No Business of Mine

“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 boyfriend 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 see 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.”

I said I’d see her in a day or so, steered her to the door, opened it.

Corridan was standing outside, his hand raised to knock. He gave Crystal a surprised, rather shocked look, stood aside.

Crystal slid past him, hurried down the corridor without a backward glance.

“Hullo,” I said. “I thought I told the Desk to tell you I was coming down.”

He wandered in, closed the door. “Oh, I didn’t want to bother you to do that,” he said. “I hope I’m not intruding.” He gave me the nearest he could come to in the leer line. “Friend of yours?”

“Certainly not,” I said. “That’s the floor waiter’s daughter. She was cleaning the bath.”

He nodded, roamed around the room. “I’ve seen her at the Blue Club on my one and only official visit, I believe, or am I mistaken?”

“At times you are quite observant,” I said, tartly.

“Oh, I notice blondes,” he returned with a dour smile. “Does that mean you were at the club tonight?”

“Fortunately I don’t yet have to account to you for my actions, motives or movements,” I returned, eyeing him. “But if you’re bursting with curiosity I don’t mind admitting I was there. Furthermore, I did bring the blonde back with me. I had some silk stockings, and as I had no one to give them to, I thought she might have them. There was nothing immoral about the transaction, although, at a later date, I hope something along those lines may be arranged. Satisfied?”

He didn’t appear to be listening.

“I dropped in as I was passing because I thought you’d be interested to hear the coroner’s verdict on Anne Scott,” he said, pausing to look out of the uncurtained windowed.

“I can guess what it was,” I returned. “Suicide while the balance of her mind was disturbed. Tell me, have you satisfied yourself that Netta had a sister?”

He looked at me, his eyelids drooped. “What a rum chap you are,” he said. “Of course I satisfied myself there is such a person as Anne Scott and she was Netta’s sister. What kind of a policeman do you think I am? You’ll find the record in Somerset House if you feel like checking it.”

“Okay,” I said, shrugging. “I wanted to see how thorough you’ve been. How about Netta’s verdict?”

He shrugged. “The body will have to be found first. We’re looking for it.”

“I see the Press haven’t got the story.”

Corridan scowled. “And they’re not having it,” he said grimly. “As it is the Chief is raising blue murder. The less publicity at this stage the better. We can rely on you to say nothing I hope?”

I grinned. “Sure,” I said, “I’ll keep your guilty secret. Nothing more to tell me?”

He shook his head. “Not just yet,” he returned, “but I’ll keep you in the picture.” He moved to the door. “Come down and have a drink?”

“I’m coming down, but I can’t stop for a drink. I have something important to do.”

“It’s nearly eleven o’clock,” Corridan said, raising his eyebrows. “Come on, and don’t be unsociable.”

“Sorry, my work is too urgent,” I said, walking with him to the elevator.

“By the way,” he said casually, as we waited for the elevator to come from the ground floor. “You and Netta were lovers at one time, weren’t you?”

I remembered what Littlejohns had said, grinned to myself.

“Not really,” I returned. “Just a boy and a girl romance.”

He nodded, stepped into the elevator and we rode down in silence.

“Do change your mind,” he said when we reached the lobby.

“Sorry,” I said, shaking hands. “But I’ve got to get along. So long. Have a drink on me.”