Джеймс Чейз - Not Safe to Be Free [= The Case of the Strangled Starlet]

The lobby was still crowded. People were standing about discussing the film they had just seen. The clock over the reception desk showed that the time was now twenty minutes to two.

As Jay made his way through the crowd towards the exit, he felt a hand on his arm and he looked quickly around, fear gripping him.

Harry Stone, his father’s business manager, massive and perspiring in his tuxedo, grinned at him.

“Hey there, son,” he said. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“That’s my business,” Jay said curtly and pulling free, he continued on his way towards the revolving doors, leaving Stone staring blankly after him.

Inspector Devereaux pushed aside his pile of notes and reached for a cigarette.

Guidet, hot and tired, reclined in an easy chair and watched his chief. He wished he could go to bed, but he knew the Inspector wouldn’t give up now until he had decided on a new course of action.

“As it isn’t Kerr,” Devereaux said, leaning back in his chair and blowing a thin trail of smoke up to the ceiling, “we have to decide who is our next likely suspect. I have only one other man on my list who could have done it and that’s Jay Delaney.”

Guidet lifted his shoulders.

“Is it likely? Why should a boy like that want to kill the girl? Anyway, what makes you think he’s even a suspect?”

Devereaux frowned.

“There’s something very odd about him.” He leaned forward to flick ash off his cigarette. “He was the last to talk to the girl as far as we know. He was in the suite when she was up on the second floor. He had the opportunity.”

“You’ll have to watch your step,” Guidet said. “His father’s rich and has a lot of influence. Besides, Madame Delaney was in the suite at the time the girl was killed.”

Devereaux began poking holes in the blotter with a paperknife.

“I know and that bothers me.” He scowled at the blotter. “Then who could have done it? Some unknown who was up there who met the girl and killed her for no reason at all? I can’t accept that. I’m now almost positive the girl wasn’t killed in suite 30. I think it was faked to make us believe that’s where she was killed, as Kerr’s death was faked to make us believe he killed her. I’m sure of it. It’s a feeling I have.”

Guidet struggled with a yawn.

“It’s not feelings, Inspector, we have to work on: it’s evidence.”

Devereaux nodded.

“Yes. Well, let’s see if we can get some evidence. Who was on duty watching the second floor during the day?”

Guidet thought for a moment.

“Sergeant Humbert.”

“Is he still on duty?”

“I doubt it, but I’ll see.”

“If he isn’t get him here and get Lemont down here too.”

While Devereaux waited, he again went through his notes. He saw as he read his neat handwriting that he had been immediately suspicious of Jay Delaney once he had discovered him in the apparent lie about the necklace. Then his suspicions had subsided when he had had Jay’s obvious and very simple explanation.

I never said she was wearing the necklace. I described it because it happened to fall out of her beach bag while we were talking and I picked it up and returned it to her .

An obvious explanation, but at the same time it could have been a very obvious lie: a lie calculated to cut the ground from under the Inspector’s feet, which it had done.

Suppose it had been a lie?

Then Delaney was obviously suspect No. 1.

It wasn’t until after one that Guidet was able to bring both Sergeant Humbert and Detective Lemont into Devereaux’s office and it was at that moment, as they sat down in easy chairs, facing the Inspector that, upstairs, Jay was making his attempt on Sophia’s life.

Devereaux looked at Humbert, a fat, solid man with a sun-tanned face and clear, lively blue eyes.

“Do you know Floyd Delaney’s son by sight?” Devereaux asked.

Humbert nodded.

“Yes, Inspector. Before this happened, I was on duty organizing the crowd outside the hotel. I got to know the various film people and I know him by sight very well.”

“During the day, did you see him leave and later return to his suite?”

“Yes, Inspector.”

“Did he visit any of the other suites while you were on duty?”

Humbert, after thinking for a moment, nodded.

“Yes. A little after ten o’clock he visited suite 30. The occupier seemed to be a friend of his. They talked for some minutes, then Delaney left. He went to his suite, then came out shortly with swimming trunks and took the elevator to the ground floor.”

Devereaux and Guidet exchanged glances. Both of them were now a little tense.

“You are quite sure he went into suite 30?”

“Absolutely sure, Inspector. I logged it in my notebook.”

“This took place before we searched the suites?”

“That is correct.”

Devereaux nodded, then said: “All right. You can go off duty now.”

When Humbert had gone, Devereaux turned to Lemont.

“Do you know Jay Delaney?”

“No, Inspector, I can’t say I do.”

“He is about twenty-one or — two, good-looking, dark, slightly below average height and wears dark glasses,” Devereaux said. “While you were watching the Beau Rivage hotel did you see a man to match this description go into the hotel either alone or with a woman?”

Lemont wrinkled his sweating forehead, then shook his head.

“No, Inspector, I can’t say I did. Two or three of the men who entered the hotel were screened by the women they were with. I was watching for Kerr and I was paying more attention to those who came out of the hotel rather than those who went in.”

Devereaux nodded.

“Yes. Well, all right. You get off.”

When Lemont had gone, Devereaux said to Guidet: “At least we know Jay Delaney had the opportunity of planting the bead and taking the curtain cord from suite 30. I’m not saying he did it, but he could have done.”

Guidet moved uneasily.

“Aren’t we wasting time, Inspector? Madame Delaney was with him at the time of the girl’s murder. You’re not suggesting she had anything to do with it, are you? Besides, what possible motive could a young fellow... ?”

Devereaux waved him to silence. He was staring fixedly at the telephone that stood on the desk.

“Now, wait a moment,” he said, his voice sharp with excitement. “I believe we can settle this. When young Delaney came in here, he asked me if he could use the telephone. Maybe he’s left his prints on it. We know the print we are looking for. Get Leroy here and get him fast!”

The snap in Devereaux’s voice brought Guidet hurriedly to his feet and he went out of the office.

Devereaux lit another cigarette and sank lower into his chair. His legs ached and his body longed for sleep, but his mind was alert enough.

There was some delay in bringing Leroy, the finger-print expert, from the Beau Rivage hotel where he was still working and it was during this delay that Jay slipped out of the hotel, unseen by the hotel staff, who were at this time fully occupied in handing out keys and taking orders for breakfast. The only man who noticed him leave was Harry Stone and he, seeing the fishing bag, assumed Jay was off on a night’s fishing expedition.

It was a little after two o’clock in the morning that Guidet and Leroy came into the office where Devereaux waited patiently.

As soon as Devereaux saw Leroy, he pointed to the telephone.

“Check that. I’m hoping to find a print on it that matches the one you found on the bead and also on the electric lamp bulb at the Beau Rivage.”

Leroy looked a little startled, but he didn’t say anything. He opened his kit and set to work. In five minutes he gave a sudden little grunt, a sound he always made when he had done a satisfactory job.