1945 - Blonde's Requiem (22 page)

“
Sure it
’
s okay,
”
I said.
“
Take it down now.
”

He suddenly looked up from putting the folded sheets into an envelope.

“
Where
’
s Marian?
”
he said.
“
Look at the time; it
’
s after eight o
’
clock.
”

We looked at each other and we both saw we were thinking the same thing.

“
She
’
ll be along,
”
I said uneasily.
“
Maybe she went home to change. You know what girls are.
”

“
Maybe she has,
”
he said, but neither of us felt any happier about it.

I looked at the telephone.
“
Know her number?
”

Reg went over and dialled. We waited while the bell rang. Then he hung up.

“
No one there,
”
he said.

“
Maybe she
’
s on her way over,
”
I said, crossing to the window and looking down the street.
“
That the apartment house on the corner, isn
’
t it?
”

Reg joined me.
“
Yeah,
”
he said.
“
But I don
’
t see her.
”
He was looking scared.
“
You don
’
t think—?
”

“
No, I don
’
t,
”
I said shortly.
“
Now look, Reg, get that copy over to the printers. I
’
ll go over to the apartment house and find out if she
’
s been in. Come back here as soon as you can. I
’
ll be waiting for you.
”

He hesitated and then picked up the envelope.
“
I
’
ll try not to be long,
”
he said.
“
I
’
d better see this through, though, and it
’
ll take an hour.
”

“
I
’
ll ring you then,
”
I said.
“
Put your number on a piece of paper, and as soon as I find her I
’
ll call you.
”

I could see he hated going, but after writing the number down, he went.

The telephone began to ring as I was turning to the door. I went back and picked up the receiver.

It was Ted Esslinger.
“
Is Miss French there?
”
he asked.

“
No,
”
I said.
“
I
’
m waiting for her now. Why are you calling?
”

“
Is that Mr. Spewack?
”
He sounded surprised.
“
I heard you
’
d left town.
”

“
Don
’
t believe all you hear,
”
I said shortly.
“
Why are you wanting Marian?
”

“
She had a date with me at eight-fifteen,
”
he said.
“
I was wondering if she were held up or something.
”

I began to feel uneasy.
“
Sorry, bud,
”
I snapped.
“
I haven
’
t seen her,
”
and I hung up.

It took me under four minutes to reach Marian
’
s apartment house. I rang the bell and a small, bird-like woman opened the door. She looked at me inquiringly.

“
Miss French?
”
I said.

Her face brightened.
“
She
’
s not in,
”
she told me,
“
but she shouldn
’
t be long. Will you wait?
”

I introduced myself.
“
Maybe she
’
s mentioned me,
”
I said, seeing Marian was popular with the woman.

“
I
’
m Mrs. Sinclair,
”
the woman said, smiling at me.
“
Of course she
’
s mentioned you. Please come in.
”

I followed her into a large, comfortably furnished room.
“
What a charming girl she is!
”
Mrs. Sinclair went on.
“
Such a nice, unspoilt, clever person, and so enthusiastic about her new work. Fancy Mr. Wolf taking over the Gazette. Do you think he
’
ll alter the paper in any way? I
’
ve grown so used to having it now, and sometimes changes…
”

“
Excuse me, Mrs. Sinclair,
”
I broke in,
“
I
’
m a little worried about Miss French. You see, we
’
d arranged to meet at seven o
’
clock and she hasn
’
t turned up. She didn
’
t leave a message, did she?
”

Mrs. Sinclair looked at me sharply.
“
Why, no,
”
she said.
“
She came in about five o
’
clock. I heard her telephone ring a few minutes later and then she went out again. She didn
’
t say where she was going.
”

“
Do you mind if I go up to her room?
”
I asked.
“
I wouldn
’
t ask this, only it
’
s important.
”

“
I don
’
t think,
”
she began, looking bewildered and puzzled.

“
Already four girls are missing in this town,
”
I said, surprised to hear how harsh my voice sounded.
“
I don
’
t want her to be the fifth.
”

She went white.
“
You don
’
t mean that,
”
she said, putting her hand on my arm.
“
You don
’
t really…
”

“
Take me to her room,
”
I said.
“
I don
’
t know what
’
s happened to her, but I
’
m going to find out.
”

We went up the stairs. On the second floor, she took me along a passage and unlocked a door at the far end. I went into a large bright room with flowers on the table and gay-coloured rugs and curtains.

I stood looking around the room. Then I went over to the telephone. There was a pad of paper by the telephone and I picked it up. The sheet of paper was blank, but by holding it at an angle I could make out souse markings on it. Marian had written something and torn a sheet off, leaving the impression on the sheet I was looking at. I tore off the sheet and held it to the light. I could just make out: 37 Victoria Drive.

“
Know where Victoria Drive is?
”
I asked Mrs. Sinclair, who stood anxiously watching me.

