Gold Comes in Bricks by A. A. Fair (Erle Stanley Gardner)

about him. Any time the police got the idea Alta might be mixed into it, they had a cinch. The night clerk at the hotel, the girl at the cigar counter, the man at the parking lot, the elevator boy— Oh, there were plenty of witnesses. The nice part of it was that those witnesses would have to swear that Alta had left the hotel before the shots were fired, but
    if Mrs. Ashbury thought she had a fistful of trumps, there was no reason why I shouldn’t let her keep on thinking so until I saw just how she intended to play them.
    I got my hat and coat, watched for an opportunity to get out when Alta couldn’t see me and decided to go take a look at the joints run by the Atlee Amusement Corporation.
    They had two restaurants, very swank downstairs, and I didn’t have much trouble getting upstairs. The places were well fitted but small. No one seemed to pay any particular attention to me. I gambled in a small way and just about broke even on roulette. There were a few people in the place. I tried to make some excuse to get to see the manager, but it looked as though I’d have to get rough in order to do it.
    Just as I was walking out of the joint, a blonde came in on the arm of a chap in evening clothes who looked like ready money.
    I’d seen that hair before. It was Esther Clarde, the girl at the cigar counter of the hotel where Ringold had been bumped off.
    I started kicking myself mentally. It was a chance, of course, but a chance I should have foreseen. If she’d known enough about the Atlee Amusement Corporation to answer my questions, there at the hotel, she knew enough to get a commission out of piloting suckers into the joint. I’d set my own trap, baited it, and walked right in.
    She looked at me, and I saw her eyes get hard. She said casually, “Oh, hello, there. How’s the luck? Any good?”
    “Not so good.”
    She smiled at her companion and said, “Arthur, I want you to meet Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith, this is Arthur Parker.”
    We shook hands. I told him I was pleased to meet him.
    “You’re not getting ready to go, Mr. Smith?”
    “As a matter of fact, I was.”
    “Well, you’re not going to leave just as I come in. You usually bring me luck, and somehow I feel you’re going to bring me lots of it tonight.”
    I thought I could complicate the situation by making Parker jealous. I looked at him and said, “Mr. Parker looks like a very capable mascot.”
    She said, “He’s my escort. You’re my mascot. Come on over here to the tables.”
    “Really, I’m a bit tired and—”
    Her eyes bored steadily into mine. The light caught her hair, and it looked more than ever like that piece of hangman’s hemp that I’d seen years ago. “I’m not going to let you get away,” she said, laughing with her red lips, “even if I have to call the cops.”
    There was no laughter in her eyes.
    I smiled and said, “Well, after all, that’s really up to Mr. Parker. I never like to horn in.”
    “Oh, it’s all right by him,” she said. “Parker understands that you’re connected with the establishment.”
    “Oh,” Parker said, as though that explained a lot, and instantly began to smile. “Do come along, Smith, and bring us luck.”
    I strolled over to the roulette table with her.
    She started playing with silver dollars—and losing. Parker didn’t seem inclined to stake her. When she’d lost her money, she pouted a little, and he finally got five dollars in twenty-five-cent chips and let her play those.
    When he had moved around nearer the foot of the table, and she had edged closer to me, she suddenly turned and again let her eyes bore into mine. “Slip me two hundred dollars under the table,” she ordered.
    I gave her the stony stare.
    “Come on, come on,” she said in a fast undertone. “Don’t act dumb, and don’t stall. Either come through, or else.”
    I managed a yawn.
    She could have cried she was so disappointed. She slammed the chips down on the board and lost them.
    When they were gone, I