“Why—how perfectly wonderful. Oh, I’m so glad. Why didn’t you bring him along?”
“He had a date.” Murdock laughed when he remembered Watrous’s truculent good night. “With a bottle of Scotch. He said he was going to get a little drunk and see if he could recover his sanity. And look, kids, I’ve got to run.”
He stood up and Carroll rose with him and said he’d drive him to the hotel. Murdock said no. He said someone had to eat the rest of the sandwiches. Then, not wanting to drag things out, he walked into the hall.
“I guess,” Carroll said softly, “I guess we’re awfully lucky you came, Murdock.”
“Everyone needs a little luck.” Murdock eyed them obliquely. “And you two didn’t help any with your stories. You”—he looked at Carroll—“admitted nothing. And you, Gail, a fine thing—you telling me last night that the man who searched the place and locked you in the closet smelled of cologne. You smelled it on George Damon that day at the Art Mart,” he said accusingly, “and you—”
“I’m sorry.” Gail blushed and dropped her glance. “Maybe it was because that’s what I wanted to think.”
“Me,” Carroll said ruefully, “I was in the middle. I didn’t know from nothing.” He gave Murdock the twisted smile as he held his coat. “Sometimes I think I’m not very bright.”
Murdock started for the door. The weariness was beginning to get him again, and the old wound in his leg was beginning to throb and he was looking forward to just three things: a hot bath, a drink, and a bed. He was considering all three with pleasant anticipation when the door opened and Louise Andrada and Jack Fenner came in.
Louise had her nose in the air and her scarlet mouth was tight and grim. She did not even look at them, nor slow down. She marched past without a word, heels clicking angrily, and started up the stairs. When she disappeared round the landing Murdock said a fast good night and got out.
Jack Fenner examined him. “Why didn’t you introduce me?” he demanded. “To the other little doll. She’s cute. Who is she?”
“What do you care?”
“It’s a question I always ask,” said Fenner imperturbably.
They went down the steps and along the walk. They got into Fenner’s car without a word. When Fenner got it rolling he sighed.
“If they’re going to make a witness of that Louise,” he said, “she’s going to be in town quite a while. I think she likes me. Only she don’t know it yet.”
Murdock wedged himself in the corner of the seat and Fenner said:
“I offered to buy her a drink and she turned me down.… How about you?”
“I’m tired.” Murdock yawned audibly. “I’m whipped,” he said.
“One drink,” Fenner said, and waited. He turned a corner and then turned again into the Avenue. “One drink. In your room. After that I can tuck you in bed.”
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copyright 1944, 1945 by George Harmon Coxe
978-1-4532-3332-0
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