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Martinis and Murder (Prologue Books)

Page 12

by Henry, Kane,


  I said, “Let’s go into the dining room. Sit down, boys.”

  “Terrible,” Gorin groaned. “This is terrible.”

  I looked at him sharp and he looked back at me through wet eyes. I said, “You realize, I hope, how much your brother Eric resembled you.”

  He didn’t answer.

  I drew a deep breath and I said, “Professor Brewster and Mr. Gorin, you know that murder in this house means thorough police investigation. And since you two were here alone, it would center on both of you. It would mean detention and questioning. Probably arrest. It would mean, in all probability, that there could be no release for either of you for quite some time.”

  Brewster went to a table and opened a box and drew out a cigar and lit it absently and sat down again, heavily.

  I looked at him directly: “I am a detective. Of sorts. I am working on a case in which Mr. Gorin is involved. I would prefer that Mr. Gorin did not go to jail. Nor do I want the police messing up my investigation. I also think it highly probable that Eric Gorin was killed by someone confusing him with Wesley Gorin. Mr. Gorin and I, only recently, were discussing the possibility of just such an attack being made upon him, weren’t we, Mr. Gorin? I hope, now, that Mr. Gorin is convinced.

  “May we depend upon your co-operation, Professor?” I asked.

  “Yes. If it will help.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But what can be done?” Brewster said.

  “You will both get dressed and get out of here. You will go to a late movie. You will then go to a bar and have yourselves some drinks. And be sure you are noticed. Argue or kiss somebody or something, but be conspicuous. Don’t get back here until after two o’clock. And get this straight: it is now nine fifty; you went to that movie early in the evening. Just a minute. Where’s your phone?”

  Brewster said, “In the hall.”

  I went there and I called the Rialto. “What time did your feature start? The one that went on at about eight o’clock?”

  “Just at that time, sir. Eight o’clock.”

  “Thank you.”

  I went back to the dining room. “You went to the Rialto at Forty-second Street and Broadway and saw yourselves a sweet horror-horror. You got there at about a few minutes to eight. The feature went on at eight o’clock. All right? That’s the movie you’ll see as soon as you get out of here. Then when you got out you went to that bar and stayed there until about two o’clock and then you came home. Eric went out at about six o’clock this evening and that’s all you know about that. Any questions?”

  Phlegmatically Brewster asked, “Is this called an alibi arrangement?”

  “Framing an alibi,” I said grimly, “is not as easy as it sounds. Keeping it simple is paramount. These things can be broken down in the most unaccountable ways. There won’t, however, be any real pressure on either of you. It will all be routine.”

  “Why?” Gorin asked.

  “Because neither of you will be more than one part of a group to whom many questions will be put. They won’t single you out because the dead Professor won’t be found here, in this house.”

  “Now, look here, Chambers …” Gorin began loudly.

  Flatly I said, “I’m doing this. Or must you keep on being obdurate until we peel you off a carpet next?”

  Gorin shuddered. Brewster sucked on his cigar.

  “Well?” I queried. “Do we agree? Do you leave it to me?”

  Brewster coughed and said to Gorin, “I think … he sounds perfectly capable. Perhaps we had better.”

  Gorin said, “Perhaps … yes.”

  “All right, then, please. We’ve got to move quickly. I’m trying to arrange that you be asked questions, but with no particular interest in either of you, which you will answer, and which will close it as far as you two are concerned.”

  Gorin said, thinly, “We are leaving everything to you, Mr. Chambers, completely.”

  They went upstairs and I called in Higgins and Hilliad. I said, “Alice, you’ll do the bodyguarding of Gorin by yourself. Frank will stay with me. If there is any trouble, don’t hesitate to use your gun and that’s orders.”

  I said to Higgins, “This thing is as hot as a pistol. There wasn’t much time. You two got in here within a few minutes of the actual job. As soon as we get rid of those two, we’ll give this joint a real going-over. All right, Alice. Fade.”

  She faded.

  “What do you mean,” Higgins asked oozingly — ’as soon as we get rid of those two’?”

