by Henry, Kane,
Smith smiled. “Did I ever mention to you, Mr. Gunn, about the hard sensible head on this little gal?”
“I believe you did, Mr. Smith.”
“I reiterate.”
“I agree.”
“And on such felicitous note, my dear Miss Bain,” said Smith, “I suggest we take our leave. There’s a good deal of paperwork to be accomplished and it’s getting late.”
“Oh, we have dinner,” wailed Edie.
“Some other time, Miss Hart.”
Alice Bain went to Peter Gunn and shook his hand. “I thank you for everything, Mr. Gunn. And if there is any fee due you, I assure you—”
“Nonsense,” said Gunn. “It was a pleasure to know you.”
“Come along,” said Smith. “Good-by, all.”
And alone, seated on the couch with Peter Gunn, both of them glistening with heat and stingers, Edie Hart said, “Wow, the way things work out.”
“I can’t complain. It’ll be easier on me to complete this job.”
“What’s to complete?”
“A report on Lockwood.”
“There are developments?”
“Listen.” Gunn drew the telegram from the pocket of the Jamaica shorts to which he had transferred it. He read: “DEAREST PETER: THE GUITAR IS FULL OF CLINKERS. A BAD APPLE. A LADYKILLER FOR BUCKS. CHIEF INTEREST IS MONEY. PLAYS THE BLACKMAIL GAME LEGAL. MARRIES THE MARKS THEN THEY PAY THROUGH THE NOSE FOR DIVORCE. TURNED THE TRICK THRICE. TWICE IN NEW YORK. ONCE IN WASHINGTON. EACH WIFE WAS AN HEIRESS. EACH PAID HEAVY TO GET RID OF HIM. EACH MARRIAGE UNDER HIS NAME OF LACY. POSSIBLY NOW USES LOCKWOOD NAME TO CONCEAL RECORD OF PRIOR MARRIAGES. GOOD MUSICIAN BUT A BAD ACTOR. UGLY TEMPER. NASTY CHARACTER BENEATH VENEER OF BOYISH CHARM. GET YOUR ALICE TO STEER CLEAR OF THIS SLICK ARTICLE ELSE SHE WILL WAKE UP IN THE WACKIEST OF WONDERLANDS. LONG TELEGRAM BUT STILL CAN AFFORD IT. YOURS: DEAREST PETER.”
“Who is dearest Peter?” said Edie.
“I’m your dearest Peter,” said Gunn, moving close. “But mustn’t you get this dear information to dearest Alice?”
“There’s lots of time, dearest Edie,” said Gunn, putting an arm around her.
“But the dinner’ll burn,” squeaked dearest Edie.
“Let it burn,” said Gunn, putting both arms around her. And the telegram fluttered to the floor.
Dell First Edition, 1960