Erle Gardner - Turn on the Heat

“Why,” she said, with a dismayed look, “I don’t think it’s even occurred to him.”

I looked at my watch, and said, “Well, it’s going to occur to him now. I’m going to get in touch with him. You stay right here.”

“I could telephone him,” she said.

“No,” I said. “That’s exactly what I don’t want you to do. You sit right here and don’t say anything. I’m going up to see Mr. Ellis and have a talk with him. I don’t care how nice he is, but he has a crust not arranging for your protection — after all the help you’ve given him, too.”

She said, “I just can’t believe that I’m in any danger, but I see your point.”

I said, “You sit tight. Don’t do a thing. Promise me you won’t leave this apartment until I get back.”

“I promise,” she said.

I went over to the mirror, straightened my hair with a pocket comb, picked up my hat, and said, “Remember, don’t go out until I get back.”

I went down as far as the corner, went into a drugstore, telephoned police headquarters, and asked for Homicide. After a while, a voice said, in a bored monotone, “Yeah, this is Homicide.”

I said, in a rapid voice, “This is a tip-off. I’d be in a jam if anyone knew I was giving it. Don’t ask my name, and don’t try to trace the call.”

The voice at the other end of the line said, “Just a minute, I’ll get a pencil and paper.”

I said, “Nix on that stuff. I told you not to try to trace the call. Get a load of this right now if you want it. If you don’t, hang up. When your dicks were making that investigation down at the Blue Cave, they learned everything except about the big beefy guy with the close-set, grey eyes and the mole on his right cheek. Orders have been passed around to lay off of him. No one talked about him. If you want to solve that case, you’d better give the girls at the Blue Cave a real shakedown. Ask some specific questions and find out why they were instructed not to say anything about this egg to your investigators.”

I slammed up the telephone and walked out. I waited another half-hour, hanging around where I could watch the entrance of the apartment house, smoking cigarettes and thinking. It began to get dark and the street lights were turned on.

I went back to Marian Dunton’s apartment and knocked excitedly on the door.

She opened it and said, “Gee, I’m glad you’re back! I felt — sort of frightened sitting here alone.”

“You should,” I said. “The D.A.’s office pulled a boner.”

“What do you mean?”

“Letting it out about that man whom you described. He’s suddenly become the important figure in the case. They’ve traced him back to the Blue Cave and found that he was friendly with the girl that was killed.”

She said, “But I didn’t really see him. You made that up.”

“Perhaps you did see him,” I said, “but just didn’t think of it at the time.”

“No. I didn’t see him. Anyway, I don’t remember having seen him.”

“Well, he was there all right, and he’s the important figure in the case. If you ask me, I don’t think that other man you saw had anything to do with it. He didn’t look like a murderer, did he?”

“No. He most certainly didn’t. I told Mr. Ellis about that. He looked very grave and dignified and respectable, but the more I think of it, the more I think he acted frightened.”

“You probably acted frightened yourself,” I said. “Suppose someone had seen you coming out of that apartment?”

“I know,” she said. “I’ve thought of that a lot.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ve seen Mr. Ellis. I put the cards on the table. I told him exactly who I was and what I was doing and what my interest in the case was, and I told him that I was interested in you. He gave me the job of putting you in a safe place.”

“In a safe place?”

“Yes. They don’t think this place is safe. Too many people know of it. They don’t want to put a guard here because that will attract attention. They d prefer to have you go someplace under another name. I told him I’d take care of it.”

“When?” she asked.

“Right away,” I said.

“I’ll put some things in a bag, and—”

“No, you won’t either,” I said. “I’ll come back and get the things. This case is breaking fast. There isn’t a minute to lose.”

“But Donald, surely nothing could happen while you’re here, and—”

“Don’t ever kid yourself it couldn’t,” I said. “Every minute you stay here you’re in danger. I broke a dozen speed laws getting here. Come on. We can pick up stuff later on.” I took her elbow and eased her gently towards the door.

“But, Donald, I don’t see why I can’t get some things together.”

I said, “Please, Marian, have confidence in me. Don’t ask questions and don’t argue. This means a lot to me.”

She said, “All right. Let’s go.”

We went down the stairs, out the back way through the alley, and around to where I had the agency heap parked. It took me a little while to get it started. I drove directly around to my rooming-house.

“You sit here,” I said. “Don’t get out of the car. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I ran in and found Mrs. Eldridge.

“We’re going to need that room again, Mrs. Eldridge,” I said. “My cousin’s boy friend didn’t show up. His boat has been delayed. It won’t be in for two or three days yet.”

“How about the young man’s mother?”

“She’s been staying there for the last day or two, but some relatives came in, and the beds are all taken.”

She said, “All right. She can move back in the same room. How long will you want it?”

“Four or five days.”

“Give me three dollars now,” she said.

I gave it to her and took a receipt. Then I went out and got Marian. I said, “You’re going to stay here again for a while, Marian. I want to be where I can watch you.”

“I feel safe here, Donald. It gets pretty lonely being around a big city where you don’t know anyone.”

“I know,” I said.

She said, “I was hoping that when you got back, I’d see more of you. I was lonely — I missed you lots.”

I said, “I have a little work to do, then we’ll go out and take in a movie, and get some dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Swell,” I said. “Give me about an hour, and I’ll be back. We’ll go out and get something to eat and see a show.”

“How about my things?” she asked.

I said, “I’ll go up and put your things in a suitcase.”

She said, “No, no. Don’t do that, Donald. I’ll do that later on, but there’s some silk pyjamas, and a dressing-gown, and a toothbrush, and a little overnight case with some creams and lotions in it — don’t try to bring anything else, just that. Please, Donald.”

I said, “That’s swell. Give me your key.”

“I want to go with you. I want to pack my things myself.”

“It isn’t safe, Marian. Can’t you understand? I promised Mr. Ellis. He’s holding me responsible. If anything happens, it would get me in Dutch with him.”

“Well, all right,” she said reluctantly.

She gave me the key to her apartment. I said, “In about an hour. So long.”

“So long,” she said.

I said, “Better check up on the towels, and make sure everything is all right.”

She said, “Oh, but it is. I know. I enjoyed being here before. I didn’t want to move out, but Mrs. Cool insisted—”

I said, “Okay. Check up on the towels just the same.”

She went over to the bureau drawer to look for towels, and I slipped her purse under my coat.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you,” I said.

I went back to the agency car, climbed in it, and drove to Marian’s apartment. I let myself in, switched on the lights, and went through her purse. There was a compact, lipstick, thirty-seven dollars in currency, some cards printed in the rough-and-ready style of the country newspaper with pale greyish ink in an old English type: Miss Marian Jean Dunton . There was a lead pencil, a notebook, a handkerchief, and a key ring with some keys on it that I figured opened doors in Oakview.