“I didn’t know she had left,” the fat man said. “She was here this morning. Well, that’s a relief off my mind. I would have had to put her out tomorrow: saves me a job.”
“Why?”
The fat man wheezed as he pushed a fat finger into his ear and massaged it briskly.
“The usual reason. She was three weeks behind on her rent.”
Conrad rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.
“What do you know about her? When did she come here?”
“A month ago. Said she was a movie extra.” The fat man swept the spread-out cards into a little heap, picked them up and began to shuffle them. “Couldn’t get anything cheap in Hollywood: anyway, cheap enough for her. She was a nice girl. If I had a daughter I’d like her to be like her. Nice way of talking, nice looks, quiet, well-behaved.” He lifted his fat shoulders. “But no money. It’s the bad ones who have the dough, I guess. I told her to go home, but she wouldn’t listen. She promised to have the money for me by tomorrow morning for certain. Looks like she didn’t get it, doesn’t it?”
“That’s the way it looks,” Conrad said. He suddenly felt tired. Why should an out-of-work movie extra call on June Arnot, he wondered, except for a touch? She probably never got farther than the guard-house. It was unlikely June Arnot would have seen her.
He glanced at his watch. It was just after midnight.
“Well, thanks.” He pushed himself away from the door post. “That’s all I want to know.”