  “They’re going to the movies.”

  “They’re going to the movies,” Higgins repeated mumblingly.

  Gorin and Brewster came down.

  “So long, gentlemen,” I said. “You never saw me or Miss Hilliad or Mr. Higgins. Nothing happened. You don’t know a thing. Have a good time.”

  Brewster stared at the body of Eric Gorin. Gorin touched his arm and they went out silently.

  I said, “Lock those doors and let’s do some work.”

  The room showed no signs of any struggle. Gorin was lying as though he had been shot, standing, facing the door. An open book was inverted over the arm of an easy chair.

  I did the dining room. I worked slowly. I found nothing. I looked in on Higgins. He was through. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  “Let’s both do the hallway,” I said. “I figure it like you do. That’s where the guy was. In the hallway at the entrance to this room. It’s miserably dim there.”

  Wordlessly, Higgins produced a flashlight.

  “Fine,” I said. “Keep it burning.”

  There was an old-fashioned brass umbrella stand at the foot of the stairs. I took the umbrellas out, one by one. I drew out a small red parasol. Something bumped to the bottom of the brass can.

  “Frank, poke the flash in here.”

  The stick of light pointed at a blunt automatic, glinting in the dark depths of the can.

  “What the hell?” Higgins inquired.

  “Get a towel from the kitchen.”

  I lifted the gun gingerly with the towel and smelled the muzzle and shook my head and sat down on a step and wrapped it loosely. I got up and Higgins followed me into the drawing room. I stopped humming. I put my jacket on.

  “All right, Frankie. Now how are we going to get this stiff out of here?”

  This time Higgins looked more than startled.

  I put the towel-encased gun gently on a table. I said, “Pull your eyes in. I want that stiff out of here. If you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t get sore, boss.”

  “Then stop staring at me like you think I’m nuts. Those two guys went to the movies for reasons very important to me. And remember to tell Alice, when they all get back, that she never saw a dead body in this house. And when she starts eye-popping at you, maybe you’ll know how irritating it can be. I know what I’m doing. Relax.”

  Higgins grinned, shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

  “How are we going to manage it? I wouldn’t like to use a cab. Those guys see too much and remember too much.”

  “Easy, boss.”

  “Well … don’t tell me you’ve finally come over to my side.”

  “Lay off, for Pete’s sake. What’s the matter with you tonight? You’re sure not yourself.”

  “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m way off center. They got Mike Maine tonight. He was on assignment. I sent him.”

  “What? Mike? Hell. You know who …?”

  “I think so. I’ll square it. But this popped here. So let’s clean up. Let’s get going. What was your idea?”

  “There’s a friend of my uncle’s, a nice old Irishman, owns one of those horse and buggy hansom cabs over near the Plaza. For me, and maybe a sawbuck or so, he’d have himself some coffee and read the funnies for a while. He’ll lend me the horse and buggy and the whip and the stick-up hat. The works.”

  “Swell. Go on, boy. The faster the better.”

  Higgins went away and I used the telephone and I spoke with Lieutena
nt Parker.

  I said, “Louis, I’m tied up uptown. Will you need me for anything special tonight?”

  “No, Pete.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Anything new on it?”

  “No. We thought maybe you had some ideas.”

  “I don’t know a thing. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Not in the morning, you won’t. I sleep mornings.”

  “Will you do this, Louis? Will you drop in at my place tomorrow afternoon. I’ll expect you. We’ll bat it around.”

  “Okay. I’ll be seeing you.”

  “Just a minute. Was his Missus down?”

  “Yes. Identification. We didn’t keep her long.”

  “Right, Louis. See you tomorrow, Lieutenant.”

  I hung up and I took out my little black memo book and I dialed.

  “Mrs. Maine. This is Peter Chambers.”

  The woman’s voice was low and clear. “I called you at your home, Mr. Chambers.”

  “I’m terribly sorry about Mike, Mrs. Maine. I can’t express how sorry.”

  “I know that, sir.”

