glass quickly, noticing how easily she could lose her temper. After two swallows Selma put the glass down and leaned back, sighing. “Paar, you’re so good to me.”
“Don’t mention it, my dear. And stay as long as you like. In fact, Selma, what do you say you move in with me? The place is large, I’m alone, I could use an attractive hostess when I entertain.”
Selma wasn’t answering. Her face was flushed nowand she was staring at the ceiling with a vague smile.
“Selma, my dear, are you all right?”
“Jaysis.”
Paar saw it was no use. She didn’t resist when he pulled her up and steered her toward the bedroom. He hadn’t expected she would. Sitting on the large bed, Selma smiled pleasantly when Paar started to unbutton her dress.
“You’ll be comfortable soon now.” His hands were sweating. “We’ll talk about Catell in the morning, sweetness. And you’ll tell me all about your bad, bad time with the police.”
He took her dress off, Selma lifting her rear so he could pull it up. Sitting down again, she swayed a little, eyes closed. Paar steadied her and started to fumble with her brassiere.
“Soon now, my dearest, soon you’ll be all right, eh, Selma?” He got the brassiere unhooked and pulled the straps off her shoulders. His voice was shaky when he said, “Darling.”
Selma sank back on the bed, sighing. With nervous movements Paar fumbled with his dinner jacket while he ran to the light switch. He was pulling his tie off when he clicked the light switch.
Out of the darkness Selma said, “Jaysis.”
Chapter Six
“Why’d you let ‘em go?” The detective was still picking his teeth.
“I got all the information I need at the moment,” Herron said. He was shuffling through the stenographer’s notes,
“Coffee, anyone?” The fourth man stuck his head in the door.
“Not for me.” Herron lit himself a cigarette and shuffled through the notes again.
“Bring me one, Charlie, black,” the detective said.
The detective walked from the door to the window, looked down into the dark street, and walked back again. “I got all night yet,” he said.
“Yeah?”
He walked again. The stenographer had put his overcoat on and gone out.
“What you learn, Jack?” the detective asked. He spat out a little piece of toothpick and sat down opposite Herron.
“Well, for one thing, that Catell didn’t go to New York.”
“Yeah, that Paar sure was anxious for you to think so.”
“Where’s the phone?”
“Next room. Wish Charlie’d hurry up with that coffee.”
Herron went next door and dialed a number. “Hello? Herron here. Who’s on duty?…O.K., give me Agent Polnik.” Herron waited, scribbling in his notebook. “Polnik? Listen. Have somebody check if there was a train forNew York at one A.M. Get the New York office to have a man wait for the train, if there was one…What? Not till five A.M. ? O.K., then skip that angle. Now, listen. We’re looking for Anthony Catell. Look him up in the file I left in the office…Yes, one of the files I got there. Next, cover the station, airport, bus terminals for the next twenty-four hours…Yes, same man. Pay special attention to anything leaving for Los Angeles…No, I’m not sure. We have one informant to go by, but she was drunk. But Catell might fit into the picture because of other information…Uh-huh, he knew Schumacher. One more thing, and this is important. Have the men carry Geiger counters. And check baggage rooms…Yeah. O.K., ‘bye.”
Herron hung up and went back to the other room. The detective was drinking black coffee and chewing a fresh toothpick. Charlie was spooning a milk shake out of a paper carton.
“How you can eat that stuff is beyond me,” the detective was saying.
“Makes more sense than eating toothpicks.”
“Well, Jack, what next?” The detective looked up when Herron came in.
“We’re covering the usual. Probably useless. Catell is no greenhorn. Lemme have a sip.” Herron took the coffee
“Don’t mention it, my dear. And stay as long as you like. In fact, Selma, what do you say you move in with me? The place is large, I’m alone, I could use an attractive hostess when I entertain.”
Selma wasn’t answering. Her face was flushed nowand she was staring at the ceiling with a vague smile.
“Selma, my dear, are you all right?”
“Jaysis.”
Paar saw it was no use. She didn’t resist when he pulled her up and steered her toward the bedroom. He hadn’t expected she would. Sitting on the large bed, Selma smiled pleasantly when Paar started to unbutton her dress.
“You’ll be comfortable soon now.” His hands were sweating. “We’ll talk about Catell in the morning, sweetness. And you’ll tell me all about your bad, bad time with the police.”
He took her dress off, Selma lifting her rear so he could pull it up. Sitting down again, she swayed a little, eyes closed. Paar steadied her and started to fumble with her brassiere.
“Soon now, my dearest, soon you’ll be all right, eh, Selma?” He got the brassiere unhooked and pulled the straps off her shoulders. His voice was shaky when he said, “Darling.”
Selma sank back on the bed, sighing. With nervous movements Paar fumbled with his dinner jacket while he ran to the light switch. He was pulling his tie off when he clicked the light switch.
Out of the darkness Selma said, “Jaysis.”
Chapter Six
“Why’d you let ‘em go?” The detective was still picking his teeth.
“I got all the information I need at the moment,” Herron said. He was shuffling through the stenographer’s notes,
“Coffee, anyone?” The fourth man stuck his head in the door.
“Not for me.” Herron lit himself a cigarette and shuffled through the notes again.
“Bring me one, Charlie, black,” the detective said.
The detective walked from the door to the window, looked down into the dark street, and walked back again. “I got all night yet,” he said.
“Yeah?”
He walked again. The stenographer had put his overcoat on and gone out.
“What you learn, Jack?” the detective asked. He spat out a little piece of toothpick and sat down opposite Herron.
“Well, for one thing, that Catell didn’t go to New York.”
“Yeah, that Paar sure was anxious for you to think so.”
“Where’s the phone?”
“Next room. Wish Charlie’d hurry up with that coffee.”
Herron went next door and dialed a number. “Hello? Herron here. Who’s on duty?…O.K., give me Agent Polnik.” Herron waited, scribbling in his notebook. “Polnik? Listen. Have somebody check if there was a train forNew York at one A.M. Get the New York office to have a man wait for the train, if there was one…What? Not till five A.M. ? O.K., then skip that angle. Now, listen. We’re looking for Anthony Catell. Look him up in the file I left in the office…Yes, one of the files I got there. Next, cover the station, airport, bus terminals for the next twenty-four hours…Yes, same man. Pay special attention to anything leaving for Los Angeles…No, I’m not sure. We have one informant to go by, but she was drunk. But Catell might fit into the picture because of other information…Uh-huh, he knew Schumacher. One more thing, and this is important. Have the men carry Geiger counters. And check baggage rooms…Yeah. O.K., ‘bye.”
Herron hung up and went back to the other room. The detective was drinking black coffee and chewing a fresh toothpick. Charlie was spooning a milk shake out of a paper carton.
“How you can eat that stuff is beyond me,” the detective was saying.
“Makes more sense than eating toothpicks.”
“Well, Jack, what next?” The detective looked up when Herron came in.
“We’re covering the usual. Probably useless. Catell is no greenhorn. Lemme have a sip.” Herron took the coffee
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