The Blonde Died Dancing (12 page)

“Oh, for…”

But I didn’t complete my derogatory sentence. A face was pressed up against the square of glass in my studio door. Detective Hankins was looking over the scene of the crime and I was standing in full sight of him. I instantly became a dancing teacher. I stepped in Wendell Kipp’s arms and fox-trotted him around until he was between me and the door.

The door didn’t open; the face at the window moved away.

“You’re shaking,” Kipp said. “You’re all unstrung.”

“That’s typical of me,” I said.

“Look,” he said, “we’ll skip this lesson. Why don’t you take the day off? Rest up for our date tonight, get some beauty sleep. Not that you need it…”

I walked out on the great lover. I fled to the ladies’ locker room where I would be safe from all males, including members of the Homicide Bureau. I wanted to think things over. I hadn’t had time before to put my coat in the locker. I did it now. I went to a settee and tried to relax and be logical over a cigarette.

Steve and I did seem to be getting someplace. A little more time and we just might prove that Steve hadn’t killed Anita Farrell by proving who did. But we needed time. Kipp mustn’t deprive us of that with his threat. Somehow, he had to be put off.

But there was most of a day before that crisis arrived, and I mustn’t waste that day. There was Leone for me to see, and Jack Walston and…

“Hello!”

Hooray Rose plopped down on the settee beside me. The ex-show girl, ex-model was looking a bit exhausted this morning, but on her even exhaustion looked good.

“Hello, Hooray,” I said. “How are you?”

“How would you be?”

“What?”

“Never go out with a fellow from Altoona, Pa. who is in the trucking business. Brother! I finally had to punch him in the stomach. Ever try that? It’s good. But you have to be careful not to hit him in the belt buckle. That can hurt you more than it hurts him. Well, now, let’s see…”

She spilled a batch of money, mostly silver, on her lap.

“I’ve got to count this money,” she said.

“Want some help?”

“No, I’m no good at counting sheep and things like that, but I can count money. This is a collection I took up for Jack and Dottie. Jack Walston and Dottie Harris. They’re teachers here.”

“What’s happening about Jack and Dottie?”

“Tomorrow’s their last day here. They’re getting married. We’re going to have a little party tomorrow night. You know, cake and champagne,”

“Oh. Well, I’d like to contribute.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you, Hester, on account of you’re new here, but if you insist… seventy-five cents.” I gave her three quarters.

“Thanks, Hester. Say, what is it about trucks?”

“Hmmm?”

“When I was a kid I was that way about a boy and he got into truck driving. Brother! I had to break it off. I didn’t want to grow up black and blue. There’s something about trucks.”

“I guess so. Why are Jack and Dottie quitting? Does Jack have another job?”

“Not what you’d call a job.”

“What would you call it?”

“He’s going to open a kind of country night club up in Connecticut somewhere. You know, they used to call them road houses. I certainly hope he doesn’t encourage the truck driver set. You know, they’ll have dining and dancing and a bar and a floor show. Jack and Dottie will do their act. They got a cute act.”

“Has Dottie always been Jack’s partner?”

“Oh, sure.”

“I thought I heard something about Anita Farrell being Jack’s partner for a while.”

“You must’ve heard wrong.”

“How long has Jack been teaching here?”

“About a year.”

“And he never left to take a dancing engagement anywhere? With Anita?”

“Uh-uh. Where’d you get that information?”

“From an unreliable source, I guess.”

“You can say that again. Jack’s just been teaching here steady all the time. Say, speaking of Anita, it wouldn’t surprise me if the Waltzer is a truck driver.”

“Why does everybody think Anita’s murder was a sex crime?”

“Are you kidding? Where’ve you been all your life? Nine times out of ten it’s sex.”

“Nine times out of ten what is sex?”

“Nine times out of ten everything is sex! My God, Hester, haven’t you noticed? Now, I’ve got to count this money…”

“I won’t keep you any longer. And listen, Hooray…”

“Yeah?”

“Before you date another fellow you ask to see his driver’s license.”

“You’re not kidding! Brother!”

I went out to the reception room. Leone was tied up with some people. I scouted around, peeking through the small windows of the individual studios. Dottie’s was empty; apparently she didn’t check in on Fridays until later in the day. I found Jack Walston instructing a group of a dozen women in the basic steps of the rhumba. He didn’t seem to be enjoying his work.

