“Killed?”
“Correct. He's done, and I had a hell of a time getting the body home, before the coroner and the police reporters got on the trail.”
Shirley lowered his high-ball glass, with an earnest stare.
“What was the idea?”
“Robbery, of course. His son had me on the case—'phoned from the garage where the chauffeur brought the body; after he saw the old man unconscious. Just half an hour before he had left his office in the same machine, after taking five thousand dollars in cash from his manager.”
“Who was with him?”
“Now, that's getting to brass tacks. When I gets that C.Q.D. from Van Cleft, I finds the young fellow inside the ring of rubbernecks, blubbering over the old man, where he lies on the floor of the taxi—looking soused.”
“He was a notorious old sport about town, Captain.”
“Sure—and I thinks, it sorter serves him right. But, that's his funeral, not mine. Van Cleft, junior, says to me: 'There's the girl that was with him.'”
“Where was the girl?”