LITMIR.BIZ

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up my gun and brought it to me.

      “Hi,” he said. “Bad night in private-eye land, huh?”

      “I guess you could say that,” I said.

      “Well, can’t win ’em all. You know this Flannery much?”

      “I met him tonight. That’s it.”

      “Was he a good man?”

      “I don’t know. He handled himself all right.”

      “Was he having trouble with the girl?”

      “I have no idea. I couldn’t hear what they said. She doesn’t seem to remember. But he sure had some trouble with somebody.”

      Donovan glanced up the stairs.

      “You saw him get hit, you see anything at all up above?”

      “No, nothing.”

      “And you didn’t get upstairs to look around?”

      “No. There was Miss Farnum, and then—”

      “Did you see him all the way—going and coming?”

      “Yes.”

      “Well, when he went up the stairs, like he heard something—did he seem anxious? Careful?”

      “No,” I said. “He went up as if it were routine, as if a door had blown open or as if somebody he knew had called to him.”

      “Uh-huh. And he just walked away from the girl and went up there?”

      “Yeah. Of course there was nobody around and he didn’t go far.”

      “Yeh. About these two that come in off the alley—”

      “I don’t know. They looked—well, between us, they looked like a couple of punks with a mission.”

      “Could they have got Flannery from up there and then got around to the alley here in that length of time?”

      “Well,” I said, “if there was a window up there and it was open, I suppose they could have hit Flannery, jumped out the window and that way they might have done it. But it’s a two-story jump, and I doubt it. Neither of them was limping.”

      Donovan stared at the wall beside my head.

      “This meeting tonight,” he said. “Any ruckus, hecklers, anything like that?”

      “Nothing to speak of. The house was about two-thirds full. It was a good enthusiastic house, from what I could hear. I didn’t hear any comment from the Congressman, so I don’t know what he thought about it. The meeting started ten minutes late, about twenty to nine, and he talked for an hour and then there were questions. I didn’t hear much of it. I didn’t hear any argumentative stuff. There was quite a lot of applause.”

      “Who was on the platform with him?”

      “Nobody I ever heard of. Nobody from the city government. I think there were a couple of downstate people from the legislature. There was some doctor—medical doctor—I don’t remember the names. They’d be on the printed program, I guess. Three or four people said a few words and I think it was this doctor who introduced the Congressman. That’s how I remember it.”

      “How did Weaver have his men deployed?”

      “We had two in front, on the street, one at each side entrance, inside; two in the lobby, two backstage and two at the rear in the alley.”

      Donovan’s face wrinkled.

      “That’s a lot of expensive protection, isn’t it, for a simple political speech, with a friendly crowd?”

      “I guess so. Weaver explained to me that the Congressman had run into some heckling on two previous occasions, and there was something about some threatening letters—”

      “You see the letters?”

      “No. Weaver mentioned them. The heavy guard was preventive, I guess. There was a potential, you understand?”

      “I guess so. What I’m trying to get at here—how come Weaver would hire you? He’s got plenty of guys in that agency. What does he need with a special like you?”

      “Cut it out.”

      “I’m serious.”

      “I don’t know,” I said. “He called me and asked me and I didn’t have anything else to do. I took it for granted he was short and needed an extra man.”

      “Okay. He had you all around the building, covering all the doors and stuff. What about the Congressman, the daughter?”

      “We had no responsibility for that. The daughter had Flannery. If the Congressman had a personal bodyguard, I never knew who it was.”

      Donovan studied the blank face of the concrete wall.

      “Where’s the daughter now?”

      “In there somewhere, with Weaver.”

      “What is she waiting for?”

      I looked at the floor.

      “Me,” I said.

      “Why?”

      I looked at Donovan.

      “I wish to God I knew,” I said.

      “Well, let’s go,” he said. “Maybe we can find out.”

      We headed for the door to the stage corridor.

      “Lieutenant—?”

      The sergeant was on the landing. He started down the steps. He carried a pistol, dangling from a loop of string worked through the trigger guard. Donovan and I waited.

      “Found this upstairs in a service closet,” the sergeant said. “Just thrown in there.”

      Donovan looked at the gun without touching it.

      “All right,” he said. “Anything else?”

      “There’s an empty office next to the closet. Name on the door reads ‘Caldwell Enterprises,’ but the watchman says they moved out last week. The door was unlocked and there was a window open.”

      “Where was the window?”

      “In the back, over the alley.”

      “Two flights up,” Donovan said.

      “Yes, Lieutenant. But there was a truck parked in the alley under the window. A van truck, stood about ten feet high. Very easy jump in two stages.”

      “Okay,” Donovan said. “Hang onto the truck. If the driver shows up, hang onto him.”

      “Right,” the sergeant said.

      Donovan gave me a push and we went backstage, looking for Weaver and Miss Farnum.

      They were in the green room, an offstage lounge, long out of use, heavy with the odor of paint and dusty fabric. Miss Farnum had shed her fur and sat on the edge of a sagging couch with her blond hair around her face. It was a nice face as to shape and organization, but her expression was closed, wooden, not especially attractive. Weaver, looking tired, sat backward on a straight chair, resting his chin on his crossed arms over the back. Standing, his back to the door as we entered, was a man from City News Service, making notes in a pad.

      “Has your father been informed of this crime, Miss Farnum?” he asked.

      “I guess so,” she said.

      “You haven’t been in touch with him?”

      “No.” She looked up, caught sight of Donovan and me and her chin stiffened. “They won’t let me out of here.”

      Weaver’s head came up.

      “That’s not true,” he said. “I offered to send her to her father with a

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