“
It
’
s the other side of the town before you come to the smelting works. You go down Main Street and keep on to the last of the traffic lights, then you turn right and Victoria Drive is the last turning on the left.
”

“
Thanks,
”
I said, and put the sheet of paper in my pocket.
“
I guess that
’
s all.
”

“
I
’
m so worried,
”
she began.
“
Hadn
’
t
’
we better tell the police?
”

I said no, the police hadn
’
t done anything in the past and I couldn
’
t see them doing anything now.
“
Leave this to me,
”
I said.
“
I
’
ll find her.
”

As I turned to leave the room I took one more quick look around, and then I paused.
“
Isn
’
t that her bag?
”
I said, going over to an armchair and picking up a smart black and white handbag lying partly concealed by a cushion.

“
I wonder why she didn
’
t take it with her?
”
Mrs. Sinclair was saying as I opened the bag.

I didn
’
t hear what else she said because the first thing I saw in the bag was a blue ticket. I knew what it was before I took it from the bag and examined it.

Printed on one side of it was the following message:

You have just been photographed.

Call this afternoon
for a free specimen photograph.

Six photographs - 50 cents.

Beautiful Enlargements mounted
and ready to mail: $1.50 each.

THE STREET-CAMERA STUDIO

1655 S
inclair Street West, Cranville.

* * *

It was growing dark by the time I reached Victoria Drive. I paid off the taxi at the corner and walked casually down the street, noting the number of each house as I passed. Far ahead a lone streetlight burned. Warmer lights dotted the night on either side where houses were spaced half a dozen to a block.

I kept on counting the numbers . . . 29, 31, 33, 35 . . . and then I stopped in front of a house which was half hidden by an overgrown hedge. On one of the gateposts a 3 and a 7 of pale metal caught what light there was. A square white card was nailed to one of the posts. Putting my face close to the card, I could see that it was a Sale or Rent sign.

I pushed open the gate and went up the cement walk to the house. I stood still on the walk at the foot of the porch steps for a long moment. My heart was thumping uneasily and I had the kind of sickish feeling one has when one is going to have a tooth drawn. No sound came from the house, which was dark except for another pale square card nailed on its door.

I moved silently to the door and listened. I could hear nothing. I went to a window and then to another. I tried both windows and the door. They were all locked.

I stood there wondering what to do. Had Marian come to this empty, lonely-looking house? Had she entered or had she gone away when she found no one was living in it? I wasn
’
t taking any chances. I had to get in and see for myself.

I fiddled with one of the windows and slipped back the catch. The window went up slowly with my push and didn
’
t make much noise doing it. I peered into the darkness and smelt the dank, musty smell of a room that hadn
’
t been occupied for a long time.

With my gun in my right fist I stepped over the sill, down into the room. The bare boards creaked under my weight and the air in the room stifled me.

A full minute of breathless listening got me nothing. Holding my gun ahead of my body, I began exploring the joint. Nothing but the floor came under my feet as I edged my way forward. My groping left hand felt nothing until it touched a wall from which hung strips of wallpaper which rustled under my fingers. I seemed to have crossed a room that was empty.

I moved along the wall, hunting for a door. Half a dozen of my undersized steps brought me to one. I leaned against it, listened and heard nothing.

I found the knob, turned it softly and eased the door back. As I stood peering into the darkness, trying to get my eyes used to the murk, I heard a car coming down the street. It was travelling slowly, and as it approached the house it slowed right down, finally stopping outside.

Four quick strides took me to the window. I could see the outline of the taxi, but it was now too dark to see anything more. I caught a glimpse of a figure getting out of the taxi and the cab door slammed. Then the figure came hurrying up the cement walk. A moment later a key turned in the lock and the front door opened.

I slid across the room to the door and stood behind it. I heard the front door close and footsteps sounded in the lobby. A light showed under the door and the doorknob rattled. Then the door opened and I smelt lilac.

I wasn
’
t surprised. I guessed it was Audrey Sheridan as she came up the cement walk. Keeping close to the wall, I shoved my gun into my hip pocket and waited for her to come in.

The beam of the flashlight crept around the peeling walls. A large spider with gigantic legs scurried away from the light, lost its hold on the wall and fell with a little plop to the floor.

I heard Audrey catch her breath in a shudder of horror. I grinned to myself.

She was going to get a bigger scare than that.

Then she was in the room. I could see her clearly outlined against the beam of the flashlight. She was trousered and her hair was caught up in a silk handkerchief.

I didn
’
t give her a chance to get set, but launched myself at her knees.

She gave a little scream as we went down together. For a minute we were a silent tangle of kicking legs and flailing arms. I was scared stiff she
’
d start some of her jiu-jitsu stuff, so every time she tried to free her arms I smothered her, by lying across her face and pinning her arms to the floor.

“
Sister,
”
I said,
“
you
’
ll save yourself a lot of damage if you
’
ll relax.
”

Instead, she bit my chest and I yelped, pulling away from her.

