James Chase - No Business Of Mine

you,” she went on, nibbled the lobe of my ear with her sharp little

teeth.

I pushed her off, got up and plumped her in the chair.

“Stay still and behave,” I said. “I want to talk to you.”

“Talk away. I’ll listen,” she said, hugging her knees and peering at

me over the top of them with her big, dizzy blue eyes.

“Have you ever seen in the club a young guy, slight, dark, sal ow

complexion, wears a grey greasy looking hat, clean shaven, about

twenty, who drives that Standard I pointed out to you?” I asked.

“Oh, you mean Frankie,” Crystal said at once. “He’s a horrible boy.

None of the girls like him.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said, called, “Come in,” as the waiter

tapped, and received the drinks with as much nonchalance as I could

muster. When he had gone, I went on, “What does he do?”

“Frankie?” Crystal raised her shapely shoulders. “He hangs

around. I suppose he does all Bradley’s dirty work. He drives the car,

runs errands-those kind of things. Why are you interested?”

“It’d take too long to tell you,” I said, putting her off. “You liked

Netta Scott, didn’t you?”

“I don’t like women,” Crystal said promptly. “I’m too busy trying

to like men. I’m mad about men. Did you know my mother was

frightened by a wrestler just before I was born?”

“I know. Sam told me.”

“It’s had ever such a funny effect on me . . .” Crystal began, but I

interrupted.

“Never mind about that,” I said hastily. “Let’s talk about Netta.

Sam tells me you two got on together.”

“I suppose we did,” Crystal said indifferently. “She was a bit odd,

but she didn’t try to steal my men, and I didn’t want Jack Bradley or

her other boys, so we didn’t ever come to blows.”

“Were you surprised when you heard what had happened to her?“

“I was stricken in a heap. I was sure she’d never have done an

awful thing like that. It just shows, doesn’t it? My father always says . .

.”

“And we’ll leave your father out of this conversation too,” I said.

“Will you try to remember that? Wrestlers and your father-out! Tell

me something about Netta. Did you ever meet her sister?”

Crystal frowned. “I didn’t know she had a sister.”

“She never mentioned one?”

“Oh, no, but then she might have and I mightn’t have listened.

You see, if she had said she had a brother . . .”

“Yes, yes, I can understand that, but we’re talking about her

sister. All right. You didn’t know she had a sister. Did she ever speak

about going to a village in Sussex cal ed Lakeham.”

“No. Lakeham? I don’t know the place.”

“Don’t let that worry you,” I said kindly, “There must be a whale

of a lot of other places you don’t know either. Tell me something else.

You’ll be able to answer this one. Did she have a regular boy friend

while you knew her?”

“Oh, yes,” Crystal said, perking up. “She did have someone, but

she never talked about him. In fact, she was quite secretive about

him. I saw him twice, although Netta didn’t know. I was on the look-

out for him. The first time I saw him he was driving a marvellous

black-and-yellow Bentley. He picked Netta up outside the club.” She

sighed. “I wish one of my boys had a Bentley.”

“What’s this guy like?” I asked, interested.

She shook her head. “I never once saw his face. He was big` tall

and hefty. Both times I saw him it was dark and he was in the car.”

“Could it be anyone in the club, do you think?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no, I know it wasn’t.”

I suddenly thought of Julius Cole. He was big and hefty. He had

been the one who had identified the dead girl as Netta. He had a flat

below Netta’s. He might qualify quite easily.

“Ever heard of a man named Julius Cole?” I asked.

She shook her head. “`You know, I didn’t expect this,” she said a

little peevishly. “I thought we were going to have some ruinous fun.

I’m beginning to think you’re more interested in your silly old

questions than in ruining me.”

“Smart girl,” I said, grinning at her. “I am. You’re not the ruining

type. Besides I’m asking these questions for a purpose. I don’t think

Netta s dead. If she is dead, then she didn’t commit suicide, she was

murdered.”

Crystal stared at me. “I know I’m a little dumb,” she said, after a

moment’s hesitation, “but I can’t be expected to understand what

you’ve just said, can I; or can I?”

“No, you can’t,” I agreed. “Would you like to know more about it?

Would you like also to play at being a lady detective?”

“My father says detectives are common,” Crystal returned, her

eyes opening wide. “They listen at keyholes, and my father says that’s

common. I used to listen at keyholes when I was young; I suppose

that’s why he said it.”

“Isn’t it possible to leave your father out of this conversation?” I

pleaded. “He seems always to be turning up.”

“He always is. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t burst in here

and hit you over the head with a stuffed mongoose.”

I sighed. “I’ll chance it. Shall we get back to the original question?

Do we or do we not work on this puzzle?”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about,” she said plaintively.

I decided that if I could make her understand, it might be useful to

have her planted in the club to keep me informed of what was going

on there. She might pick up some useful information which might give

me the lead I was looking for. I was now certain that the Blue Club was

tied up in some way with the puzzle of the missing bodies.

So with infinite patience I told her the whole story. She sat staring

at me, her mouth a little open, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“Well, now,” I concluded, “you know as much about this business

as I do. Bradley is tied in somehow. This guy Frankie is in it, too. Julius

Cole might be Netta’s boy friend with the Bentley. Mrs. Brambee isn’t

what she seems. Don’t you see, there are a lot of angles. Some of

these angles might be cleared up if you keep your eyes and ears open.

All you have to do is to listen and watch. Try to find out why Mrs.

Brambee sees Bradley every week. If I knew that I might have the

answer to one of my problems. Will you do it?”

She sighed. “Oh, well, I suppose so. You’ll argue me into it in the

long run if I do say no. All right, I’ll do it, but don’t expect too much,

will you?”

I patted her hand. “Do your best, and I’ll not ask more than that.”

The telephone rang shrilly. I answered it. The Inquiry Desk said

Inspector Corridan was asking for me.

“Tell him I’ll be right down,” I said, hung up.

“Well!” Crystal exclaimed. “I suppose now you’re going to get rid

of me. And I thought you were going to show me your etchings.”

“You’re not the first girl who’s been disappointed,” I said. “Now

slip away like a startled mouse. Scotland Yard is downstairs and I don’t

want him to see you.”

“Goodness!” she exclaimed, jumping up. “I don’t want to s e him

either.” She grabbed up her precious nylons, slipped on her wrap,

sped to the door. Then she paused, rushed back, flung her arms

around my neck, kissed me. “Thanks again for the lovely stockings. I

like you. Don’t let’s be so stuffy the next time we meet.”