Abrams says to Polly: “He was your husband, wasn’t he? Married three years ago in Topeka?”
She nods, glancing sidewise at Dancer. “But I didn’t want to have any more to do with him and so when he showed up last week I didn’t say anything about it.”
Abrams: “What did he go to the pen for?”
Polly: “Blackmail.”
Abrams: “And what did he have on you that he was hanging around shaking you down for?”
Polly, hesitantly: “Well, he knew about me and Robert and I didn’t want Robert to find out I was married and then I was kind of sorry for Phil. He was broke and had come out of the pen with bad lungs.”
Abrams: “And why did you keep it from Dancer?”
Polly: “It was nobody else’s business and a girl in this racket gets along better without people knowing about things like that.”
Abrams: “You didn’t know Dancer found out about it, did you?”
Polly: “Not until—” and breaks off with a frightened look at Dancer.
Abrams: “Go ahead—not until what?”
Dancer: “I never found out about it up to now.” Then to Polly: “I wish I had, baby.”
Abrams says to Dancer: “Stick your mouth out of this until you get your invitation. You’ll get it.” Then to Polly: “And now you think he killed Phil because he found out?”
Polly stammers: “No—I don’t—I—”
Abrams breaks in very sharply: “Isn’t it the truth, sister, that you and this husband of yours were working together on Robert Landis and something went wrong and you had to kill him?”
Polly shakes her head and says: “No.”
Abrams, paying no attention to her answer: “And then isn’t it just as true that Dancer found out about it and killed Phil?”
Dancer interrupts again: “Listen, I never found out about it till I come to this room.”
Abrams: “Whenever you found out about it, what do you think now—don’t you think they were double-crossing you?”
Dancer shrugs and says: “Maybe I do, now, but I didn’t know anything about it till you told me.”
Abrams asks him: “Do you think Phil tried to stick Landis up and had to kill him?”
Dancer replies contemptuously: “I don’t know what a punk like that would do.”
Abrams’s manner has become increasingly irritable through this scene so that when, as he starts to ask Dancer: “Now do you—” and Nick interrupts him by saying: “Let’s go into the check business—” Abrams turns around and says, sharply for him: “Who’s doing this?”
Nick says very mildly: “It’s hardly ever been my party. Come on, Nora.”
Abrams says very earnestly: “Aw listen, Mr. Charles, I’m not getting any rest out of this at all and I’m kind of jumpy. What were you going to say?”
Nick: “I thought I said it—about those forgeries?”
Dancer says to Nick: “I’ve put up with your gum-heeling for a day or two, but I got a business to run. I better be down there running it than barbering here with you. Why don’t the two of us just go out in the hall and see who smacks who in the nose and call it square?”
Nick: “No, let’s do it the hard way. The ten-grand check Landis is supposed to have given Polly is a forgery.”
Dancer: “So what’s it to me?”
Nick: “The signature was traced from one of the other checks he gave her.”
Dancer: “I’m still asking you—what’s that to me?”
Nick: “Maybe Polly can answer that.” He asks her: “Did you do the tracing or did he?”
While Polly is hesitating, Dancer says very distinctly: “I told you before, I don’t know anything about that check. Whatever was between Landis and Polly was between them.”
Nick says to Polly: “You were right—they are letting you hold the bag.” Before Polly can answer, Dancer, addressing Nick, but talking for Polly’s benefit, asks: “What bag? This check you’re talking about—has anybody tried to pass it yet? What kind of charge have you got against her until she does?”
Nick and Abrams look at each other and Abrams says: “Wise guy.” Then to Polly: “Come on, answer that question now.”
Polly says hesitantly: “Well, I don’t know—I—” and breaks off, looking all the time at Dancer, hoping for a cue.
Dancer says nothing and gives Polly no sign.
Polly: “Honestly, Lieutenant Abrams, I don’t think that check is a forgery.”
Abrams asks: “Where did you get it?”
Polly: “Well, I—” and breaks off again.
Abrams: “What are you covering this lug up for, sister?” He takes the note David had given him out of his pocket and shows it to her, saying: “See, he had already found out Phil was your husband.”
