“Think I’d make a thing like that up?” Benny said, looking at him with hurt, angry eyes. “Of course I’m sure. She’s livin’ with that guy in luxury. That’s what she’s always wanted. She was always bellyachin’ about doin’ the washin’ and lookin’ after the apartment. Now she’s got what she wants. The dirty little chippy.”
“You may be misjudging her, Perminger,” Jay reminded him. “She might have to be there.”
Benny sneered. “Don’t talk bull. I tell you I spoke to her. She just looked through me. She could have got away if she wanted to. She was by herself. I followed her to the hotel. I found out from the porter all about them. The guy’s name’s Cruise. She’s posin’ as his wife.”
Jay sat down limply. He felt the ground had been cut from under him. “Who is this guy Cruise?” he asked.
Benny shrugged. “I don’t know, an’ I don’t care. I ain’t goin’ to start anythin’ with him. If that’s the life she likes, she can have it. I’m through with her.”
Jay got slowly to his feet. He felt that it was only wasting time. He said, “Well, I’m sorry, Perminger. It’s tough,” and shook hands.
Out in the street he paused before getting into his car. On the face of it it looked as if the whole of the business had fallen to pieces. The only thing he had to go on was Fletcher’s testimony, and Fletcher was dead.
He got in the car and engaged the gears.
Who was this Cruise? Had he anything to do with Grantham? Could it be possible that Perminger’s wife had really gone off with him and had made up the note about going to police headquarters? It didn’t seem likely. There was something wrong there. He made up his mind abruptly to take a look at Cruise. If he looked all right, then he’d try some other angle, but if he didn’t, then he’d keep a watch on him.
He drove over to the St. Louis Hotel and parked. He knew the house dick and went straight to his little office.