I stood staring at the door after he’d closed it. Evidently Carter didn’t know just when the murder had been committed, hadn’t noticed the exact time that he’d seen Alta, or else was willing to dress the story up a little bit in order to give Mrs. Ashbury a trump card.
However, there was no use worrying about him. Any time the police got the idea Alta might be mixed up in it, they would have a cinch. The night clerk at the hotel, the girl at the cigar counter, the man at the parking lot, the elevator boy — oh, there were plenty of witnesses. The nice part of it was that those witnesses would have to swear that Alta had left the hotel before the shots were fired, but if Mrs. Ashbury thought she had a fistful of trumps, there was no reason why I shouldn’t let her keep on thinking so until I saw just how she intended to play them.
I got my hat and coat, watched for an opportunity to get out when Alta couldn’t see me and decided to go and take a look at the joints run by the Atlee Amusement Corporation.
They had two restaurants, very swank downstairs, and I didn’t have much trouble getting upstairs. The places were well fitted but small. No one seemed to pay any particular attention to me. I gambled in a small way and just about broke even on roulette. There were a few people in the place. I tried to make some excuse to get to see the manager, but it looked as though I’d have to get rough in order to do it.
Just as I was walking out of the joint, a blonde came in on the arm of a chap in evening clothes who looked like ready money.
I’d seen that hair before. It was Esther Clarde, the girl at the cigar counter of the hotel where Ringold had been bumped off.
I started kicking myself mentally. It was a chance, of course, but a chance I should have foreseen. If she’d known enough about the Atlee Amusement Corporation to answer my questions, there at the hotel, she knew enough to get a commission out of piloting suckers into the joint. I’d set my own trap, baited it, and walked right in.
She looked at me, and I saw her eyes get hard. She said casually, “Oh, hello, there. How’s the luck? Any good?”
“Not so good.”
She smiled at her companion and said, “Arthur, I want you to meet Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith, this is Arthur Parker.”