When I got back to the reception room, Leone was alone at her desk. I went to her.

“Leone…”

“Oh, Hester… shouldn’t you be giving a lesson?”

“Mr. Kipp wasn’t up to it. He left. Hangover, I guess.”

“You should tell me anything like that immediately. You could be helping in one of the group classes.”

“Sorry. Leone, I’ve got to speak to you. Not about my job here.”

She didn’t answer for a moment. Her guard went up. Then she said, “What do you want to speak to me about?”

“I think you know.”

“I know?”

“What was that you hit me with, Leone? Honestly, sneaking up behind a girl like that! What would Mr. Bell think of such uncouth behavior?”

“All right,” she said. “But this is a busy day…”

“Why can’t you arrange to have lunch when I do?”

“I don’t ordinarily have lunch…”

She stopped talking. She was looking beyond me and I turned to see what was so intriguing. Immediately, I turned back. Detectives Bolling and Hankins were coming down a corridor toward us. They spurted across the reception room to catch an impatient elevator. I was glad to see them go. Leone didn’t seem to miss them either, but I didn’t discuss it with her.

I said, “Leone, stretch a point today and have some lunch. I’m sure if Mr. Bell knew about your uncouth behavior…”

“All right.”

We made a date for lunch.

The lunch hour
that Leone arranged for us was late; the small restaurant on Forty-sixth off Madison was nearly empty. Leone told the waiter she wasn’t hungry, that she would just have a Dubonnet cocktail. I didn’t feel in the mood for food either, but I ordered milk and a sandwich. I had a hunch that I should keep my strength at its maximum. The waiter went away.

Leone said, “Why did you get a job at the school?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Is Hester Frost your real name?”

“Leone, I’m not going to answer any of your questions. I’m not really tough, but I’m going to pretend I am. Call this any nasty word you like, but if you don’t tell me the truth about what I want to know, I’m going to talk to Mr. Bell. About you, Leone.”

“What makes you think he’d care?”

“Because… as of now… he’s going to marry you.” Her eyes behind the stylish spectacles opened wide. Her surprise was genuine. That meant Bell had not yet told her about my conference with him. Perhaps he hadn’t the opportunity, perhaps he meant not to tell her at all. At any rate, it gave me a chance to shock her some more, and I used that chance.

“I know all about it, Leone. From his proposal to you last New Year’s Eve… by telephone… to your plans to be married this one. I know you don’t even want to wait these few weeks, you want to get married now, right away…”

“My God,” she said, “Where did you learn all this? Nobody knows!”

“Listen some more, Leone…”

“Are you with the police… no, you’d tell me if you were.”

“I’ll tell you this much about me before we get on about you. I’m in much worse trouble than you are. That’s why I’m behaving in such a… shall we say, an unlady-like way? Now. It was you who knocked me out last night to keep me from seeing you…”

“You don’t know that, you’re bluffing…”

“You didn’t want me to see you because you had found something in Anita’s apartment… some tape recordings hidden in a lamp base. But you didn’t get them all, Leone, did you know that? There were some more in another lamp. I got those.”

All the fight was out of Leone now. She was no longer the cool, calm, girl-executive. She was a frightened, appealing young lady in trouble. She sat looking at me, waiting. I let her wait while I lit a cigarette I didn’t want. I hoped she’d get a little more frightened. “Leone,” I said, “I want the tapes you have.”

“I don’t have them anymore. I burned them.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice low, vehement. “Yes, really. You didn’t think I’d keep those horrible things. You know what was on them. Anita Farrell was a blackmailer. She was dreadful, evil… I didn’t even play all the tapes I found. I burned them all.”

“You just played them until you found the one you wanted? Then destroyed them all?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you should have done that… burned them. Maybe one of those blackmail victims of Anita’s killed her…”

“Do you expect me to care who killed Anita? I don’t want to see that person caught, punished…”

She broke off as the waiter approached us with our orders. He did his job and scampered back to his own, interrupted lunch. Leone drank half of her Dubonnet in one gulp.

She said, “I wish that were a double Martini.”

“I’ll buy you one.”

