“Without the body we’re sunk!” Rollo said, sitting down abruptly.

A thin smile appeared on Gilroy’s lips. “What do I tell him?” he said. “He is waiting.”

“Let him wait,” Rollo said savagely. “Who could have done it? Doc? Do you think Doc’s double-crossing us?”

Gilroy lifted his shoulders. “He would not have had the time,” he pointed out.

“Then who? Don’t sit there like a graven image. What am I going to do?”

Weidmann’s voice was shrieking now. “Hello?” the receiver squeaked. “Why don’t you answer? Why don’t you answer? Hello? Hello? Hello?”

Rollo pulled himself together. “Tell him we’ll be right with him. Tell him we are coming now.”

When Gilroy had conveyed the message, he hung up.

“Someone else knows about this,” Rollo said, pacing up and down. “My God! Whoever’s got the body can wring Weidmann dry! What a fool I was not to have thought of it. I could have done without Doc.” He paused as he met Gilroy’s eyes. Then he looked at the desk. The little wooden doll was lying on its side.

“You don’t have to worry about Doc,” Gilroy said.

Rollo took two quick steps forward and thrust his great, red face into Gilroy’s. “Listen, you goddamn nigger!” he said violently. “Cut this stuff out! I’ve had enough of you for tonight. Now shut up!”

Gilroy nodded. “I thought you would want to know,” he said, lifting his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“I haven’t time to waste,” Rollo said. “I’ve got to get organized.” He stroked his heavy jowls with a hand that was none too steady. “Tell Tom to get the car. Get hold of Butch. We’ve got to get out to Weidmann’s at once.”

Gilroy silently left the room.

A big Packard waited at the end of the alley. Long Tom was sitting at the wheel, a sullen, bored look on his face.

“Mademoiselle Celie’s apartment,” Rollo said, climbing into the car. Gilroy followed him and as he slammed the door, Tom drove off.

They reached Bruton Place in a few minutes and Rollo pulled out a keychain, selected a key and opened the door of Celie’s flat.

The light was on at the top of the stairs.

“Wait here. If I want you, I’ll call you,” he said to Gilroy and breathing heavily, he heaved himself up the steep stairs.

Celie came out of her bedroom as he was halfway up. Her face was ghastly in the hard electric light.

“What do you want?” she demanded in a quavering voice. “I don’t want to see you. Go away!”

Rollo paused, bewildered to see her like this. Her face was ashen and her great black eyes rolled in terror. Her mouth, a smear of lipstick, worked horribly.

“What’s the matter?” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

She leaned forward. “Get out!” she screamed at him. “Get out!”

Rollo moved slowly up the stairs. He reached her and his great hands sank into her shoulders. “What’s the matter with you?” he snarled and shook her so that her head snapped back.

“Leave me alone,” she moaned, sinking at the knees.

He had to support her. Picking her up, he walked into her bedroom and dumped her on the bed.

“You’re wasting time,” Gilroy said from the doorway.

Rollo turned. “Did I tell you to come up?” he demanded, his face contorted with fury.

“Weidmann’s waiting,” Gilroy returned. “I thought he would be more important to you.”

Rollo straightened and stepped away from Celie who lay still, her face buried in the pillow.

“Yes,” he said, “you’re right.” He pulled Celie over on her back. “Listen,” he said, glaring down at her. “Get hold of Butch. Tell him to come out to Weidmann’s. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you hear? I’ve more important things to worry about just now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He pushed past Gilroy and went down the steep stairs.

Gilroy said softly, “Clean up the bathroom, Celie, it smells of death,” and he followed Rollo without a backward glance.

* * *

“A Detective Sergeant!” Cedric Smythe exclaimed. “Really, it’s fantastic. I don’t know how you’ve done it!”

The tall, pleasant-looking young man seated opposite him, grinned shyly and raised his glass of beer. “Well, you must admit I would never have made an actor”,” he said. “Come on, Cedric, be honest.”

Cedric shook his head. “I don’t know so much about that,” he returned, shaking his head.

Cedric sighed. He was happy. For the first time for many months one of his friends had called on him. It was a pity that Jerry Adams had lost touch with the theatre. What a sinful waste of talent, Cedric thought dismally. Fancy becoming a policeman! At one time, Jerry looked a most promising juvenile lead. In fact, Cedric had predicted a big future for him.

Jerry finished his beer. “Well, I’ve got to get back to the station,” he said, getting to his feet. “Now I know where you are I’ll come in again. It’s been grand to hear all the gossip.”

Cedric looked at the time. It was just after eleven. “Must you go?” he said wistfully. “Well, I suppose I mustn’t keep you from work. You’ll come again, won’t you? I’m lonely, Jerry. You wouldn’t believe how lonely I get.”

Jerry smiled. “I’m lonely, too,” he said. “Of course, I’m coming again. I’ve enjoyed every moment of this. Besides, I’m curious to meet this Miss Hedder you keep talking about.”

Cedric looked worried. “She’s such a nice girl, Jerry,” he returned, as they walked to the front door. “I’m so anxious about her. When a girl’s been jilted like that, you never know what the rebound is going to be.” He looked at Jerry with a smirk. “I’ve often thought what a splendid wife she’d make a young fellow like you.”

Jerry laughed. “You’re just the same old Cedric,” he returned, slipping into his overcoat. “Always on the lookout for romance. Why don’t you marry the girl yourself?”

“My dear boy,” Cedric protested. “The very idea! Why, I’m old and done for. Anyway, you must meet her. I’ll try to arrange it. Only just now, she seems very busy. I can’t imagine what she’s doing.”

Jerry grinned. “Well, if she’s breaking the law, you know where to come. As a matter of fact, Cedric, I’m hoping for an important case. If you know of anyone contemplating murder, you might give me a ring.”

He rinsed the glasses under the tap, put the bottle with several empties and turned off the light. He groped his way to the foot of the stairs and as he began the journey to his bedroom on the top floor, the front door bell rang.

For a moment, Cedric was startled. He turned on the hall light and glanced at his watch. It was eleven fifteen. He went to the front door and opened it.

Joe Crawford stood on the step. “I’ve got something for Miss Hedder,” he said, looking at Cedric with cold, baleful eyes.

Cedric, with a startled gasp, took an involuntary step back. He had not expected to see Joe again and the sight of his cold, hard face shocked him.

“What?” he said. “What do you mean, ringing at this time of night?”

He became aware of a taxi waiting and the driver, standing by a big trunk, looked up at him expectantly from the bottom of the steps.

“Shall I bring it up, Guv’nor?” he asked.

Joe turned. “I’ll give you a hand,” he said, then glancing contemptuously at Cedric he said, “This is for Miss Hedder. We’ll take it up.”

“What is it?” Cedric asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “I don’t know if I want you in my house after the way you spoke—”

“Aw, shut up!” Joe snapped and he ran down the steps and seized the trunk by one of its leather handles. The taxi driver caught hold of the other end and together they staggered up the steps and into the hall.

They let the trunk down with a thud and stood up, both looking at Cedric.

“Blimey!” the driver gasped, “that ain’t full of feathers.”

“Where’s her room?” Joe said to Cedric.