Murder on Location by Howard Engel

around then that William Blacklock of Detroit saw a woman wearing big round sunglasses and a tailored suit leaving the scene: dark hair, between thirty-five and forty, five-feet three or four, hundred and twenty, hundred and thirty pounds. I’ve got a man on that. Sound familiar?” It did, but I decided to let Chris’ boy run it down without my help. To make up for that I filled Savas in on all the things I knew about the case that didn’t run across my territory and I was back on the street around noon, starving. In a glorified hamburger stand between a wax museum devoted to the history of crime and a parking lot, I ordered French fries, a glass of milk, and vanilla ice cream. The best thing about the place wasn’t on the menu: there was a pay telephone in a place where the wind didn’t freeze your ankles.
    I dialled the number of my client and listened to the electronic buzzing while watching a freight train crawl between the legs of the Pagoda across the street.The tower straddled the main track of the railway which crossed Clifton Hill at this point.
    â€œMr. Mason?”
    â€œYes.” I could imagine a salesman’s smile on his face. And I made it go away.
    â€œIt’s Benny Cooperman. I thought I’d better give you a report about what’s been happening around here.”
    â€œGlad to hear from you. Where are you calling from? I’ve left word with your answering service but …”
    â€œI’m at the Falls. I’ve managed to trace your wife to a writer-actor fellow from Grantham called Hayes. Name mean anything to you?”
    â€œNot off-hand. Is it important?”
    â€œImportant enough for somebody to shoot Hayes this morning. Billie left Grantham with Hayes and came here. Then she ditched him.”
    â€œMr. Cooperman. This thing has gone too far. I want out, and I want you off the case.”
    â€œOkay, you’re calling the tunes. But how is that going to look to a judge? You hire me, I trace Billie to Hayes, and then suddenly Hayes gets dead and you tidy me away telling me to keep the change. It stinks, Mason, and you’re smart enough to see it. You’re the aggrieved party in this. So far I’ve managed to keep your name out of it, but I can only stall the cops so long, and then I’ll have to come clean. I’d make sure I knew where I was around six this morning if I were you. You’ve got the oldest motive in the world for shooting Hayes, and the sanctity of the home is no defence.”
    â€œYou’ve already talked to the police?”
    â€œThey insisted.”
    â€œAnd next time you’ll have to tell them about Billie and me?”
    â€œI still have a few hours. Meanwhile, I want you to come clean with me about why you were worried about Billie disappearing. The real reason.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œYou understand fine. We don’t have time for parlour games. I’m coming to see you at your office around 6:30 tonight. And when I see you, I want to have a real heart-to-heart about lots of things besides Billie’s acting career.”
    â€œAs for instance?”
    â€œAs for instance why you were worried she might have been murdered. As for instance why you’re letting me play with less than half a deck. I want you to tell me the whole story when I see you, without skipping any chapters this time.”
    â€œLook, Cooperman …”
    â€œSave it until 6:30. I may even bring you some good news. You never know.”

EIGHT
    At five o’clock I was sitting in the basement coffee shop of the Colonel John Butler Hotel. In a nearby booth an old woman, her red hair covered by a chiffon scarf, shot a disapproving glance at two skinny youngsters in T-shirts who were playing with, rather than eating, large ice cream sundaes. The woman’s features were hard and set, her gloved hands rested stiffly on the leather handbag on her lap.
    The Colonel John did