She got one hand free and it swished past my face with force; as it came back again, I grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm behind her. Then pulling her up, I turned her over and slammed her face down on the floor. I jammed my knee between her shoulders and nailed her.

“
Behave yourself,
”
I panted,
“
Or I
’
ll really get tough with you.
”

I heard her catch her breath and she relaxed.
“
You
’
re hurting me,
”
she said in a small voice.

I didn
’
t ease up.
“
It
’
ll be a change,
”
I said, sitting across her knees, but still holding her arm screwed up behind her right shoulder blade.
“
The last time we had a romp, you tossed me against a brick wall.
”

“
And I
’
ll do it again,
”
she said, her voice suddenly furious.
“
Let me go, you big beast!
”

“
Start whenever you
’
re ready,
”
I said casually, and put on a little pressure.

She gave a cry.
“
Don
’
t!
”
she implored.
“
You
’
re hurting!
”

“
It
’
s about time you met someone your own weight,
”
I told her.
“
You
’
ve been having it all your own way. Now, you talk, or I
’
ll tear your arm off!
”

“
You and who else?
”
she asked, and giggled.

I also had to grin.
“
Are you going to behave?
”
I asked.
“
Will you sit up and be a good girl if I let you?
”

“
I
’
ll sit up when I like and I
’
ll behave as I like,
”
she said defiantly,
“
and it
’
ll take more than a big jerk like you to stop me!
”

I put my hand on her head and pushed her nose on the floorboards.

“
Don
’
t talk so big,
”
I said,
“
or I
’
ll dust the whole of this joint with you.
”

God knows what happened then. She suddenly heaved and next second I was lying on my back with my neck caught between her ankles and she was putting on a squeeze that pretty near throttled me.

I
’
d done a little all-in wrestling in my time and that was something I understood. I had her shoe off and was among her toes before she knew what I was at. She broke the lock and wriggled away from me and for a moment I lost her in the darkness.

I sat up panting, my ears pricked, waiting for her to jump me.

Then suddenly she laughed.
“
Pax,
”
she said.
“
Please, pax.
”

“
Sure,
”
I said.
“
These little bouts with you are shortening my life. It isn
’
t natural for a girl to be so rough. Come and sit down beside me. And if you don
’
t keep your hands to yourself, I
’
ll call a cop.
”

I heard her move towards me and then the flashlight went on. I turned and found her behind me. I also found I was sitting on a floor inches thick with dust and I hurriedly got to my feet.

We stared at each other in the beam of the flashlight. We were both covered in dust and Audrey
’
s face was smeared with long streaks of dirt.

“
I guess we do look a couple of bums,
”
I said.
“
What do you think you
’
re doing here?
”

“
I might ask you that,
”
she returned,
“
but I
’
m not inquisitive. Let
’
s say hello and good-bye without any further talk.
”

“
No,
”
I said.
“
This nonsense has been going on too long. You
’
re not leaving here until you promise to give me that picture of Dixon you pinched off me. It
’
s entirely due to you I
’
m getting nowhere in this case. If I had that picture I
’
d have found the girls by now.
”

“
Oh no, you wouldn
’
t,
”
she said, keeping just out of my reach.
“
You think you could have forced Starkey into the open with it, don
’
t you? Well, I
’
ve tried, and it didn
’
t work.
”

“
You tried?
”
I exclaimed.
“
You mean to say you were crazy enough to tell Starkey you
’
ve got it?
”

She nodded.
“
I
’
m afraid so,
”
she said ruefully.
“
That
’
s why I
’
m lying low for a while. I didn
’
t think he
’
d dare to start anything with me.
”

“
I bet you
’
ve found out different,
”
I said grimly.
“
It beats me you
’
re still alive.
”

“
I know he
’
s kidnapping these girls,
”
she said in a quick burst of confidence.
“
And I thought I
’
d make him produce them if I threatened him with the picture.
”

“
Well, you
’
re wrong,
”
I said.
“
Starkey hasn
’
t anything to do with the kidnapping. I
’
m sure of that. All you
’
ve done is to put yourself in a hell of a spot.
”

“
I tell you he must be at the bottom of it,
”
she said almost angrily.
“
It
’
s the kind of thing he
’
d do. I
’
m sure you
’
re wrong.
”

“
Okay, skip that for a minute,
”
I said impatiently.
“
Tell me what you
’
re doing here. I
’
m looking for Marian French.
”
I snapped my fingers impatiently.
“
But of course you wouldn
’
t know her.
”

“
Yes, I do,
”
Audrey returned quickly.
“
She
’
s a new member of the Gazette
’
s staff.
”

I scowled at her.
“
Yeah; now you tell me what you
’
re doing here.
”

“
I saw her picture in the Street-Camera window this afternoon. So I thought I
’
d come out here just to prove to myself that Starkey is connected with the kidnapping.
”