Jail Bait

This was no traditional morning office of the law, with its scarred golden oak, its yellowed pictures of the pistol team. This was a big room, done in pale, efficient green with many gray steel desks in military array, with banks of gray filing cabinets, with men who worked at the desks and used the telephone a great deal, with girls who walked briskly and found things in files.

Jane and Howard had to wait nearly an hour in the small fenced-off waiting room until a girl came and got them and took them to Sergeant Dolan’s desk somewhere in the middle of the big room. Two chairs had been placed near his desk. They sat down at Dolan’s terse invitation. Jane felt humble and a bit silly.

Dolan hung up the phone and smiled at them. “How is it going, kids? Tired of making statements?”

“Do you need more!” Jane exclaimed.

“No. We got all we need now. I could be official and mysterious and tell you to read all about it in the papers.”

“Please don’t!” she said.

“Well, it goes this way. We knew the killing was clean and professional, and we suspected that the body was that of a known criminal. We had that hunch. We didn’t know him, so he was from out of town. I talked to Locatta and got him to agree to go along with playing it stupid. Girl can identify killer. All that. I felt I could do it because I’ve got good men and I knew I could cover you every minute of the day. You were bait. You even spotted one of them outside your apartment. So imagine how I felt when you wiggled off the hook. That was a neat trick, that shoe-store stunt, and on account of you, three good men took a peeling they’ll never forget.”

“But how did they find me? Not your men. Those others.”

“They had a man at the hospital to pick you up if you came back. You lost them the same time you lost my people. After Dave Miles saw Howard here, the man wondered if Dave came from you. So he followed him back to the Farrington and asked some casual questions at the desk and got the right answers. Then they moved in on you.”

“And then you showed up.”

“Only because your friend Dave is a nice guy and has some confidence in us. On the way to his date he took the time to stop and phone us and tell us where you were. He was afraid you wouldn’t phone. Fortunately we sent a man in first to look around. He spotted something funny going on. He came out and gave me the word and I put in the call and got help. We were about to come in after you.”

“I guess I was pretty stupid,” Jane said.

“You got your name in the papers,” Howard said.

“Please! Sergeant, what about that mandolin?”

Dolan grinned. “It’s just a real good mandolin.”

“Please.”

“Fredmans had the entire loot from the robbery in Savannah. Quarter of a million dollars’ worth of flawless blue-white diamonds in the right sizes to peddle — from one-half to two carats. He didn’t like the size of his cut. He knew he couldn’t hope to get away with the whole thing. He wanted to bargain. So he bought a used mandolin, poured hot melted wax through that hole under the strings where it would run down and solidify around the diamonds he had dropped in there, so they wouldn’t rattle. Then he hocked the mandolin. Safest place he could think of. Then he got hold of his group and told them where he was and asked them to come around and talk business. He knew all of a sudden they were going to be too tough. He planted the pawn ticket in your purse. Look, kids, I got things to do. Thanks for your co-operation.”

Howard touched the top of his head gingerly. “You’re welcome.”

They said good-bye to Dolan. They walked on out through the big room and down the long corridor. This was a well-washed day, bright and new and promising. She held his arm tight as they walked down the corridor.

“Sure,” she said, “I had my name in the paper.”

“Want it in again?”

“Mmmmm. When I get married.”

“Figuring on getting married soon?”

“Mmmm.”

“I hear it’s kind of like a trap. You know — kids, cleaning, drudgery. A real trap.”

“You know something?”

“What, darling?”

“I could be trapped.”

They walked toward the sunshine at the end of the corridor. She smiled up at him. They walked in step.

“Howard,” she said, making a serious mouth, “honestly that’s all I want. Really and truly.”

“I believe you. No more headlines.”

“No thanks.”

They started down the steps. She looked ahead and gasped and stopped and grabbed his arm.

“What’s wrong, dear? What’s the matter?”

She relaxed and sighed heavily. “Come on. You’ll soon find out.”

They walked toward his car parked diagonally at the curb, toward the oddly boyish-looking Locatta who leaned against the car, and smiled as he watched them approach.