Compliments of a fiend, p.10
Compliments of a Fiend, page 10
She said, “He's here; he's talking on another line. Will you wait a minute?”
I said I would, and I did. Ben Starlock's voice came on. “Ed? There's a call for you on the other phone. Karl Dell. I was just trying to get out of him what he wants so he wouldn't bother you while you're with Bassett. But he wants to talk to you personally, so—
“Is he home? I guess he is; he was there when I left. If so, Ben, tell him I'll phone him as soon as I'm through talking with you. Tell him to stay by the phone; I'll be calling in a minute.”
Starlock said, “Okay, Ed,” and was gone from the line half a minute and then back “Guess you'd better call him right away, Ed; he sounded pretty excited about something.”
“Astrology,” I said. “He probably added Uncle Am's birth date to a transit of Mercury and got the latitude and longitude of where Uncle Am is now. But I'll call him. Listen, Ben, the reason I called in is to let you know where you can reach me. Bassett and I aren't eating at the Blackstone. Were at Chez Julliard, on Madison.”
“Okay, Ed. Don't spare the horses. Anything new?”
“Only that Estelle got on at the Blue Crocodile, as cigarette girl. And apparently Augie Grane hired her personally. Anyway, they're having cocktails at the Blackstone.”
“Oh. So that's why you aren't eating there. That Estelle's a good kid, Ed. Wish I could take her on as a full-time femme op.”
I knew he wouldn't want to if I told him about the bone-head stunt she'd done in introducing me to Augie, but I didn't want to go into that over the phone. I'd have to tell him if the question of my talking to Augie came up, but there wasn't any point in it otherwise. So I just said I'd better call Karl Dell and then get back to Bassett, and hung up.
I called home and Karl must have been waiting at the phone because he answered right away. He said, “Listen, Ed, I've got something damn important. I don't want to tell you over the phone, but can I see you right away? Your boss said you're eating dinner with the police captain—can I grab a cab and come there?” He did sound excited. I said, “Won't it keep, Karl? I'll come home right after we eat. Or can't you tell me now?”
“I—I'd rather not tell you over the phone. But it is important, Ed. Or it might be. And it isn't astrology, exactly.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him.
“Well—I hit a lucky number and it made me remember something. I mean it was a lucky number because it made me remember something. Where are you? I'd rather tell you about it personally.”
I began to think about if it was something he remembered, even if astrology had made him remember it, I wanted to hear it. And if it turned out to be nothing important, I could buy him a drink and get rid of him. So I said, “We're at Chez Julliard, Karl.”
“That's on Madison, isn't it? I'll grab a cab and be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I'll have a drink waiting for you,” I said. “What'll it be?” Anything. I don't care.” The receiver clicked in my ear.
I went back to the table and told Bassett about it.
He said, “Well, Ed, I hope it's something. We can use it. Say, Ben told me you managed to clear this Karl Dell. How come, and how?”
I told him about Karl's having been home—and at Mrs. Brady's door within seconds of four o'clock. And how Mrs. Brady happened to be sure of the exact time. “That clears him all right,” Bassett said. “The Ambrose Collector had to be a busy little bee from a few minutes of four o'clock until some time after. Probably for a long time before four, for that matter.”
“How do you figure that?”
“He timed his call just after Am came in—and it wouldn't have worked otherwise. He must have been either following Am or else watching the entrance of the building for Am to come in.”
“Sure,” I said. I glanced at my watch and said, “Well, it's a little after half past six. You'll be meeting him shortly. Ready for another drink? I promised Karl one.”
We caught the waiter's eye and ordered again, three drinks this time. I took a chance on ordering cognac for Karl; anyway, there wouldn't be any ice in it to melt if he was a little later than he'd predicted.
Bassett said, “Might as well see what he has before we order dinner, huh? But I'm getting hungry. Hope it's nothing that— Come to think of it, I hope it is something that keeps us from eating. If it's that important, it'll lie important.”
I hoped so, too. But I said, “How about this pumping you were going to do. Might as well start that while we're waiting.”
