On the cab ride over to the Tops, I mulled over Evelyn's story. It didn't sit right. She didn't seem like the type to commit murder.
I wasn't sure if she was lying, but her money was good.
I told the driver to get as close to the entrance as possible. It was raining hard that night.
As we got closer, I saw the cavalry made it before I did.
About a dozen police cruisers in front of the hotel. The whole scene was taped off.
I got out of the cab and made my way up to the tape where a cop was standing.
"Hey pal, mind letting me through?"
"Is that you Jerry?"
I looked again and tried to make out his face through all the rain and dark. I realized it was Monroe, an old friend of mine from the force.
"It's me alright, Monroe. How you been? Sergeant treating you alright?"
"He's been fair. You here on a job, Jerry?"
"Yea."
"Alright."
He lifted the tape and I crossed over to the covered area of the entrance, out of that rain.
"Sarge will be happy to see you Jerry!"
"I'm not so sure."
"Oh sure he will, he talks about you all the time."
"Is that so. Well, I'll go put a stop to that."
"See ya around, Jerry."
"See ya kid."
I made my way out of the gloom and into the vibrant lobby. It was mostly empty now, aside from the detectives and the hotel staff being questioned, but the cigar smoke hovered there. A swanky joint, lots of red.
I put a cigarette to my lips and sparked a match against my thumb. I took in the scene as I took in a drag.
The receptionist looked on the verge of collapsing. Pale skin. Shaky knees. A detective was questioning him.
If he'd handed Evelyn that telephone, I wanted to know what the man on the other end had said to him. I'd have a word once the detective was finished.
The bell boy seemed to be handling it better.
I spotted some detectives standing by the elevator. I made my way over to them.
"Good evening boys. Any ideas where I can find the Sergeant?"
"Who are you?" the one on the left said.
"Geronimo Flint. Maybe you've heard of me. I've been told the Sergeant doesn't stop talking about me."
"Oh yea, you must be that gumshoe fella, right?"
"I prefer private investigator, but it's all the same."
"Sarge is up at the scene. The penthouse."
He pointed towards the elevator.
"Thank you gentlemen."
I got in and hit the "PH" button.
The elevator sure did take its sweet time getting me up. To be fair the hotel was tall. The button before "PH" read: "30".
DING
The elevator opened onto a small landing. The penthouse door stood open. At the chime, a few faces turned towards me.
I stepped inside. There were at least ten detectives casing the scene.
"Jerry?"
It was that unmistakable rasp of Sergeant Pembroke's voice.
"Sergeant, how are you?"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm working a case."
"Don't tell me... she hired you?"
"Who's she?"
"You know who I'm talking about Jerry, don't play dumb with me."
"I'm not playing. Listen Sarge, I've been hearing these awful rumors. Apparently you can't keep my name out of your mouth."
“Where is she, Jerry?”
“Who?”
“You’re a better detective than you are a liar.”
It was a mess in the penthouse. Bed sheets thrown every which way, couch cushions tossed, drawers pulled out, and a body.
A body lying in a pool of red. That same red I'd been seeing all night.
It must have been Arthur Musgrove.
Six expensive rings still on his hands. Two on the right, four on the left. Whoever tossed the place had passed up a small fortune.
I lit another cigarette and took a drag.
"Jerry, do me a favor, you can look around, just don't contaminate my scene."
"Yea."
I walked over to Musgrove. He was lying flat on his stomach. It would have been a fine suit if it weren't for the hole in the back.
"Shot in the back?" I asked.
"Front," Pembroke said. "Doctor says it went through."
Evelyn hadn't said anything about a gun. Just that he was dead.
I looked over the floor around the body. No casing that I could see.
"Hey Sarge, you boys find a casing?"
"Not yet."
Maybe a revolver. Maybe somebody had picked up after himself.
A newspaper lay under an ashtray on the end table beside the couch. The lamp above it was still on.
I walked over and moved the ashtray.
MUSGROVE OPENS NEW HOTEL.
Underneath was a picture of Musgrove shaking hands with that rotten Wesson. The new hotel stood behind them. Both men were smiling.
Three rings on Musgrove's right hand in the photograph.
I looked back at the body.
Two.
I wanted to ask Evelyn about that ring before Pembroke did.
The Sergeant had turned to one of his men. I folded the paper and slipped it into my inner coat pocket.
I walked towards the elevator.
"Well Sarge, it seems like there's not much for me here."
"Jerry, come by the station sometime. I've got something I need to talk to you about."
"I love you Sarge, but I'm not coming back on the force."
"Oh stop! You are so full of yourself! Just come see me when you can."
"Alright Sergeant. I'll do that."
I went back down to the lobby.