impatiently.
“Hundreds of people use the elevator. I’m not worried about that.”
“What have you done with her beads?”
“I’ve thrown them into the sea.”
“Are you sure nothing of hers has been left here?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Didn’t she have a handbag?”
“No.”
“Are you quite sure? Girls always have handbags, Jay.”
“She didn’t. I’m sure.”
Sophia began to relax a little. Perhaps after all it would be all right, she thought. How could the police guess the girl had died in this suite? Surely their name and reputation would put them beyond suspicion?
“Then we must hope, Jay. I’m going to bed now.”
“Thank you for helping me,” Jay said. “You don’t have to worry. No one saw me.”
But there he was wrong.
Joe Kerr had seen Sophia leave the suite and press the elevator call button. He had watched her move furtively down the corridor to the head of the stairs and look over the banister rail. He had leaned forward, blankly surprised, wondering what she was doing when he saw Jay come unsteadily out of the suite with Lucille Balu slung limply over his shoulder. Joe recognized the girl’s blue and white dress and the colour of her hair.
He was so surprised to see Jay carrying the girl out of the suite that he remained transfixed and it wasn’t until it was too late that he groped for his camera. By then the elevator door had closed and the elevator had begun to climb. He watched Sophia come back along the corridor and as she passed under one of the ceiling lights, he saw how bad she looked; as if she were going to faint.
He waited.
A few minutes later, he saw Jay come down the stairs, walk across the corridor to the door of suite 27, open the door and disappear inside. He heard the key turn in the lock.
Still Joe sat motionless, staring with his frog-like, watery eyes at the door to suite 27.
His drink-sodden brain took some time before it accepted the evidence of his eyes and even then, he was suspicious of what he had seen.
He had been waiting outside the door of Delaney’s suite for a long time, and, as the hours had passed, he had become resigned to the fact that he was wasting his time, as he had wasted it so often on some hopeless assignment he had hoped would turn out to be something that would interest Manley and make him some money.
Lucille Balu had walked into the suite at four o’clock in the afternoon. This boy, Jay Delaney, had carried her out, apparently unconscious, twelve hours later and had taken her upstairs in the elevator.
Why was she unconscious? What had been happening to her during those twelve hours?
Joe grappled with this puzzle, his mind baffled.
Obviously, Floyd Delaney’s high-toned wife was in the secret.
She had acted as a scout, making sure the way was clear for the boy to get the unconscious girl out of the suite.
Had the girl been drugged or made drunk so the boy could seduce her? Joe wondered. Surely a woman like Sophia Delaney wouldn’t have associated herself with such a situation? But the fact remained that the girl had been in the suite for twelve hours and had been carried out unconscious. If he could prove that young Delaney had drugged the girl and Sophia Delaney had assisted in such an act, what a story it would make!
Unsteadily he got to his feet.
Where had the boy taken her? he wondered. He was pretty sure the girl wasn’t staying at the hotel. Where had she been dumped to sleep off the effects of the drug or drink the boy had plied her with?
Joe moved out of his hiding place and walked softly down the corridor to the elevator, then, deciding it might be dangerous to bring the elevator down to that floor, he started up the stairs to the floor above.
He was breathing heavily by the time he reached the third floor. Stair climbing and a diet of two bottles of whisky a day didn’t agree with him.
He thumbed the elevator button and, leaning against the wall, he waited for the elevator to descend, planning to
“Hundreds of people use the elevator. I’m not worried about that.”
“What have you done with her beads?”
“I’ve thrown them into the sea.”
“Are you sure nothing of hers has been left here?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Didn’t she have a handbag?”
“No.”
“Are you quite sure? Girls always have handbags, Jay.”
“She didn’t. I’m sure.”
Sophia began to relax a little. Perhaps after all it would be all right, she thought. How could the police guess the girl had died in this suite? Surely their name and reputation would put them beyond suspicion?
“Then we must hope, Jay. I’m going to bed now.”
“Thank you for helping me,” Jay said. “You don’t have to worry. No one saw me.”
But there he was wrong.
Joe Kerr had seen Sophia leave the suite and press the elevator call button. He had watched her move furtively down the corridor to the head of the stairs and look over the banister rail. He had leaned forward, blankly surprised, wondering what she was doing when he saw Jay come unsteadily out of the suite with Lucille Balu slung limply over his shoulder. Joe recognized the girl’s blue and white dress and the colour of her hair.
He was so surprised to see Jay carrying the girl out of the suite that he remained transfixed and it wasn’t until it was too late that he groped for his camera. By then the elevator door had closed and the elevator had begun to climb. He watched Sophia come back along the corridor and as she passed under one of the ceiling lights, he saw how bad she looked; as if she were going to faint.
He waited.
A few minutes later, he saw Jay come down the stairs, walk across the corridor to the door of suite 27, open the door and disappear inside. He heard the key turn in the lock.
Still Joe sat motionless, staring with his frog-like, watery eyes at the door to suite 27.
His drink-sodden brain took some time before it accepted the evidence of his eyes and even then, he was suspicious of what he had seen.
He had been waiting outside the door of Delaney’s suite for a long time, and, as the hours had passed, he had become resigned to the fact that he was wasting his time, as he had wasted it so often on some hopeless assignment he had hoped would turn out to be something that would interest Manley and make him some money.
Lucille Balu had walked into the suite at four o’clock in the afternoon. This boy, Jay Delaney, had carried her out, apparently unconscious, twelve hours later and had taken her upstairs in the elevator.
Why was she unconscious? What had been happening to her during those twelve hours?
Joe grappled with this puzzle, his mind baffled.
Obviously, Floyd Delaney’s high-toned wife was in the secret.
She had acted as a scout, making sure the way was clear for the boy to get the unconscious girl out of the suite.
Had the girl been drugged or made drunk so the boy could seduce her? Joe wondered. Surely a woman like Sophia Delaney wouldn’t have associated herself with such a situation? But the fact remained that the girl had been in the suite for twelve hours and had been carried out unconscious. If he could prove that young Delaney had drugged the girl and Sophia Delaney had assisted in such an act, what a story it would make!
Unsteadily he got to his feet.
Where had the boy taken her? he wondered. He was pretty sure the girl wasn’t staying at the hotel. Where had she been dumped to sleep off the effects of the drug or drink the boy had plied her with?
Joe moved out of his hiding place and walked softly down the corridor to the elevator, then, deciding it might be dangerous to bring the elevator down to that floor, he started up the stairs to the floor above.
He was breathing heavily by the time he reached the third floor. Stair climbing and a diet of two bottles of whisky a day didn’t agree with him.
He thumbed the elevator button and, leaning against the wall, he waited for the elevator to descend, planning to
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