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datatime: 2022-09-29 03:35:27 Author:VEQkNmAl

The color flowed away from her face. and left her as pale as ice. Her mouth quivered, then tightened up hard into a little knot. She pushed her chair back and leaned forward to get up.

"Who could prove it?" she half squealed. "Who's alive to prove it? You? Who are you? A cheap shyster, a nobody." She went off into a shrill peal of laughter. "Why even twenty dollars buys you."

"Amigo, are you all right?"

I poked at the paper with a pencil to keep it burning. She came slowly, step by step, to the desk and her eyes were fixed on the little smoldering heap of torn prints.

Suddenly she spoke rapidly. "I couldn't give you this money I have, really I couldn't. We-well mother and I owe money still on account of father and the house isn't clear and-"

"Leila told me she told him," I said. "If necessary Leila would tell the world she told him. Just as she would tell the world she killed Steelgrave-if that was the only way out. Leila is a sort of free-and-easy Hollywood babe that doesn't have very good morals. But when it comes to bedrock guts-she has what it takes. She's not the icepick type. And she's not the blood-money type."

"I could tell them who shot Steelgrave," I said. "Because I know who didn't. They might believe me."

"One thing I regret," I said. "Not seeing your meeting back in Manhattan, Kansas, with dear old Mom. Not seeing the fight over how to split that grand. I bet that would be something to watch."

There was a sound in the background. I swung around and saw the door click shut. I was alone in the room.

"Who could prove it?" she half squealed. "Who's alive to prove it? You? Who are you? A cheap shyster, a nobody." She went off into a shrill peal of laughter. "Why even twenty dollars buys you."

"I could tell them who shot Steelgrave," I said. "Because I know who didn't. They might believe me."

I didn't say anything. I relit my pipe.

Suddenly she spoke rapidly. "I couldn't give you this money I have, really I couldn't. We-well mother and I owe money still on account of father and the house isn't clear and-"

"Amigo, are you all right?"

"You had one thing to sell," I said. "You knew where Orrin was. To Steelgrave that information was worth a grand. Easy. It's a question of connecting up evidence. You wouldn't understand. Steelgrave went down there and killed him. He paid you the money for the address."

She stopped dead, frozen in a kind of horror. I started to tear the pictures up into strips. I grinned at her.

"Leila told me she told him," I said. "If necessary Leila would tell the world she told him. Just as she would tell the world she killed Steelgrave-if that was the only way out. Leila is a sort of free-and-easy Hollywood babe that doesn't have very good morals. But when it comes to bedrock guts-she has what it takes. She's not the icepick type. And she's not the blood-money type."

The telephone rang and she jumped a foot. I turned and reached for it and put my face against it and said, "Hello."

"Amigo, are you all right?"

The small head jerked up. The light glinted on the glasses. There were no eyes behind them.

"What did you sell Steelgrave for the grand?"

I poked at the paper with a pencil to keep it burning. She came slowly, step by step, to the desk and her eyes were fixed on the little smoldering heap of torn prints.

"What did you sell Steelgrave for the grand?"

I didn't say anything. I relit my pipe.

She stood rigid and glaring. I finished my tearing-up job and lit the scraps of paper in the tray.

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