“Okay, Ed. You know about what I want. You start talking, and I'll interrupt when I think of a question.”
I knew what he wanted and I felt pretty sure that none of it was going to be any good. I started talking about what little I knew of Uncle Am's early life and how he and I got together—and stuck together—after my father's death. About the carnival, our coming to Chicago, who our friends were and what we did with ourselves outside of working hours—and during working hours, for that matter.
Bassett interrupted with questions and I answered them as well as I could. After a while he shook his head. “There's nothing there, Ed. Say, isn't it about time that guy got here?”
I looked at my watch and it was a quarter after seven. I said, “Unless something held him up. Maybe he didn't start right away. Although I got the impression that he would, and he said he'd take a cab. Shall we have another drink?”
He shook his head. “Not before we eat. I'm beginning to feel those. Sure he knows where the place is?”
“Yes,” I said. “I said Chez Julliard and he said 'On Madison, isn't it?' So he must know it.”
“Why don't you call home and be sure he left?”
I was sure Karl would have left before then, but I went to the phone and called Mrs. Brady. She hadn't seen Karl at all, but she called upstairs and didn't get an answer She asked me if there was any news about Uncle Am and I told her there wasn't.
The phone booth was near the front door and when I left it I strolled to the door and watched through it for a few seconds to see if Karl was coming.
I went back to the table and told Bassett, “Karl isn't there now, but Mrs. Brady didn't see him so she doesn't know what time he left.”
“He'll be here any minute, then. Damn, I'm getting hungry.”
“Let's order,” I said. “If Karl brings us a lead that's worth following, and following in a hurry, so what's the price of a dinner? Through asking me questions?”
“That's all I can think of now. What time is it?”
I looked at my watch and said, “Seven twenty-six. It was almost an hour ago that I talked to him. He could have walked here in half an hour.”
Bassett sighed and stood up. “I'll check,” he said. “If he had an accident or anything, the report might be in by now. You sure, though, he just didn't decide to do something else? Is he a dependable type of guy?”
“Without knowing him very well, I'd say he was, Frank. And he sounded plenty excited and seemed to think that what he had was pretty important.”
Bassett went to the phone booth and stepped inside. His call seemed to take quite a bit of time; two or three minutes later he stepped out of the booth, still with the receiver in his hand, and motioned to me.
I got there fast. I said, “Something about Uncle Am? Or—?”
“No. Karl Dell, maybe. Describe him, Ed.”
I said, “Five-eleven, under thirty, slender build, slightly wavy brown hair, brown eyes. Wore a light-brown tweed suit at five o'clock, probably wouldn't have changed it. Light-blue shirt, dark-blue solid-color tie—
“Hold it,” Bassett said. “That's plenty.”
He stepped back into the booth and didn't close the door. He said, “Yeah, that's the guy. Karl Dell, Karl with a K.” He gave the address and said, “Yeah, I've got someone here with me who can identify him. Where's the body?... Okay, we'll go there, but first we're going around to the guy's home address, want to get whatever's there while it's hot. Probably get there about the same time you do.”
He hung up.
I asked, “An accident?”
Bassett shook his head.
Chapter 9
I DIDN'T ASK FOR DETAILS until I'd managed to pay the check for the drinks and we'd got out of Chez Julliard and into a taxi.
Then Bassett said, “I checked Traffic first; there weren't any accidents that would fit. So I called my own department. Got Andrews and asked him if there'd been anything in the last hour. And something had just come in. Guy found killed and robbed in a parked car, way out on Howard Avenue.”
“Howard Avenue!” I said, surprised. Howard Avenue is half an hour's drive north of our rooming house, in the opposite direction from the Loop.
“Yeah. He was down on the floor of the car in the back seat. Hit in the head, probably with a pistol butt, although it could have been a hammer or jack handle or something else heavy and hard. His wallet was gone; all they had was a description and the monogram D on his belt buckle. And the horn going like all hell.”
I said, “Does it have to be Karl? I mean, there are lots of people in a city the size of Chicago that would fit that description.”