Polly reads the note and her eyes widen. She looks at Dancer.
Dancer: “If you’re helping to frame me, Polly, okay; I’ll have to figure out what I do about that. But if you haven’t made a dicker for yourself with the police, I don’t see where you’ll be getting anywhere just running off at the head for the fun of it.”
Abrams starts toward Dancer, saying angrily: “Listen, you—”
The door opens and Caspar comes in. He bows very formally to everybody in the room, then says to Dancer: “I just heard a moment ago.” Then very pompously, to Abrams: “Lieutenant, I cannot permit you to—”
Abrams turns to Nick and groans: “Now look—we got this five-and-ten-cent-store Darrow with us again.”
Caspar says to Nick: “Good evening, Mr. Charles.”
Nick bows, buttoning up his coat and patting his pockets to see if he’s lost anything.
Caspar goes over to Dancer, puts a hand on his shoulder, and says: “My dear boy—I’m entirely at your service.”
Dancer shakes the hand off his shoulder and snarls: “You ought to be—for the dough you charge me.”
Caspar tries to smile as if he thought Dancer were joking. He asks Lum Kee: “What are these policemen doing now?”
Lum Kee, bland as usual, says: “Trouble, trouble—they want to see us—we go—why not? They police, we innocent, you betcha.”
Abrams growls: “Aw, cut it out. Hold your conferences on your own time. We’ve got work to do. Has anybody here ever been in this apartment before?”
Some of those there say “No,” some shake their heads.
Abrams looks questioningly at Nick. Nick says: “Perhaps Polly could help us if we told her what it’s all about.”
Polly: “What?”
Nick: “You know this place is right over yours?”
Polly: “Yes.”
Nick, indicating the ear pieces: “With that dingus you can hear a pin drop in your place.” She stares at the ear pieces in surprise. Nick goes on. “And if you’ll go to the window, you’ll see a ladder running down to your window.” She goes to the window, looks at the ladder, then turns back to Nick, still more bewildered. Nick picks up the extra piece of pipe and says: “And nobody’s head would be helped much by being patted with this.”
Polly: “But I don’t understand—”
Nick, looking at Dancer and Lum Kee, says: “Is there anybody here that does understand?”
Dancer looks sullenly at him but doesn’t say anything.
Lum Kee says cheerfully: “We run restaurant—you detective.”
Nick, to Polly: “Even if you don’t understand, who can you think of that would have this much interest in you?” hefting the pipe in his hand.
Polly: “Nobody.”
Nick: “Phil had a key to your apartment. Has Dancer?”
Before she can reply, Dancer takes a key out of his pocket and tosses it on the floor, saying: “Yes. So what would I need that trick ladder for?”
Nick asks: “Has Lum Kee?”
Polly: “No. of course not.”
Nick: “Who else?”
Polly: “Nobody.”
Nick: “Did Robert have one?”
Polly: “No. What do you think I did, put them ar
ound under doors?”
A policeman opens the door and Selma comes in. She and Nora immediately run to each other, uttering exclamations of affection.
David exclaims: “Selma,” and goes over to them asking, “are you all right, dear?”
She exclaims: “David!” and holding out her hands to him, she starts to ask him a question. “Did you—” and then breaks off, glancing nervously at Lieutenant Abrams. “Oh, it’s been terrible,” she tells Nora and David.
Nora: “I know, dear, but it’ll soon be over. Nick will have everything cleared up in no time. He’s wonderful.”
Nick: “Nice of you to say so, darling.” He goes over to greet Selma.
Selma: “Oh Nick, I’m so grateful to you. Have you really—?”
Nick: “Now don’t start asking us questions. The game is for us to ask you. Have you ever seen any of these people before?” indicating in turn, Polly, Dancer, and Lum Kee.
To each Selma replies “No.”
Nick asks: “Have you ever been in this building before?”
Selma: “No.”
Nick: “Did you know that Robert and Miss Byrnes were friends?”
Selma: “No.”
