We reached the corner and waited for the signal.
“That’s fine,” Dudd said. “Now, if the accident took place between the third and fourth cars back from the intersection, that would put the car that was struck—”
“Right in front of that theater entrance,” I said. “That’s the way I remember it.”
“And the other car?”
“Well, the other car would naturally have been about fifteen feet farther back, just a car’s length.”
“You heard the noise of the impact?”
“I heard the noise but there were traffic noises and it was surprisingly quiet for an accident. I suppose that was because it wasn’t a head-on collision but one car rammed the tail of another.”
“Did it attract a lot of attention?”
“A few people looked but they kept on going about their business.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, I stopped until I saw the man getting ready to drive away.”
“Why?”
“Why did he drive away?”
“No, why did you stop?”
“I don’t know, just natural curiosity, I guess. And the girl was most attractive. I wondered if she was all right because I saw her head shoot back when the car hit. Evidently her neck was relaxed at the time because her head just snapped back.”
We crossed the street to the right. Dudley Bedford said, “Hell, Lam, you don’t need to walk around the corner with me. Start back on this side of the street. Stop when you get to the theater and we’ll look to see what’s playing.”
I walked across the street with him, then we turned to the right and started back down on the other side of Main Street. We paused at the entrance to the movie theater, looked at the announcements of what was playing, and Bedford said in a quiet voice, “You’ve got the scene of the accident all fixed?”
“Sure,” I told him. “I saw it. It was the afternoon of August thirteenth — about three-thirty.”
Again he clapped me on the back. “Donald,” he said, “you’re a regular guy! All right, we’ll walk down here to the Perkins Hotel, that’s a block and a half. It’s about the best we have in this town... Now, you’ll be getting a call inside of an hour so be available.”
“And after that?” I asked.
“After you get the call,” he said, “you’ll want to go talk with this man.”
“Who’ll be calling? Some insurance company?” I asked innocently. “Or an attorney, or—”
“No,” Bedford said, “you may as well know it now as later. The man who is going to call you will be Carter J. Holgate. He’s a real estate subdivider and he has a partner by the name of Chris Maxton. They have lots of irons in the fire. Holgate and Maxton.”
“Why,” I said, “I’ve seen their name a lot. It’s—”
“Sure. They’re subdividers,” Bedford said. “There’s one of their trucks now. They carry their own lumber, buy it in carload lots.”
I watched as the big truck with the name painted on the side, HOLGATE & MAXTON, rumbled on past.
“They have activities near here?”
“Right now they’re putting on a subdivision about three miles out of Colinda,” Bedford said, putting his hand on my elbow and gently guiding me down the street. “We don’t want to be seen loafing around here, Donald,” he explained.
I walked along with him, taking about a step and a half to his one.
“I’m sorry about that sock in the puss,” he said. “I lost my temper.”
“Forget it.”
“I hope I didn’t hit you too hard.”
“Not too hard,” I said. “I guess I was out for fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“Hell, you weren’t out for more than a minute and a half or two minutes,” Bedford said, “but I sure am sorry about it.”
“That’s all right.”
“I’ll make it up to you some way.”
“Forget it.”
“Now about Doris. I lost my temper but that doesn’t mean I’m building a fence around her. I want you and Doris to be friends. You’re lonely and — well, you just go ahead as soon as you get this chore done. You see all you want of Doris. I’m probably going to be out of town for a few days.”
“How long do I stay at the Perkins Hotel?”
“You stay there until you get a call from Holgate.”
“And then what?”
“Then go out and see him. Talk with him. Tell him about the accident.”
“Is he the one who offered the reward for the witness?”
“Now look, Donald, you’re asking lots of questions. You’re not supposed to ask questions. You’re supposed to tell the facts.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Then you can stay at the hotel tonight and tomorrow— Well, why don’t you run out and see Doris? She likes you and she’s a good kid. She’ll tell you what I want you to do after that — mainly I want you to keep in touch with me — and of course I’m not loaded with dough; but we’ll try and see if we can’t get you something that you can do.”
“That’ll be just dandy,” I told him.
We walked on down the street until we came to the Perkins Hotel.
Bedford handed me a hundred dollars. “All right, Lam,” he said, “you’re on your own. This is some more expense money. You get a hundred more when you finish up. I like you.”
He gave me another pat on the back and swung off down the street.
The hotel clerk looked me over appraisingly. I said, “Good afternoon. My name’s Lam. I came up here on a business deal and it’s taking longer than I anticipated. In fact, I can’t even see my man for a little while. I want a good room with bath. I want to be sure I get any telephone calls that come in, and I haven’t any baggage.”
I pulled some bills out of my pocket.
“Quite all right, Mr. Lam,” he said after a moment’s thoughtful appraisal. “Just sign the register here, please.”
We had an affiliate in San Francisco with whom we exchanged courtesies, so I wrote my name and gave the address of the San Francisco agency. I was shown up to a room, tipped the bellboy, took off my shoes, stretched out on the bed and relaxed.
Within an hour the phone rang.
I answered it.
A man’s voice said, “Mr. Lam?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m Carter Holgate of Holgate and Maxton.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Holgate.”
“I understand you saw an accident at Seventh and Main Streets on the afternoon of August thirteenth.”
“Why, that’s right, Mr. Holgate. I did, yes, but I don’t know how you found out about—”
“I’d like to talk with you.”
“Well, I’ll be here—”
“Look, Mr. Lam, I can’t get away at the present time, but I’ll send a car in for you. You can come out here for a few minutes and then I’ll deliver you back to your hotel. How’s that?”
“That’ll be fine,” I said.
“All right. A car will be there within twenty minutes, perhaps fifteen.”
“I’ll be waiting in the lobby,” I said. “Can you describe the man who’ll be driving it?”
“It won’t be a man, it’ll be a woman, my secretary,” Holgate said. “Her name’s Lorraine Robbins. She’s a redhead about... well, I’d better not say anything about age because she’s sitting across the desk from me.”
I looked at my watch and said, “In exactly fifteen minutes I’ll be standing in front of the door of the hotel on Main Street. I’ll stay there until she comes.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “Remember the name. Lorraine Robbins.”
“I’ll remember.”
I freshened up, waited ten minutes, took the elevator down to the lobby, nodded to the clerk, walked out and started briskly down the street. Then, when it had registered in the clerk’s mind that I was going somewhere in a hurry, I turned and sauntered back to stand by the door of the hotel, just to one side of the revolving door so that the clerk couldn’t see me.