Drake said, “We’ve located Marcia Whittaker.”
“Good work, Paul. How did you do it?”
“Oh, just a lot of leg work,” Drake said wearily. “We covered the Bureau of Light, Water and Gas. She had an application in for electric lights and gas. It’s an unfurnished flat. She’s evidently buying furniture and settling down.”
Mason lit a cigarette and stared at the match for a long moment before shaking it out. “Marcia Whittaker’s this girl’s real name?” he asked.
“Yes. Why?”
Mason said, “As I get her character from your report, she’s a drifter. Now she gets a flat and starts buying furniture. What’s brought about this sudden stability?”
Drake hugged his knees. “Her split out of twenty thousand bucks.”
Mason slowly shook his head. “That would send her on a splurge, not make her settle down... Della, take a look at the papers — vital statistics. Just a chance, but maybe...”
The two men smoked in silence.
A few minutes later there was a triumphant grunt from Della. “This what you want? ‘L. C. Conway, 57, to Marcia Whittaker, 23.’ Notice of intention to wed.”