“And she put the second fake tiara on Louise’s head as a pointer toward Marty Estell?” the lieutenant asked.
“As a second bet maybe,” I said. “But that tiara was pointing right at Byers. Patty figured you’d be convinced that it was Louise who had stolen the tiara, double-crossed her partner with a second fake, and had been murdered for her trouble.”
“Lieutenant,” Elmo said frostily, “you surely don’t expect me to sit here and calmly listen to these monstrous allegations against my own integrity?”
“You’ll listen to Boyd until he’s finished,” Schell said curtly. “What else, Boyd?”
“Elmo yelled loud and long the insurance company wasn’t going to pay the claim,” I went on. “But his lawyer told him they’d pay from the very beginning—it was just a smoke screen. Asking your advice on a private eye was another smoke screen. As soon as he decently could, he told me the insurance company was paying the claim after all—his lawyer had somehow come up with a gimmick, so his deal with me was off. No five grand if I found the tiara—I could keep the grand he’d already paid me.”
“We can check all this later,” Schell said abruptly. “Where’s the real tiara?—that’s what I want to know.” “I figure it’s where Marty Estell was,” I told him.
He gaped at me. “Marty’s in the morgue!”
“The same theory applies,” I added quickly. “Where was the safest place for Marty to hole up—the place that nobody would think of looking? Back in Patty La-mont’s apartment.”
“The tiara’s not there,” Schell said in a defeated voice. “We ripped the whole place apart.”
“It’s the principle, Lieutenant,” I reminded him. “If you were Mr. Elmo now, and you had a hot tiara to hide someplace nobody would ever dream of searching for it— where would you put it?”
Schell looked at me for about five seconds, then nodded slowly. “Mr. Elmo,” he said formally, “I’d like to take a look inside your vault.”
The jeweler seemed to shrink suddenly to an even smaller size. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses slowly and put them on the desk, then rubbed his eyes with trembling fingers.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s there. Boyd was right about the deal Byers suggested to me—and I took it. I was desperate—not that it’s any excuse of course.”
“You want to come and get it for us now, Mr. Elmo?” Schell suggested firmly.
“Of course,” he nodded. “I can see I sadly underestimated you, Mr. Boyd.”
“It was that crack about having reservations as to whether you'd received sufficient services for that thousand dollars,” I told him sincerely. “It worried me—a dissatisfied client is always bad for business.”
Elmo smiled bleakly. “I can see 1 should have kept my big mouth shut—as you might put it, Mr. Boyd.” “I’m glad you didn’t,” I said. “Otherwise I probably never would have gotten your tiara back for you.”
Schell got onto his feet and gestured to Elmo. “Let’s go open that vault,” he said crisply.
The little man got out of his chair and made his way around the desk, and I watched the two of them walk toward the vault. Elmo wore elevator shoes, I noticed, and they brought him to somewhere real close to five feet. I figured Schell could have the rest of it, and if I moved real quick right now I could be out of town before he’d even had time to notice.
My fast getaway got sabotaged almost before it got started. I stopped beside the desk of a redhead who was studiously ignoring me.
“School’s out, honey,” I said. “Everybody go home.” “Are you talking to me?” she said in a frigid voice. “It’s a long story, but it’s true,” I said in a kindly voice. “Your Mr. Elmo stole his own tiarra and the Lieutenant’s on his way now to get it out of the vault. I don’t think Mr. Elmo will be back for some time.”
Her eyes widened as she lifted her head and looked at me. “Is that true, Danny? You wouldn’t kid me about something like that, would you?”
“It’s true,” I told her. “You hear about Patty?” “Yes,” she said, nodding gravely. “Was that what fouled up our date last night?”
“I had a long inner struggle,” I said modestly, “but finally I had to give in—catching a murderess and a murderer was just a shade more important than keeping that date with you.”
She thought about it for a while. “I’d like to believe that,” she said finally. The great thaw had hit. The icicles were gone from her voice, and now her tawny eyes radiated awarmth that was almost fiery even.
“Poor Danny,” she said suddenly. “What bad luck— finding out your client was the thief!”
“I had another client,” I said smugly, “and he paid off like real handsomely.”
I showed her Rutter’s check for five grand and her eyes widened again. “Danny! That’s an enormous amount of money.”
“Big enough for a vacation,” I said casually. “I was thinking of Acapulco maybe—the Bahamas—you decide.”
“I couldn’t do that,” she said wistfully. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to choose where you spend your vacation.”
“Who’s talking about my vacation?” I asked sharply. “I’m talking about our vacation!”
The gleam in her eyes was suddenly subdued by a caution signal. “Danny Boyd,” she said slowly, “are you making me some kind of proposition?”
“What else?” I said smoothly. “You name it—we go there!”
“Somewhere along the line there has to be a price tag,” she said regretfully, it seemed to me.
“I was thinking of someplace where they have rum-based drinks superior to the Luau Bar,” I admitted.
I watched in silent fascination while maybe a dozen different emotions played tag back and forward across her face. Finally, a steady, resolute determination won out over all the others, and she sat up straight, squaring her shoulders.
“I’ve made up my mind, Danny,” she said in a taut voice.
“Okay, honey,” I said with genuine regret. “It’s your life and you got the right to make your decisions.”
“All my life I’ve prided myself on being alert,” she said, ignoring my comments completely. “The straight pass, the underhand, the clandestine—I could pick ’em all from way back.”
“It must be something of a record for a redhead stacked the way you’re stacked honey,” I said dismally.
“And where has it gotten me?” she asked in fierce rhetoric. “No place! Danny Boyd, we’ll go to the Bahamas!” “Well, I tried,” I said. “It’s too bad you—what?”
She smiled at me triumphantly. “We are going to the Bahamas. I’ll have a bag packed in an hour! I’ve spent all my life fending off guys like you and where has it gotten me!—a lousy job in a crummy jewelry store where the boss turns out to be a thief! So now I’m going to find out what happens to a girl when she doesn’t resist a pass!”
“I can t^ll you right now, honey,” I said truthfully. “But I figure on saving it for the Bahamas!”