Nick: “All right. Now this next question you’ve answered before, but the police weren’t altogether satisfied with the way you answered it. I want you to remember that Robert’s dead, so whatever you say isn’t going to hurt him though it may help us find his murderer and get you out of this mess.”
Selma: “What is it, Nick?”
Nick: “That $10,000 check of yours that was deposited in Robert’s account. Did you or didn’t you write it?”
Selma hesitates, looks from Nick to Abrams then down to the floor, and in a very low voice, says: “I didn’t.”
Abrams, who has been a very interested listener up to this point, now takes his hat off and throws it angrily on the floor. But when he crosses to confront Selma, his voice and manner are more hurt than angry. He asks: “Why couldn’t you have told us that before? Whatever got into you to—” He breaks off as her lips begin to tremble, and grabs a chair, saying: “Now, now, sit down, Mrs. Landis, be comfortable. One of you boys get Mrs. Landis a glass of water.” Then again to her: “Now, now, maybe there’s not a great deal of harm done anyhow.” Then aside to Nick, as she sits down: “If this dame gets hysterical again I’ll go nuts.”
Selma: “Thank you. I’m quite all right.”
Abrams mumbles in Nick’s ear: “You ask her the rest. She always blows up on me.”
Nick says to Selma: “Since you’ve gone this far, I think you’d better tell the police why you didn’t tell them the truth before.”
Selma: “I started to, but Aunt Katherine wouldn’t let me.”
Abrams growls: “That old battle-axe.”
Nick asks: “Why wouldn’t she?”
Selma: “She said there was enough scandal with Robert being killed that way, without this.”
Nick: “Thanks. That’s fine.” Pats her on the shoulder, turns away.
Abrams: “Maybe that’s fine for you, but it could stand a little more explaining for my part.”
Nick: “The explaining room is out there,” indicating the kitchen. “Shall we try it now?” He and Abrams go into the kitchen. Nick continues: “The gadget is that Aunt Katherine thought Robert forged the check and she was willing to let the $10,000 go to keep people from knowing there had been a forger in the family as well as a murdered man—” Then as an afterthought, he adds: “Especially since it was Selma’s $10,000.”
Abrams asks: “Had he ever done anything like that before?”
Nick, earnestly: “That boy had done everything.”
Francis comes to the door and says: “Telephone for you,” to Abrams.
Abrams goes out.
Nick spies a battered cocktail shaker on the shelf, and begins to look through the closets for something to put in it. The closets are absolutely bare. He disgustedly throws the cocktail shaker in the garbage can as Abrams comes back.
Abrams: “The laboratory says those red hairs were probably from a wig and that the broken specs were only windowglass. Were you kind of expecting something like that?”
Nick: “Kinda.”
Abrams: “And the gun’s not the one those people were killed with. Expect that?”
Nick: “Kinda.”
Abrams: “But what’s really good is, the boys picked up some pretty nice fingerprints of Dancer’s in the joint. Let’s go in and see how he likes that.”
Nick: “All right, but mind if I get in a question first?”
Abrams: “Go ahead, help yourself.”
They return to the room where the others are.
Nick asks Lum Kee: “Did you ever mail to Mrs. Landis a cigarette case that you thought she left in the restaurant about a week ago?”
Lum Kee: “Maybe yes, maybe no. All the time people leave things.”
Nick to Dancer: “I know he didn’t. You sent it to her pretending you thought it was hers and when she sent it back with a note saying it wasn’t, you traced her signature on the bottom of a $10,000 check payable to Robert, and sent it over for deposit in his account because you knew the bank wouldn’t question that and when they eventually found out it was a forgery, he’d be blamed for it because he’d done things like that before. Then you were all set to forge a check on his account for the same $10,000 while Polly kept him busy so that the bank couldn’t reach him to ask him about it if they got suspicious. And so then if he’s killed, who’s going to be able to prove that he didn’t forge his wife’s name to the check to get money to give to this girl he was in love with?”
Dancer asks scornfully: “And then I suppose I knock him off and stir up all this fuss before I get the dough? What kind of a stumble-bum does that make me out to be?”
Nick: “I’ll let you know in a little while. Take the witness, Lieutenant Abrams.”
