‘Don’t kid yourself. They worked over him until he looked as if he had been fed through a mincer.
Nothing anyone did to him — and they did plenty — could make him open his trap.’
‘Aw, the hell with this!’ Olin said impatiently. ‘I’ve got me a murder to solve. What do you want this car owner for?’
‘A couple of years back, the Maharajah died,’ Dal as explained. ‘His son came into the estate. This guy has his own ideas of how to live, and he’s been throwing his father’s money around like a drunken sailor. Rumour has it he’s run through half the old man’s fortune already. Without warning he suddenly turns up here. The insurance companies have the idea he’s over here to contact Hater. They think he’s going to do a deal with Hater somehow or other.’
Olin stared.
‘What sort of deal?’
‘They think Hater would be glad to sell the stuff back to the Rajah at a price. They argue the Rajah could get rid of it far easier than Hater could. From what they hear about the Rajah they think he’s quite capable of sticking to both the jewels and the insurance money. Personally, I think it’s a lot of phooey, but you can’t tell these insurance birds anything. They’ve hired us to watch the Rajah, and report to them who he’s seeing while he’s here. Up to now the only two he has seen are the man and woman who left his hotel in this LaSalle. I want to know who they are.’
‘Well, I guess I’d better do something about it,’ Olin said, reaching for his phone. ‘Purvis has done me a lot of good in the past. How is the lug, anyway?’
‘Just the same,’ Dal as said gloomily. ‘Doesn’t spend a nickel more than he can help, and still thinks a woman’s place is in the kitchen, and no place else.’
‘That’s Purvis all right. He gave me a box of cigars last Christmas I swear he made himself.’