"Naturally not. This stage is almost a soundproof booth."

He had seen the egg timer but I had not told him until then about seeing the last of the sand run out. He pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

"Call it hallucination. I think I saw it. I'll testify to it."

He sat down on the altar, avoiding the blood stain, and said nothing for quite a long time. Finally he said, "Eddie my boy - "

"Yes?"

"You've not only given Jack Joy an alibi, you've damn' near made it impossible for anyone to have done it."

"I know it. Could it have been suicide?"

"Could be. Could be. From the mechanics angle but not from the psychological angle. Would she have started that egg timer for her own suicide? Another thing. Take a look at that blood. Taste it."

"Huh?"

"Don't throw up. Smell it then."

I did, very gingerly. Then I smelled it again. T' smells. Tomato. Blood. Blood and tomato catsup thought I could detect differences in appearance well. "You see, son? If she's going to have blood on I chest she won't bother with catsup. Aside from time and the timer it's a perfect, dramatic, female - style icicle. But it won't wash. It's murder, Eddie." Feinstein stuck his head in. "Lieutenant - " "What is it?"

"That musician punk. He had a date with her right."

"Oh, he did, eh?"

"But he's clear. The band was on the air at midnight in a number that features him in a trumpet solo.'

"Damn! Get out of here."

"That ain't all. I called the Assistant Medical examiner, like you said. The motive you suggested won’t go - she not only wasn't expecting; she hadn't even been had. Virgo intacta," he added in passable hi school Latin.

"Feinstein, you'll be wanting to be a sergeant next,” Spade answered placidly, "using big words like that. Get out."

"Okay, Lieutenant." I was more than a little surprised at the news. I would have picked Estelle a case of round heels. Evidently she was a tease in more ways than one.

Spade sat a while longer, then said, "When it's 1i1 in here, it's dark out there; when it's light out then its dark in here.

"That's right. Ordinarily, that is. Right now we got both sides lighted with the bypass."

"Ordinarily is what I mean. Light, dark; dark, hg Eddie my boy - "

"Yes?"

"Are you sweet on that Hazel girl?"

"I'm leaning that way," I admitted.

"Then keep an eye on her. The murderer was in K for just a few seconds - the egg timer and the buzzer prove that. He wasn't any of the people who knew about the swap in the shows - not since the trumpet playing boy friend got knocked out of the running. And it was dark. He murdered the wrong party, Eddie my boy. There's another murder coming up."

"Hazel," I said slowly.

"Yes, Hazel."

Spade Jones shooed us all home, me, Hazel, the two waiters, the other barman, and Jack Joy. I think he was tempted to hold Jack simply because he wouldn't talk but he compromised by telling him that if he stuck his head outside his hotel, he would find a nice policeman ready to take him down to a nice cell. He tipped me a wink and put a finger on his lips as he said good night to me.

But I didn't keep quiet. Hazel let me take her home readily enough. When I saw that she lived alone in a single apartment in a building without a doorman, I decided it called for an all night vigil and some explaining.

She stepped into the kitchenette and mixed me a drink. "One drink and out you go, Ed," she called to me. "You've been very sweet and I want to see you again and thank you, but tonight this girl goes to bed. I'm whipped."

"I'm staying all night," I announced firmly.

She came out with a drink in her hand and looked at me, both annoyed and a little puzzled. "Ed," she said, "aren't you working just a bit too fast? I didn't think you were that clumsy."

"Calm yourself, beautiful," I told her. "It's not necessarily a proposition. I'm going to watch over you. Somebody is trying to kill you."

She dropped the drink.

I helped her clean it up and explained the situation. "Somebody stabbed a girl in a dark room," I finished. "That somebody thought it was you. He knows better by now and he will be looking for a chance to finish the job. What you and I have got to figure out is: Who wants to kill you?"

She sat down and started to manhandle a handkerchief. "Nobody wants to kill me, Eddie."

"No, it wasn't."

"But it couldn't have been me. I know."

"What do you know?"

"I - Oh, it's impossible. Stay all night if you want to. You can sleep on the couch." She got up and pull the bed down out of the wall, went in the bath, closed the door, and splashed around for a while. "That bath is too small to dress and undress in," she stated flat "Anyhow I sleep raw. If you want to get undressed y won't scare me."

I said. "I'll take my coat and tie.”

"Suit yourself." Her voice was a little bit smother as she was already wiggling her dress over her head.

She wore pants and a white knit that looked clean and neat. She did not wear a brassiere and did not need to. The conception I had gotten of her figure in the Magic Mirror, entirely justified. She was simply the most magnificently beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. Even in street clothes she was a beautiful, well - built woman in her skin - wars have started over less.

I was beginning to doubt my ability to stay on the couch. I must have showed it, for she snorted, "Wipe the drool off your chin!" and stepped out of her pants.

'Scuse, please," I answered and started unlacing my shoes. She stepped over and switched off the light then went over to the one big window and raised the shade. It was closed but, with the light out, you could see outside easily. "Stand back from that window, said. "You're too good a target."

"Huh? Oh, very well." She backed up a few steps and continued to stare thoughtfully out the window. I stared thoughtfully at her. There was a big neon sign across the street and the colored lights, pouring in the window, covered her from head to foot with a rosy liquid glow. She looked like something out of a dream of fairyland.

Presently I wasn't thinking how she looked; I was thinking about another room, where a girl had lain murdered, with the lights of a night club shining through a pane of glass, shining through like this neon.

My thoughts rearranged themselves rapidly and very painfully. I added them up a second time and still got the same answer. I did not like the answer. I was glad, damn glad, she was bare naked, with no way to conceal a gun, or a knife, or any other sort of deadly weapon. "Hazel," I said softly.

She turned to me. "Yes, Eddie?"

"I've just had a new idea .. . why should anyone want to kill you?"

"You said that before. There isn't any reason."

"I know. You're right; there isn't any. But put it this way - why should you want to kill Estelle?"

I thought she was going to faint again, but I didn't care - I wanted to shock her. Her lusciousness meant nothing to me now but a trap that had confused my thoughts. I had not wanted to think her guilty, so I had disregarded the fact that of all the persons involved she was the only one with the necessary opportunity, the knowledge of the swapped shows, and at least some motive. She had made it plain that she detested Estelle. She had covered it up but it was still evident.

But most important of all, the little stage had not been dark! True, it looked dark - from the outside. You can't see through glass when all the light comes from one side and you are on that same side - but light passes through the glass just the same. The neon on the street illuminated this room we were in fairly brightly; the brilliant lights of Jack's bar illuminated the little stage even when the stage floodlights were out.

She knew that. She knew it because she had been there many times, getting ready to pose for the suckers. Therefore she knew that it was not a case of mi taken identity in the dark - there was no dark! And would have to be nearly pitch black for anyone to mi take Hazel's blue - black mane for Estelle's peroxide mop.