Fedor grinned wryly.
“As you didn’t have to work for her for five interminable years you couldn’t know what it means.” He leaned forward and jabbed his forefinger in Bardin’s direction. “I’ll be damned if I’ll cry. Maybe I’ve lost my meal ticket, but I’ve also lost a goddamned pain in the neck. That bitch has been riding me to death. It was either her or me in the long run. I’ve got an ulcer because of her. You don’t know what I’ve had to put up with from that woman!”
“Someone hacked her head off,” Conrad said quietly. “Not content with that, he ripped her as well. Can you think of anyone who would do that to her?”
Fedor’s eyes popped.
“Good grief! Hacked her head off! For God’s sake! Why did he do that?”
“For the same reason he ripped her: he didn’t like her. Know anyone who’d dive off the deep end like that?”
Fedor’s eyes suddenly shifted.
“Can’t say I do. Hell! Have the press got this yet?”
“No, and they won’t get it until I have some more facts to work on,” Bardin said grimly. “Now look, if you do know someone who might fit, you’d better spill it. The quicker we shut this case down, the better for everyone, including you.”
Fedor hesitated, then shrugged."I guess that’s right. Ralph Jordan was her current lover. They have been having some mighty awful quarrels recently. This picture he’s making with June is his last. Pacific Pictures have torn up his contract. They’ve had more than enough of him.”