CARPENTER TALKS TERMS
FAR from the chaos of the Club Catalina, two men were seated in the living room of a suite in the Hotel Pavilion. Herbert Carpenter and Gifford Morton had not tarried long in the crowded night club. They had left there before the shooting had begun.
On the side of the hotel most distant from the club, these men did not hear the outburst of remote gunshots. They were quietly engaged in conversation, while they sipped mixed drinks from tall glasses.
“An excellent evening, Herbert,” observed Morton.
“Ten thousand dollars is a tidy sum. You were lucky, too, were you not?”
“About fifteen hundred to the good,” returned Carpenter, as he idly lighted a cigarette. “Yes, I agree with you — ten thousand dollars is a good sum of money.”
Gifford Morton shot a quizzical stare at his companion. He changed his expression as Carpenter looked in his direction.
“By the way, Herbert,” said Morton, in an offhand manner, “it was your suggestion that we come here. I prepared for your visit by having the refreshments sent up in advance. Now that we are away from the crowd, I suppose that you have something that you would like to discuss with me?”
“I have,” responded Carpenter.
“Does it involve money?” asked Morton suddenly.