Part 24 (1/2)
The rose scent was much faded by now. That had been... spooky. Okay, it had thrown me, but I could figure that Myrna had again been trying to give comfort, that's why I chose to remain on the office couch rather than retreat to my other bolt-hole under the tiers in the main room. How I'd actually been able to feel her as a physical presence was something else again. Maybe it was because I was on her side of the veil half the time. Dead.
I'd have given a s.h.i.+ver, but wasn't cold. Now that was good news. The radiator had been chugging away for hours; the place must be jungle-hot by now.
I got up to turn it back to normal and listened to familiar activity going on below. Lady Crymsyn was waking, too.
She'd started the process earlier, but for her it took more time. A dame's privilege.
Someone had been and gone. Escott, probably. A stack of newspapers lay on the desk like a no-nonsense message.
He'd have made a connection between my uncharacteristically spending all evening at another nightclub that was now violently minus its star act. Certainly he'd want to know the real story. The papers sure didn't have it.
The evening headlines were big and harsh, their theme murder-suicide. Apparently after Caine's body was found the cops went to question his ex-wife and in turn found her. Facts were thin, with no mention of Evie Montana or gambling debts. There was no official verdict yet, but Jewel was getting the blame for Caine's death.
My heart sank. Jewel deserved better than that. How the h.e.l.l could they be so stupid? If Kroun and I could figure out she'd not killed herself-and how could they screw up so badly about the faked crime scene in Caine's flat? Was this some kind of misdirection to throw off the killer, make him think he was safe?
I phoned the Nightcrawler and got Derner. Mindful that the line could be wired, I was as vague as could be managed. ”How did things go today?”
”A little rough, but it turned out all right,” he cautiously told me. ”Everything's fine here.”
”What about our guest and his pal?”
”Haven't seen either of them today.”
”What about that party I want found?”
”Nothing yet. They're being scarce.”
d.a.m.n. ”Is my car ready?”
”Not yet, Boss.”
”What d'ya mean? It's just changing tires.”
”Uhh, well, the tow truck guy didn't understand exactly and took your car to Cicero.”
I considered that one a minute before asking, in what I was certain was a very reasonable tone: ”Why?”
”Uhh, they're gonna fix it up for you.”
”In what way?”
”Like the way the Caddy's fixed up.”
”What?” I had visions of my humble Buick outfitted with steel armor, thick gla.s.s, and a motor that should be driving a battles.h.i.+p, not a car. ”Call it off! I just want new tires!”
”They're doin' them, too, Boss.”
”Don't give me a 'too,' just get my car ba-what are they doing?”
”Well, seein's how your tires were cut up like that, they're puttin' on the solid rubber kind. No more flats. You'll love 'em.” ”Derner.”
”Yeah, Boss?”
”Get my car back. No fancy stuff like the Caddy, nothing special. Just put on some tires and get it back to me.”
He almost sounded hurt. ”Okay... I'll talk to 'em.”
”Good. If you need me over there tonight, you'll have to send a driver to pick me up.”
”You mean you don't have the Caddy?” His voice went up a little.
”Our guest has it. Seems to like it a lot.”
”Oh, well, that's okay, then. You still want some extra muscle for your place?”
”Yeah, send 'em over. Just find that other party.” As soon as I cradled the receiver the phone rang.
”Fleming!” It was Kroun, sounding cheerful.
Now what? ”Yeah?”
”You finally warmed up yet?”
”Mostly. What's going on?”
”Thought I'd come by your club, see if you turned up anything interesting on that business last night.”
”Not really, no. Been sleeping all day.”
”All day? You lazy b.u.m! Your place open tonight?”
”Yeah, in about half an hour.”
”Save me a good table, I'll be coming by sometime later.”
”No problem. Have you seen Mitch.e.l.l?”
”He's been out gallivanting with old friends. Still is.”
Mitch.e.l.l had friends? ”Shouldn't he be watching your back?”
”I'm safe enough. Besides, he always turns up.” Kroun rang off. Wonderful. Why come and hang around my club?
I'd have to stop giving away booze.
As I walked downstairs Wilton was getting bowls of matches, ashtrays, and c.o.c.ktail napkins ready on the lobby bar.
”Hey, Mr. Fleming. Come in early?”
”Yeah. You seen Bobbi or Charles?”