I thought I was helping him.”
Liddell drained his glass, set it on the table. “He doesn’t need any help now.”
“You’ve got to find out who did it, Liddell.”
“Why should I? My job was to find the kid. I’ve found him. As soon as I find Richards I’m bowing out of this mess.”
“Look, Liddell. I know you think I’m pretty cheap. Maybe I am. Or maybe it’s just that I didn’t care any more.” She put her hand on his knee. “Maybe now that I’ve met you and remember that there are men like you, maybe it makes a difference.”
“Does it?”
“I’ll be around. We can talk about it then.”
“Okay. If you really want me to work on it, there are a couple of things I’ve got to know. You say Richards knew the kid was in to Yale Stanley for a bundle?”
The blonde nodded.
“Why didn’t he bail him out instead of going through this whole rigamarole of getting you married off to him?”
“He didn’t want Stanley to have the satisfaction of getting the money. Richards was barred from every spot in town because years ago he welshed on a gambling debt in one of the Syndicate spots. They persuaded him to pay and he’s never forgiven them. Stanley in particular.”
“Why didn’t he pay before they persuaded him?”
The blonde laughed humorlessly. “He was broke.”
“Richards broke?”
“Flat. He’s been living on his nerve for years.” She looked around the mean little apartment with a grimace. “You think we’ve been holing up in this because we likeslumming?”
“Where’d he get the dough to square his own paper?”
Margy shrugged.
“He been tapping the kid’s estate?” Liddell demanded.
“I don’t know. All I do know is that he went through his own money, and he’s in hock up to his neck.” The sea-green eyes clouded with anger. “Hell, he’s even a month behind on the rent for this flea trap.”
Liddell dragged a worn wallet from his breast pocket, counted out fifty in small bills. “This help, baby?” He laid the bills on the coffee table next to the girl’s glass.
“You don’t have to do that, Liddell,” she told him. “It’ll work out.” She pushed the bills back regretfully.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not out of my pocket. It’ll show up on the bill. Expenses, you know.” He left the bills on the table, picked up his drink. “Somebody’ll pay the tab. If it isn’t Richards, it’ll be the kid’s estate. Take it.”
The blonde looked at the bills with furrowed brows and caught her lower lip between her teeth. Finally, she reached out, picked up the bills. “Okay, Santa Claus. We’ll consider it a loan.” She leaned back, studied Liddell from half-closed eyes. “Richards, Shad, Yale Stanley, Terry Devine — all heels. How come you’re so nice, Liddell?”
“I owe it all to Dale Carnegie. Then again, maybe I have a soft spot in my heart toward Chenango County.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Or maybe you figured I could give you more for your fifty bucks? Maybe even tell you where Richards is.”
“Can you?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t think you could. Besides, you’re a suspicious little character.”
Margy caught her glass, swirled the cognac over the ice. “You said you were coming here half for business, half for pleasure. Is the business half over?”
Liddell nodded.
“Good. I hate business.” The blonde sighed.
Liddell moved to the edge of the couch so she could puther feet up. She looked at her watch, made a face. “Have to be getting in to work pretty soon.” She looked up at him.
“Wouldn’t it pay you to be a little late today, baby?”
She considered, pursed her lips humorously. “It might.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
L ATE THAT AFTERNOON Johnny Liddell walked into Police Headquarters at Las Caminas and told the uniformed sergeant behind the desk that he wanted to see Inspector Devlin in Homicide. The sergeant countered with the probability that Devlin was too busy to be disturbed,
Liddell drained his glass, set it on the table. “He doesn’t need any help now.”
“You’ve got to find out who did it, Liddell.”
“Why should I? My job was to find the kid. I’ve found him. As soon as I find Richards I’m bowing out of this mess.”
“Look, Liddell. I know you think I’m pretty cheap. Maybe I am. Or maybe it’s just that I didn’t care any more.” She put her hand on his knee. “Maybe now that I’ve met you and remember that there are men like you, maybe it makes a difference.”
“Does it?”
“I’ll be around. We can talk about it then.”
“Okay. If you really want me to work on it, there are a couple of things I’ve got to know. You say Richards knew the kid was in to Yale Stanley for a bundle?”
The blonde nodded.
“Why didn’t he bail him out instead of going through this whole rigamarole of getting you married off to him?”
“He didn’t want Stanley to have the satisfaction of getting the money. Richards was barred from every spot in town because years ago he welshed on a gambling debt in one of the Syndicate spots. They persuaded him to pay and he’s never forgiven them. Stanley in particular.”
“Why didn’t he pay before they persuaded him?”
The blonde laughed humorlessly. “He was broke.”
“Richards broke?”
“Flat. He’s been living on his nerve for years.” She looked around the mean little apartment with a grimace. “You think we’ve been holing up in this because we likeslumming?”
“Where’d he get the dough to square his own paper?”
Margy shrugged.
“He been tapping the kid’s estate?” Liddell demanded.
“I don’t know. All I do know is that he went through his own money, and he’s in hock up to his neck.” The sea-green eyes clouded with anger. “Hell, he’s even a month behind on the rent for this flea trap.”
Liddell dragged a worn wallet from his breast pocket, counted out fifty in small bills. “This help, baby?” He laid the bills on the coffee table next to the girl’s glass.
“You don’t have to do that, Liddell,” she told him. “It’ll work out.” She pushed the bills back regretfully.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not out of my pocket. It’ll show up on the bill. Expenses, you know.” He left the bills on the table, picked up his drink. “Somebody’ll pay the tab. If it isn’t Richards, it’ll be the kid’s estate. Take it.”
The blonde looked at the bills with furrowed brows and caught her lower lip between her teeth. Finally, she reached out, picked up the bills. “Okay, Santa Claus. We’ll consider it a loan.” She leaned back, studied Liddell from half-closed eyes. “Richards, Shad, Yale Stanley, Terry Devine — all heels. How come you’re so nice, Liddell?”
“I owe it all to Dale Carnegie. Then again, maybe I have a soft spot in my heart toward Chenango County.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Or maybe you figured I could give you more for your fifty bucks? Maybe even tell you where Richards is.”
“Can you?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t think you could. Besides, you’re a suspicious little character.”
Margy caught her glass, swirled the cognac over the ice. “You said you were coming here half for business, half for pleasure. Is the business half over?”
Liddell nodded.
“Good. I hate business.” The blonde sighed.
Liddell moved to the edge of the couch so she could puther feet up. She looked at her watch, made a face. “Have to be getting in to work pretty soon.” She looked up at him.
“Wouldn’t it pay you to be a little late today, baby?”
She considered, pursed her lips humorously. “It might.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
L ATE THAT AFTERNOON Johnny Liddell walked into Police Headquarters at Las Caminas and told the uniformed sergeant behind the desk that he wanted to see Inspector Devlin in Homicide. The sergeant countered with the probability that Devlin was too busy to be disturbed,
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