked the Rossboy in the hay.”
“Tend to your homework some other night. It’s a cinch job you’re getting, anyway.”
“Such as—?”
“Relievin’ Maginn. Riding herd on Leila Lownes.”
“Now that—” Shaner smiled clear back to his ears — “is another color of a horse. Give me my boots and sad-dle!”
“Watch her close. I want her where I can put my hands on her if I need to.”
“Who wouldn’t?” The deputy went away. Pedley shut the door.
There was sheer malignancy in the way Hal Kelsey squinted up when the marshal propped a chair under the doorknob in lieu of a key.