Bassett said, “That height-weight-age stuff, yes. But the clothes fitted, too. Light-brown tweed, light-blue shirt, dark-blue solid-color tie. And belt buckle monogrammed D. And on top of that, Karl Dell was missing. Don't kid yourself, Ed. It's him.”
I knew it was, I guess; I'd just been looking for a loophole. Then I remembered what Bassett had said about the horn. I asked, “What did you mean about the horn blowing like hell?”
“The button was jammed and the horn going. And that can mean either one of two things. Either the killer was heading out of town with the body and blew his horn for a crossing or to pass somebody or something and the button stuck. And he couldn't keep on driving with his horn blowing and a dead body in the car so he swung in to the curve and lammed on foot. Either that or he parked the car there with the body in it and for some reason or other wanted the body to be found right away, so he got out of the car, reached back in and pushed the button so it jammed, and then walked away.”
That would have been risky,” I said. “Someone might have noticed him walking away from the car, if the horn on the car was going.”
Bassett said, “Murder's always risky. If he jammed the horn on purpose, he had a good reason for doing it. But my guess is that the horn jammed on him while he was driving and he had to abandon the corpse and the car before he got wherever he was going with them.”
“They traced the license number of the car?”
“Not yet; they're doing it. But the car will turn out to be stolen, Ed. If it was the killer's own car he'd never have abandoned it with a corpse in it, not even if the horn button was stuck. He'd have to stay with the car and try to get the horn stopped before someone got a look in the back seat.”
“Who's going to be in charge?” I asked.
Bassett said, “I am. When I told Andrews that Dell was tied in with what I was already working on, he said, 'All right, Captain, it's your baby.' I was just working on your uncle's case unofficially anyway.”
“Why unofficially?”
“I'm with Homicide. Am's just a Missing Persons case, Ed, until—
He didn't finish it, but he'd started to say until his body is found. Not unless, but until.
Our taxi made good time. We got home before whoever else Andrews was sending got there.
We went upstairs first before trying Mrs. Brady's. Karl's door was closed and locked. Bassett was going to shoulder it down, but I told him Mrs. Brady had a duplicate key and there wasn't any use breaking the lock, so he said okay. I went into our room, just for a look around; I don't know why. Surely by now I'd given up hope of finding Uncle Am there, casually asleep in bed or reading the newspaper in his favorite chair. The room was just as I'd left it.
Bassett was starting down the stairs and said, “Come on, Ed.” I said, “Just a second, Frank. I'll see of Chester's home. He may have seen something.”
I knocked on Chester Hamlin's door and when there wasn't any answer, I tried the knob and found the door wasn't locked. I stuck my head inside and looked around. Chester wasn't there, but his hat and coat were thrown on the bed; he'd been home, probably he was down the hall in the bathroom. But he could wait until we'd seen Mrs. Brady and got the duplicate key from her, so I joined Bassett on the stairs and went down them and I knocked on Mrs. Brady's door.
When she opened it, I got the worst over right away. I said, “Mrs. Brady, I've got bad news. Karl Dell has been killed.”
Her face turned a bit paler than I'd ever seen it, but otherwise she took it pretty well. She asked, “You mean—?”
I nodded. I knew the question she hadn't asked was whether he'd been murdered, and she knew that I knew. I said, “This is Captain Bassett, Mrs. Brady, of the police. May we have a key to Karl's room?”
“Of course, Ed.” She keeps her duplicate keys hanging on a little rack just inside her door, so she could reach it for us without having to leave the door.
I asked, “When did you see Karl last, Mrs. Brady?”
“Why—-the time you asked me about, Ed. Yesterday at four o'clock when he borrowed the aspirins. I haven't seen him today at all.”
I said, “He was here for an hour and a half. I saw him at five o'clock, when I left he'd just got home and was going to work on some astrology. And he was still here at half past six because I talked to him then on the phone.”
“I didn't see him, Ed. I've been in my kitchen most of the time, though. I wouldn't have seen him. You say you talked to him on the phone here? I didn't answer it.”