  “It’s small satisfaction, but I promise you that nobody’s going to get away with that.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Mrs. Maine,” I said softly. “I know you were downtown. I talked with the Lieutenant. Did you mention Mike’s assignment?”

  There was a little silence and a sound like a stifled sob, then she said, “No, sir. I wouldn’t fail Mike. That was one reason I called you. That information should be of help to the police.”

  “We’re not going to mention it, nevertheless. We don’t need help from the police. I’ll handle this myself, and I know just where to look. Please trust me, Mrs. Maine. I’ll need room to move. For the present, we’ll have to inform the police that Mike was not on assignment. You will bear me out, won’t you?”

  “If you think it best,” she said slowly.

  “I do. I sincerely do. And later on, please come down to the office. It is awkward,” I said, and I stopped and words stuck in my throat like one drink too many. “There’s a form of group insurance…. You’ll never be pressed in your life, I promise…. In the meantime, if there’s anything…. Your boys….”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chambers. We need nothing now.”

  I took phone books out from the bottom of the telephone table and I found Blair Curtis’ home number. I called and I got Conrad. Mr. Curtis was spending the week end at Atlantic City. At a place called Lymey’s.

  I called Archie Alexander.

  “Archie,” I said, “I want a check and a follow-through. Four women went up to the Maple House at Tarrytown for the week end. Tamara Gorin, Paula Gorin, Edith Wilde and Dorothy Brewster. And a man, Blair Curtis, went to Lymey’s in Atlantic City. It’s important.”

  “Right, boss. I’ll attend to it. Bye.”

  The knocker knocked and it was Higgins and over his shoulder I saw the horse and hansom cab.

  “Everything okay, boss.”

  He held a tall hat and a long whip in his hand.

  “Fine,” I said. “We’ve got to get a move on, Frank. Get his hat from the closet. Initials E. G.”

  Higgins came back with a blue Homburg.

  Higgins and I went to the body of Eric Gorin and lifted it and Higgins held him and I squeezed the Homburg down on his head. Then I ducked my head under his right arm and Higgins stooped under his left arm and we straightened up, each of us holding one cold hand. Eric Gorin embraced us, his feet inches off the floor.

  At the door, I whispered, “Take a peek outside.”

  We set him down. I leaned against the wall. Eric leaned against me. Higgins went out.

  “It’s all right,” he said in a moment.

  We carried him out quickly.

  Higgins sat on the high outside rear seat of the hansom, the stovepipe set rakishly over one eye. He said, “Giddap” to the horse.

  Inside, in the dark interior, I sat stiffly in one corner and Eric Gorin sat stiffly in the other corner.

  I waited outside while Higgins talked to his uncle’s friend in a cafeteria and arranged the return of the hat and the whip and the horse and buggy.

  “Now what?” Higgins said as I pulled him along rapidly up Fifth Avenue.

  “We’re going back. We’ve got a couple of items to attend to.”

  I had snapped the lock on the way out and the door opened to a twist of the knob. I squeezed the button and shut it on the way back in.

  I gave Frank a cigarette and lit it for him. “Now I want every document in every room. Papers, letters, all the junk. Make a bundle and label each one so I’ll know what’s what. I’ll take one room, you take another, and we’ll work right through the house.”

  We worked steadily for an hour and a half. I got a couple of suitcases from Wesley Gorin’s room and we packed everything in. There wasn’t as much as you’d expect.

  “All right, we’re through here,” I said.

  Downstairs I gathered in the wrapped-up gun.

  We took a cab to the apartment. Higgins helped with the suitcases.

  I unwrapped the gun.

  It was a short .38 blue-black automatic.

  20

  NEXT MORNING I took Gorin’s two bags into the kitchen and emptied them and sipped coffee and smoked and carefully read through everything and when I was through, I had put by twelve pieces of deathless literature, neatly folded and tidily stacked on the kitchen table; twelve letters, with spice from the recent Eric Gorin to Dorothy Brewster, with forbidden love and fresh ardor as freely distributed amongst them as cockroach paste in an infested pantry.

