1974 - Goldfish Have No Hiding Place by James Hadley Chase Page A

had much money.”
    “I wouldn't know.”
    “Well, I am disappointed,” she said and smiled at me. “I was quite, quite sure you would have some inside information. I adore a murder case.”
    Chandler leaned forward and patted her hand.
    “Look, honey, I have to talk to Steve. So suppose you two girls get together, huh?”
    Lois lifted her elegant shoulders and turned to Jean.
    “Let's go,” she said. “Obviously we're outstaying our welcome.”
    When the door closed behind them, Chandler pushed back his chair and got to his feet.
    “We'll go to my study. I want to see the Hammond pulls.”
    It was not until after midnight that I escaped from his study. By then Jean had gone home and Lois had gone to bed.
    Chandler was delighted with the Hammond article. He also talked about the President's anti-inflation plans and together we mapped out an article explaining what the President had in mind. This would have to be written by Lancing. Chandler also talked about the Schultz article. He wanted that to appear in the following issue.
    “We'll keep them on the run, Steve,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy. “Hit them and keep hitting them. It's good news - Wally will be all right. He's a damn fine researcher. As soon as he's on his feet, I'll send him and his wife down to Palm Beach for some sun. How about a replacement until he can start work again?”
    “Berry can handle it. I have a lot of good stuff we haven't used yet.”
    As he walked me to the front door, he said, “You're doing a fine job. Sorry Linda couldn't come. I like that girl.”
    I hesitated whether to tell him our marriage had broken down, but decided against it. There was time.
    I got in my car, then drove to the Imperial hotel and using one of the telephone booths, I called Jean. There was a delay, then she answered.
    “Could I come over?” I asked. “There's so much to tell you.”
    “I'm sorry. I'm in bed. I'm utterly exhausted after two hours with that woman. It'll have to wait until tomorrow.”
    “We never seem to have a moment in the office. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night so I can bring you up to date?”
    “Not tomorrow. I have a date.”
    “But this is important, Jean. Can't you break it?”
    “No.”
    The curt note in her voice told me that was final. I then began to get worried.
    “Jean . . . I know nothing about you. May I ask if there is someone?”
    A long pause, then she said, “There is someone . . . yes.”
    When she said that, I really realised I loved her. I experienced shock and bitter disappointment.
    “Really someone?” My voice turned husky.
    “I must get some sleep.” Again that curt note in her voice told me that too was final. “Good night,” and she hung up.
    Walking slowly, I went to my car. I had never felt so lonely.
    I had known her for eighteen months and had been blind to everything about her except her efficiency. Then suddenly I had seen her as a complete woman. It was like drawing aside a curtain and letting in the sun. I should have known that a girl like her must have a man in her life. Well, I knew now, but it didn't help or console me.
    I drove home and put the car in the garage. As I unlocked the door into the house a voice said, “Manson . . .”
    I spun around.
    Sergeant Brenner was standing in the shadows.
    “Turn the light off. I don't want to be seen.”
     
    ***
     
    We sat facing each other in my living room. As I looked at Brenner I got a shock. This wasn't the hard tough cop that I had known. This was a different man: a man who seemed to have fallen to pieces. His face was white and drawn. The hard lines were ironed out and could there be sudden flabbiness in his body?
    “Listen, Manson, I want you to level with me,” he said, his big hands turning into fists. “Did you get that film and the blow-ups? Don't lie to me.”
    “I didn't get them.”
    He sagged in the chair.
    “Goldstein now knows Gordy was a blackmailer. He knows someone has the film.”
    “If you're