No Business of Mine

“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 called 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 boyfriend 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’t 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.