  I went to the bedroom and opened a dresser drawer and looked at guns and rubbed my chin. I was accumulating a nice collection — a rough and ready .45 Colt complete with shoulder holster, a snap-to-attention-and-bow Luger, a natty .38 automatic snug inside a towel. I dropped the letters on top of the artillery.

  I went back and piled all the stuff into the two suitcases and carried them into the living room and called Wesley Gorin.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Mr. Chambers, I did not sleep a wink. Are you sure …? Did you …?”

  I’m sure. I did.”

  “But where — ?”

  “That is my affair,” I interrupted. “Not yours. At the moment, I know as little about its whereabouts as you do. Most probably it has been found, and you’ll be hearing pretty soon. I didn’t call for talking about it. I called to give you instructions.”

  “What?”

  “This. You will go to your brother’s room. He won’t be there. You will knock on Brewster’s door and inquire. You two will talk about it and you will decide that he must have dressed early and gone out. Neither of you is apprehensive. You don’t give it another thought.”

  “Mr. Chambers, do you realize my state of mind?”

  “I certainly do. I’d be worried as hell if I were you.”

  “I am ready to apologize. It may be that you have been correct all along.”

  “That being the case, are you ready at long last to sing a little for me? In confidence?”

  “About what?”

  “You know.”

  I hoped he knew. I didn’t.

  He said, “I’m sure I don’t — ”

  “Skip it.”

  He sounded suddenly frightened. His voice slid down to palsy-walsy. “Will you help?”

  “Will you sing?”

  “There’s nothing — ”

  “Okay. I’ll be in touch with you, and by the way, I took some papers from your home last night.”

  “I know. Professor Brewster was quite upset. I told him you probably had good reason, and that you would explain it when you had the opportunity.”

  “Did you?” I said through my nose. “I should think it is self-explanatory. I have neither the time nor inclination to pry into private lives for no reason, but the police have lots of time and they have a most disconcerting inclination for looking in the most obv
ious places, and they can pluck out trouble and embarrassment no end. Your stuff is in the two suitcases I borrowed from you. You can have them at any time, as soon as cops are out of your hair.”

  “Yes, yes. I understand.”

  “And when the police arrive — then, and not before then, you’ll get in touch with the ladies. And when they get home, they will not only be distressed about the unfortunate occurrence of last night, they will be further distressed to find writings and documents missing. You will complain about it to the police. The police will link it all together and it will complicate it further for them, but it makes no difference. Later on, we’ll have all the stuff turn up in your suitcases, checked somewhere. Good-by, now.”

  I took the two suitcases to a deep closet.

  I had orange juice and more coffee and I called Lolita Blamey.

  “How about a walk and some lunch, beautiful? It’s a lovely day. I’m as low as all get-out.”

  “I’d love to, Peter.”

  “I’ll meet you outside the St. Moritz in twenty minutes.”

  I walked with Blamey along the paths of Central Park and it was a lovely day, indeed, and children ran about underfoot screeching sharply and nurses scolded and people sat about on benches drinking in sun.

  I said, “Let’s get out of here. This damn park gives me the willies.”

  Blamey said, “You have got it bad.”

  We quit the park and we strolled down Fifth Avenue. New hats and new furs and new spring suits strode the bright street and Lolita opened and closed her mouth and made envious noises.

  We went to Childs. I bought an afternoon paper. We sat, side by side, at a wall table. I said, “You know, Blamey lass, you’re getting beautiful all over again.’

  She brought up an indignant arched eyebrow. “All over again, he says.”

  “For a time, there, you looked peaked. It didn’t become you. You’re not the red-lips, no-rouge, wax-face type. Seems to be all gone, which is a fast recovery. No more Grant, babe?”

  She smiled at me, sweetly and gravely. “No, thanks to you. He comes by every night, but he doesn’t talk to me. I pretend not to see him. He doesn’t call me, nor does he call on me, which is all of all right by babe.”

  “How I wish I had the time,” I said and looked at her.

 

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