Abrams: “I’ll tell you what kind of a stumble-bum you are. You’re the kind that left fingerprints all over Phil Byrnes’s joint when you killed him.”
Caspar comes forward between Dancer and Abrams, saying: “Lieutenant Abrams, I cannot allow—”
Dancer takes him by the back of the neck and pushes him out of the way, snarling: “Shut up! Everything you say is used against me.” Then to Abrams: “Yeah, I was at Phil’s place last night and when I left he was on the floor with a split lip and a goog and a couple of dents in him here and there but he was just as alive as you are, if that means anything.”
Abrams: “You mean you went up there when you had the switch pulled in your place?”
Dancer: “Yeah.”
Abrams: “What for?”
Dancer looks thoughtful for a moment, then says: “Okay, I don’t know what I’m letting myself in for, but I’m not going to let you hang any murder rap on me. This Robert was a sucker and Polly and I were taking him. Maybe it was some kind of check razzle-dazzle like he (jerking a thumb at Nick) said, maybe it wasn’t. Even if it had been, what would be the sense of killing him? Nobody’d have believed him if he’d said he hadn’t forged his wife’s name. Maybe we even talked him into doing it; anyways, he’s cooled before we get anything. This guy,” jerking his thumb again at Nick, “says Phil followed Robert and Polly down the street. Knowing Phil, I figured he tried to stick Robert up that night and had to kill him. I don’t like having a punk gum things up for me that way, so why shouldn’t I go over and push him around a little to learn him manners. But I didn’t kill him.”
Abrams asks: “Did you ever wear a wig?”
Dancer seems completely surprised. Then he says: “No, but you ought to see my collection of hoopskirts.”
Abrams asks Lum Kee: “Did you?”
Lum Kee says: “No,” pulling a lock of his hair. “Good hair—see?”
Abrams groans and says to Nick: “I hate comedians.” Then he asks Polly: “Did you?”
Polly: “No.”
Abrams: “Have you thought of anything that might have something
to do with this layout?” indicating the window from which the ladder is hanging and the earphones.
Polly: “No. But maybe this was all just a gag. Nobody came down and hit me on the head with that pipe and Robert wasn’t killed in my place.”
Nick asks her: “You know why that was, don’t you?”
Polly: “No.”
Francis says to the detective standing beside him: “What a swell gal she’d be to take out—all she can say is ‘No.’”
Nick: “I’ll tell you. This mysterious Anderson, probably in a red wig, phony glasses, and gloves to keep from leaving fingerprints, was sitting up here at his listening post waiting for a good chance to come down and polish off Robert, and hearing most of the things that were said down there between you and Phil and you and Dancer and you and Robert until he knew more about all of you than any of you did. But for one reason or another, he put off the killing until he learned that you and Robert were going away the next day. It was that night or never with him, but he got a bad break. Pedro came up and wanted to put a new rug down. That would have exposed the listening post and spoiled everything; so when he tries to talk Pedro out of it—”
Asta, who has been playing with David over by the open window, now lifts his leg against the chair.
Nora yells: “Asta!” then complains, “Now I’ll have to take you out just when I was so interested. Couldn’t you wait until I get back, Nickie?”
David: “I’ll take him out for you.”
Nick to Abrams: “Murderers get funnier every year, don’t they?”
Abrams: “Huh?”
Nick: “Just when you get ready to arrest them they want to take dogs out walking!”
Everybody looks at Nick in surprise.
Nick: “David is Anderson. He didn’t recognize Pedro any more than Robert or I did, but in spite of the disguise, Pedro finally recognized him just as Polly told us he’d recognized Robert. I suppose David gave him some hocus-pocus story, but Pedro, knowing Robert was spending a lot of time in the apartment just below this, probably knowing that Robert married Selma and knowing that David had been engaged to her when Pedro was working for Nora, and knowing Nora married a detective, thought he’d better change the lock and keep David out until he could come over and ask Nora’s and my advice. He was foolish enough to tell David what he was going to do and David followed him over and shot him in the vestibule.”
Crime Stories Page 115