ache. Treading wholly unfamiliar ground, carefully maintaining an outer show of on-the-job-ness, make-it-short-ism, and close-the-deal-ation, he called first at police headquarters and was shown into the office of Inspector Britten, who was immersed in a detective story and didn’t look up at his inquiry as to the status of the Shoreham case. “Why, we’re not handling it except for routine help, lab work and stuff like that. It’s a county case, so it’s in the hands of the sheriff.”
“You don’t know what they’ve turned up?”
“I don’t know a thing, buddy.”
Walking over to the courthouse, he entered the sheriff’s office, only to find that the Sheriff was out, and that the chief deputy “wouldn’t be in a position to make a statement about the case, as it’s entirely in Sheriff Lucas’s hands.”
At the State’s Attorney’s office, he fared, at first anyway, a little better. As he had information, he was admitted to see Mr. Pease, the county prosecutor. That gentleman listened to the news of the three big policies, nodded, made a note. “Thanks very much, Mr. Layton. If we want further information from you, we’ll let you know.”
“What do I do about an autopsy?”
“I suppose the police are doing an autopsy, and if you’ll show them your credentials they’ll let you see their report.”
“I mean a special autopsy.”
“Have to get a court order for that.”
Mr. Layton, who had no idea how to get a court order, or even a very clear idea what a court order was, said quickly: “I see.” Then, drawing a deep breath, he said: “Oh, and one other thing, Mr. Pease. We’re greatly concerned that she be held, and that the body be held, until the arrival of our representative from Los Angeles, Mr. Gans, and—”
“That who be held?”
“The beneficiary under these policies, Miss Shoreham.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Well, I was instructed to—”
“You ever been on a case like this before?”
“No sir, not exactly, but—”
“Then you’d better understand that neither you, nor Mr. Gans, nor the Southwest General, or any other corporation, insurance or otherwise, is telling this state whom to hold or whom not to hold or when to release a body. It would be very convenient for your company, no doubt, to escape payment under its policies by hanging something on Miss Shoreham, as anything they hung on her would probably relieve them of liability. But we’re not holding her, or the body, or anybody simply to accommodate you, or help your company beat a hundred-thousand-dollar rap. My suggestion to you and your special representative, Mr. Gans, is that you go a little slow in this case. A hundred thousand dollars probably looks pretty important to you, and I suppose to Mr. Gans. But I doubt if it does to her. Her reputation, though, might be a different matter, and you may find yourself in very serious trouble if you go around making wild charges against her.”
“I wasn’t making charges. I just—”
“You want her held?”
“Well yes sir, but only—”
“To be held she’s got to be charged.”
Shriveled, Mr. Layton went out to a drugstore and called his office, only to find that Mr. Gans had left on the three o’clock plane and directed that hotel reservation be made for him. Mr. Layton didn’t walk over to the hotel. He slunk there. At the desk he made a reservation for C. C. Gans, Los Angeles, for one night and possibly two, single room and bath, and O. K.’d the price: $6. But before he could do this he had to wait, while the clerk held colloquy with a girl. She was a rather pretty girl, with bright black eyes, round chubby face, and trim little figure. She was pleasantly dressed, in a little spring suit, and might have been a secretary, except that she had some slight touch of the gangster’s moll about her that secretaries don’t commonly have. The clerk was quite annoyed by her. “For the tenth time, Miss, Miss Shoreham is not seeing visitors. I can’t
“You don’t know what they’ve turned up?”
“I don’t know a thing, buddy.”
Walking over to the courthouse, he entered the sheriff’s office, only to find that the Sheriff was out, and that the chief deputy “wouldn’t be in a position to make a statement about the case, as it’s entirely in Sheriff Lucas’s hands.”
At the State’s Attorney’s office, he fared, at first anyway, a little better. As he had information, he was admitted to see Mr. Pease, the county prosecutor. That gentleman listened to the news of the three big policies, nodded, made a note. “Thanks very much, Mr. Layton. If we want further information from you, we’ll let you know.”
“What do I do about an autopsy?”
“I suppose the police are doing an autopsy, and if you’ll show them your credentials they’ll let you see their report.”
“I mean a special autopsy.”
“Have to get a court order for that.”
Mr. Layton, who had no idea how to get a court order, or even a very clear idea what a court order was, said quickly: “I see.” Then, drawing a deep breath, he said: “Oh, and one other thing, Mr. Pease. We’re greatly concerned that she be held, and that the body be held, until the arrival of our representative from Los Angeles, Mr. Gans, and—”
“That who be held?”
“The beneficiary under these policies, Miss Shoreham.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Well, I was instructed to—”
“You ever been on a case like this before?”
“No sir, not exactly, but—”
“Then you’d better understand that neither you, nor Mr. Gans, nor the Southwest General, or any other corporation, insurance or otherwise, is telling this state whom to hold or whom not to hold or when to release a body. It would be very convenient for your company, no doubt, to escape payment under its policies by hanging something on Miss Shoreham, as anything they hung on her would probably relieve them of liability. But we’re not holding her, or the body, or anybody simply to accommodate you, or help your company beat a hundred-thousand-dollar rap. My suggestion to you and your special representative, Mr. Gans, is that you go a little slow in this case. A hundred thousand dollars probably looks pretty important to you, and I suppose to Mr. Gans. But I doubt if it does to her. Her reputation, though, might be a different matter, and you may find yourself in very serious trouble if you go around making wild charges against her.”
“I wasn’t making charges. I just—”
“You want her held?”
“Well yes sir, but only—”
“To be held she’s got to be charged.”
Shriveled, Mr. Layton went out to a drugstore and called his office, only to find that Mr. Gans had left on the three o’clock plane and directed that hotel reservation be made for him. Mr. Layton didn’t walk over to the hotel. He slunk there. At the desk he made a reservation for C. C. Gans, Los Angeles, for one night and possibly two, single room and bath, and O. K.’d the price: $6. But before he could do this he had to wait, while the clerk held colloquy with a girl. She was a rather pretty girl, with bright black eyes, round chubby face, and trim little figure. She was pleasantly dressed, in a little spring suit, and might have been a secretary, except that she had some slight touch of the gangster’s moll about her that secretaries don’t commonly have. The clerk was quite annoyed by her. “For the tenth time, Miss, Miss Shoreham is not seeing visitors. I can’t
Similar Books
