“What’s more convenient about it?” Bauer growled.
“He made the speech about eight-thirty last night in New York,” she explained patiently. “That’s five-thirty here, which isn’t a very good time, so they put it on again this morning. Public service, the radio people call it.”
“It’d be more of a public service if they’d broadcast a game from the Polo Grounds out here right now,” Bauer said.
“Well, do you want to get started?” Conway asked.
“H-mm?” A faraway look had come into the detective’s eyes, and he seemed to recall himself with an effort. “Oh — yeah,” he said rather uncertainly.
“Started at what?” Betty asked.
Conway was about to explain when Bauer interrupted. “I just happened to think of something,” he said. “I forgot it was Saturday — something I got to do before noon.” He was on his way to the door. “The other thing can wait — I’ll be out this afternoon sometime.”
Conway wondered what new inspiration had struck the detective, but Betty was more practical. “At least we don’t have to ask him to lunch,” she observed.
While she prepared the meal, Conway made a thorough search of Helen’s room. In a cardboard box, with some other costume jewelry, he found a pair of earrings he had never seen before; they were, he assumed, a gift from Taylor which she had thought it unwise to wear. Otherwise there was nothing, not even a scrap of paper, which could possibly have been a clue to the liaison with Taylor. Conway took some slight consolation from the fact that he had not been exceptionally stupid; he could see no reason why he should have known about, or even suspected, the affair.
After lunch he took Betty in the car and began searching for an apartment; late in the afternoon, after a dozen stops, he saw her walk toward the car smiling, for the first time since they had started out.