“No, thanks. Hester… or whatever your name is…”

“Call me Hester.”

“You’re either trying to find out who killed Anita or else…” She paused and her eyes narrowed as she appraised me. “Or else that’s just what you want me to believe. Was Anita blackmailing you?”

I didn’t answer her.

“No, of course you wouldn’t admit it. But, believe me, Hester, if you were involved in any of the recordings I played before I found the one I wanted, I’m unaware of it. And I did burn them, every single, filthy one of them. That’s what you’ve got to do with the ones you have. Then Anita’s victims will be safe. Free. None of them was a criminal…”

“There was one who was. A man named Stubby. Did you ever meet him or hear of him while you were living with Anita?”

“Stubby? No, I don’t remember ever hearing that name.”

“He…”

“No. No, don’t tell me what he did! I don’t want to know. If he committed a real crime he was the exception. Mostly Anita’s victims were men making fools of themselves over her.”

“The only exceptions to that I know of, Leone, are Stubby… and you.”

“You’re taking for granted that Anita was blackmailing me.”

“Why else would you be interested in the tapes?”

“I suppose I’m going to have to tell you why.”

“I’m afraid so, Leone.”

“Or you’ll go to Oliver Bell.”

“Yes.”

“It’s ironic. It’s very ironic… as you shall see.” She glanced at her wrist watch. “I’ll have to talk fast,” she said briskly. “Don’t interrupt me unless it’s absolutely necessary. I’d known Anita for quite a while… at the school, but I was surprised when she invited me to share her apartment. I was lonely then, and I was grateful to her, and flattered. Later I found out that she was using me.

“We got along fine together. Actually, I didn’t see much of her and pretty soon, after Oliver and I became interested in each other, I saw practically nothing of her. So we got along perfectly. And things went from better to better for Oliver and me. He proposed to me, as you know, on New Year’s Eve and we planned to be married a year later.”

Leone smiled wryly. “Not a very hasty man, Oliver… but worth waiting for. I couldn’t have been happier. Then one night I came home unexpectedly and found Anita playing back one of her more lurid tapes. I’d never known what she was doing, not even suspected. I was shocked, paralyzed, but I finally got the whole set-up. I even understood why Anita wanted me to live with her. She used me as a sort of bodyguard. If any of her victims began to play too rough, she could use my possible arrival as a threat. I was a kind of absentee chaperone.

“Oh, I was in a fine rage when I found out. I was practically on my way to the police when Anita threw her bomb at me. She played a certain tape from her collection for me. It was a little tête-a-tête between her and Oliver Bell.

“It wasn’t much, really. Oliver succumbed scarcely at all to Anita’s charms. But he had driven her home once after work, he’d come up with her for a nightcap… it was before he and I… before we’d fallen in love. She did get him to admit she was a very attractive young woman. Oh, to be honest, he did get excited about her, but it was more ludicrous than lurid. But, as Anita pointed out to me, if she played that tape over the P. A. system at the school… which she threatened to do… he’d be laughed right out of business. Actually, he would have died of shame. You know Oliver Bell.

“So there was nothing at all for me to do… except move out of Anita’s apartment as soon as I could. I don’t know if Oliver ever learned about the existence of that recording. Certainly I’d never humiliate him by mentioning it. But I think he doesn’t know. I can’t believe Anita would ever have gone so far as to try to blackmail Oliver. No matter what the consequences might be, I’m certain he’s too moral a man ever to pay blackmail.

“So you understand, Hester,” Leone said emphatically, “I’m convinced that Oliver would never be suspected of Anita’s murder. It wasn’t to save him from that that I wanted the recording. It wasn’t that important. But I was working late at the school last night. I heard one of the policemen talking on the phone; they were going to take the guard off Anita’s place. I still had a key to her apartment… and I knew where the tapes were hidden. I saw the chance to eliminate the possibility that Oliver might be embarrassed by that tape if the police… or some unscrupulous person found it. I’d just got inside her apartment when I heard someone in the hall. I was terrified. I waited and waited… then I heard someone at the window. I grabbed one lamp… it was all I had time to get… and made a dash for it. That’s all there is. But I’m sorry I hit you, Hester.”

“You hit me with the lamp?”