I said, “When did you last see Evaline Harris alive?”
She said, “About twenty-four hours before she was murdered. I told her to watch out for Alftmont.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew he was dangerous.”
“Then you knew that Alftmont could find her?”
She squinted her eyes. “I knew some detectives were working on the case. I found out that Evaline had been a greedy little bitch, and couldn’t resist the temptation of trying to pick up a piece of change from the railroad company. That was the worst of Evaline. You could never trust her. Lots of the girls in her racket pick up steady boy friends who make regular donations — not Evaline. She was too greedy, and she couldn’t resist blackmail. As soon as she’d get her hooks into some nice young chap, she’d find out all about him, and then start blackmailing. You couldn’t control her for a minute. She couldn’t control herself. It was like dope. She wanted to chisel.”
I said, “When the police found her body in the apartment, they found she’d been on an all-night party and was sleeping late. The newspaper was under the door. That means she hadn’t got up. There were cigarette stubs and an ash tray by the bed. One of them had lipstick on it. One of them didn’t.
“Evaline slept with a package of cigarettes and matches by the bed. She always had a cigarette first thing after she woke up. I know that.
“Now then, I figure someone went to see Evaline. It was someone she knew. She sat down on the bed, and they talked. The talk didn’t go to suit this man, and he slipped a loop over her neck — and I think you know who that man was.”
“Sure, I do,” she said. “It was Dr. Alftmont. He’d traced her — probably through that claim she’d made to the railroad company. He went down to see her. He was willing to be reasonable with her, but he found out she was just a tool, that there were bigger game afoot. He couldn’t buy her off, so he croaked her. Now then, you can either get the hell out of here, or I’ll call the cops, and I mean it.”