“I think so too, Elsie. I can’t prove it, but I think so.”
“And when she folded it she had to fold it like this,” Elsie said.
I saw the way she had wadded the garment up. The bullet holes were now all in proper line, but the garment was half-folded, half-rolled and compressed into a small space.
I said, “Would you have folded it that way?”
She shook her head.
I said, “Okay, I think I’ve got the answer. Now, look, Elsie, things are going to get tough.”
“How?” she asked.
I said, “They’re going to get plenty tough. I’m out working on a case. It’s such an important case that I’m not even going to let you know where I am. But you remember to tell everyone that I was in this morning. I didn’t seem in any particular hurry and that I went out to work on a case. You…”
The door burst open. Bertha Cool, standing in the doorway, was sputtering with indignation.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Why,” she said, “that damn bank! I’ll pin their ears down. The — why, what the hell do they think they’re doing?”
“What bank?” I asked. “And what’s it all about?”
“That cheque Claire Bushnell gave us. They have the crust to tell me that they’re going to charge my account with it, that they accepted the cheque only on the contingency of a cheque Claire Bushnell had deposited for collection being good.”
“And that cheque wasn’t good?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Who signed the cheque Claire deposited?”
“They won’t tell.”
I said, “All right, Bertha, I’ll handle it.”
Bertha said, “What the hell does that bank think it’s trying to put across?”
I said, “There’s no harm in trying.”
“Well, they tried the wrong person. They’re barking up the wrong tree. I’ll… I’ll… ”
“You have the money, haven’t you?”
“We did have it.”
“Then what happened?”
She said, “They’re trying to get my bank to draw it out of my account, on the theory that the whole thing was handled as a collection. Can you beat that?”
I said, “Where did you deposit the cheque? Did you go to the bank on which it was drawn and cash it?”
“No, don’t be silly. I went to our bank. I had the bank telephone to find out if the cheque was good. They looked it up and said it was, so I deposited it. On the strength of that telephone call, our bank gave us the credit.”
“And then what?”
“Then this morning, when the cheque went over to clear, the account of Claire Bushnell had been debited on account of a cheque which had been deposited by her being no good. Donald, lover, they can’t do this to us.”
I said, “If you sent the cheque in for collection through our bank, they’re absolutely right. They don’t have to pay it, if there aren’t funds enough to cover.”
“But they said it was good over the telephone.”
“So it was, Saturday morning,” I said. “This is Monday. The situation is different now.”
“Damn!” Bertha said. “That’s hell. We’ve already done all the work for the little shyster.”
I said, “I’ll see what I can do. Don’t let anyone know what I’m working on. Don’t dare to tip anyone off to where I can be found. This thing is loaded with dynamite and I’ve got to be very, very careful.”
“I won’t tell anyone a thing,” Bertha promised. “But you got to get hold of that Bushnell girl. She’s got some money somewhere. She has some rings or something she can pawn. She has this rich aunt. Let her go strike the aunt for some money.”
I smiled and said, “You mean, let the aunt pay for having her boy friend shadowed?”
Bertha said, “I don’t give a damn what you have to do, we want that cheque made good. Two hundred dollars. We can’t let that slip through our fingers!”
I said, “I’ve got to do some looking around before I can help us much on this. You tell everyone that I’m working on a routine job and expect to be back any minute.”
“What are you so fidgety about this morning?”
“I’m not fidgety,” I said, “I’m trying to get this thing lined up before…”
“Before what?” Bertha asked.
“Before the police start tracing the course of that bullet through the suitcase.”
She said, “You’re nuts. That other thing is all washed up except in so far as that one question of insurance is concerned. Don’t fall down on that job, Donald. Eighty grand!”
I said, “Keep your mind fixed on that eighty grand. Bertha, it may help. Remember that’s the main thing, that insurance.”
“Well, don’t let it obscure your mind on this two-hundred dollar cheque,” she said. “We don’t want to let these banks start slipping stuff like that over on us, lover. I’m so mad I could put milk and sugar on tenpenny nails and chew ’em up for breakfast food. You handle, lover, but don’t let that bitch use sex on you.”
“No?” I asked, smiling.
“No,” Bertha screamed. “And don’t joke about it, Donald. You know damn well there ain’t two hundred dollars’ worth of sex in the world!”
And Bertha went out, slamming the door behind her.
“Bertha and Claire Bushnell may have different ideas about the value of sex,” I said.
Elsie Brand lowered her eyes. “And you?”
“I’m not an appraiser,” I said.
Elsie’s eyes remained demurely downcast.
After a moment, she said, “Did you read the papers this morning, Mr. Lam?”
I nodded.
“About the murder of the beautiful blonde, the one who was found choked to death with a stocking?”
“Yes, why?”
She said, “You know, I’ve always wondered how in the world people were ever able to find anyone from the descriptions police give.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why?” she said, “the police have given out a description of the man they’re looking for in connection with that murder. You should read it.”
“Why?”
She laughed, and said, “Honestly, it sounds exactly as though they were describing you! My heavens, when I read the thing I thought something about it was vaguely familiar, and wondered if perhaps I knew this murderer, and then I read it again and saw that it was a description that fits you right down to the ground. And that made me laugh. It just shows how completely unreliable these things are.”
“Darned if it doesn’t,” I told her, and started for the door.
“You’ll be back?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, I’ll be back,” I called over my shoulder.
I took a taxi out to a drug-store in the two thousand block on Veronica Way, then walked back to 1624.
I jabbed on the bell-push, giving the code signal that had been successful yesterday.
Claire Bushnell’s voice came down the speaking tube. “Who is it?”
“Lam,” I said.
“Oh... I can’t see you now.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just getting up. I slept late.”
I said, “Put on a robe and let me in. It’s important.”
She hesitated a moment, then buzzed the electric release.
I opened the door and went up.
Claire Bushnell’s door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and went in.
Her voice called from the bedroom, “Sit down and make yourself at home. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Don’t be so damn modest,” I said. “Put on a robe and come out. I want to talk with you.”
She opened the door a crack. “Who’s being modest?” she demanded. “Hang it, I’m trying to make myself presentable. Don’t you know that a woman looks like hell when she wakes up in the morning?”
“How would I know?” I asked.
“Try taking a correspondence course,” she said, and slammed the bedroom door.