“He did. He was waiting by the phone for me to call because he'd just called the agency and I'd just called there and—well, that's complicated. Anyway he answered the phone the first time it rang, so that's probably why you didn't hear it.”
“Of course. I probably wouldn't if it only rang once. Maybe Chester saw Karl. You want to ask him, Ed? He's here; he had dinner with me. He's in the kitchen now, drying dishes.”
I said, “Sure, I'd like to talk to him; I was looking for him upstairs. But first—
how long has he been here?”
“Oh, about an hour, I guess. A customer of his gave him some perch, two nice ones. He couldn't cook them himself so he stopped in on his way home and—
“When would that have been?” I interrupted.
“At least an hour ago. He asked me if I could use them. Well, I hadn't started supper for myself; I was just getting ready to. So I asked him if he'd eaten yet and he hadn't so I just fixed the fish for both of us.”
I looked at my watch and saw that it was seven forty-five; if Chester Hamlin had been there an hour, he couldn't possibly have been the driver of the car in which Karl had been found killed. Not that I had any reason for suspecting Chester anyway, but he did room between me and Karl, and having an alibi wouldn't hurt him any and would save us worrying about him as a possibility.
So I asked, “You're sure it was a full hour?”
“Well—I didn't look at the time, Ed, or if I did, I don't remember. But we cooked dinner, ate it, had coffee afterwards, and washed the dishes—or most of them. It must have been almost an hour.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Could we come in and ask Chester if he did see Karl?”
“Of course, Ed.” She stepped aside and we went in and walked through to the kitchen. Chester was wearing a kitchen apron of Mrs. Brady's and had a dish towel in his hand.
He said, “Hi, Ed. Say, I developed those pics of you playing trombone and they're pretty good. Show 'em to you later. Any news of your uncle?”
I shook my head. “Have you seen Karl, Chester?” I asked him.
“Good Lord, isn't he home yet? You were waiting for him last night, weren't you?”
“I saw him when he got in last night. I mean, did you see him at all today?”
“No. Why?”
“What time did you get home?” I asked him.
“Oh—about an hour ago. I didn't notice exactly. Why, Ed? Is something wrong?”
“Yes,” I said. “Karl's dead. This is Captain Bassett of Homicide, Chester. We're trying to find out what happened. Did you go upstairs when you came home an hour ago, or did you come right in here?”
“Well, both. I mean I stopped at Mrs. Brady's door here on my way in, to give her the fish that somebody gave me today. She asked me if I'd eat them with her and I said sure. But I went up to my room and left my coat and hat there, then I came down here.” 'You left your door unlocked?” 'Yes, I guess I did. I thought I'd be in the building.”
“And you have been ever since?”
“Sure. I've been in here ever since.”
There was knocking on Mrs. Brady's door; it was two men from the Homicide Department. We, Bassett and I, joined them out in the hall. Bassett introduced me to them; their names were Jerry Dix and Tom Keyes.
“Well,” Bassett said, “guess we'll have to have an identification. Jerry, will you drive Ed around and have him take a look? Tom and I will start working on Dell's room upstairs.”
Jerry Dix took me in his car to the mortician's place on Howard Avenue where the body had been taken. It was Karl Dell all right. I signed a paper making identification of the body and Dix drove me back.
We went upstairs and found Bassett and the other detective going through the books in Karl's bookcase, leafing through every book. Bassett looked up and I nodded.
“Any ideas, Ed?”
“How's about eating?” I asked him. I'd left my appetite at the mortuary but I knew he must be starving by now.
He said, “When we didn't eat at the Blackstone, Ed, I had a hunch we'd end up eating hamburgers. Want to go out and get some?”
“Sure,” I said. I checked with Dix and Keyes and found they'd already eaten.
I went around the corner and came back with a bag of hamburgers. Bassett was still working on the books in the bookcase, but neither of the other detectives was there.
He grabbed a hamburger out of the bag and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took a big bite and talked around it. He said, “I've got Keyes interviewing the landlady, digging out everything she can remember about Dell. He already talked to this Chester Hamlin. Didn't get much; seems he knew Dell only very casually.”
