Hanline said: “Maybe he’s at Ansel’s — but they won’t answer the phone there after ten.”
“Who’s Ansel?”
Hanline started to answer but Gowdy interrupted him: “Did you know Rose was backing Ansel?” Gowdy was looking at Fenner.
Fenner shook his head, spoke to Kells: “Ansel runs a couple crap games down on Santa Monica Boulevard — Dickinson plays there quite a bit.”
Kells said: “So Dickie is a gambler?”
Hanline laughed. “I’ll bet he’s made a hundred thousand dollars with the dirt racket in the last year,” he said. “And I’ll bet he hasn’t got a dollar and a quarter.”
Kells smiled at Fenner. “You ought to take better care of your hired men,” he said. Then he got up, finished his drink and put on his hat. “I’ll go over and see if I can find him.” Beery said: “I’ll come along.” Kells shook his head slightly.
Hanline stood up, stretched, said: “It’s the second or third building on the south side of the street, west of Gardner — used to be a scene painter’s warehouse or something like that — upstairs.”
“Thanks.” Kells asked Fenner: “Dickinson’s the guy that was typewriting at the place downtown?”
Fenner nodded.