She nodded. She wasn’t listening to him. She had things to say. “I ran back here when I left Fenner’s. I picked up the stuff at the office — had to wait till the manager got the combination to the safe out of his apartment. Then I came up here to wait for you.”
She drank, put the glass on the floor. She turned, inclined her head toward Bellmann. “He was like that. He must have come here for the pictures — he’d been through my things...”
Kells said: “Never mind, baby — it’s a set up...”
“I didn’t do it!” She beat her fist on the arm of the chair. Her eyes were suddenly wild.
Kells stood up.
Beery finished his report, hung up the receiver. He said: “Now I better call the station.”
“Wait a minute.” Kells looked down at Granquist and his face was white, hard. “Listen!” he emphasized the word with one violent finger. “You be nice. You play this the way I say and you’ll be out in a month — maybe I can even get you out on bail...”
He turned abruptly and went to the door, turned the key. “Or” — he jerked his head toward the door, looked at the little watch on the inside of his wrist — “there’s a Frisco bus out Cahuenga in about six minutes. You can make it — and ruin your case.”
Outside, sultry thunder rumbled and rain whipped against the windows. Kells slid a note off the sheaf in his breast pocket, went over and handed it to her. It was a thousand dollar note.
She looked at it dully, slowly stood up. Then she stuffed the note into the pocket of her suit and went quickly to the chair where Kells had thrown her coat.