“No, but nothing goes on at the Coral Court that I don’t know about. Nothing important, anyway. I own the place—Jack Carr.”

He offered a hand.

I took it. “Pleasure, Mr. Carr.”

That was a working man’s hand, as dry and callused as his attitude.

But his tone couldn’t have been more casual. “I could put you back in your old room—50-A, if you like.”

Now he was just showing off.

“Not necessary,” I said. “I’m not terribly sentimental when it comes to kidnapping cases, especially when they lead to child murder. But I would like to ask you a few questions.”

He shrugged, then nodded toward the coffee station. “Okay. Care for some joe?”

“As in Costello? Is that who called you and said I’d be coming? He’d have been told by Barney Baker, who was real casual about asking me where I’d be staying.”

The gun-metal eyes were sleepy but they didn’t blink much. “So, then, no coffee?”

“Wouldn’t wanna be up all night. It’s been a long day.”

“Nightcap, maybe? What’s your poison, Mr. Heller?”

“Any rum, Mr. Carr. Bacardi, if you’ve got it.”

“I do, and I’ll join you.” He gestured vaguely. “Have a seat. I’ll switch off the vacancy sign and then be right back.”

As he disappeared through the private door behind the counter, I selected one of two seats at a round low table with Holiday magazines fanned out.

I was just starting to wonder about how long putting together a couple of nightcaps could take when he emerged with two motel water glasses with several fingers of rum in each. He held both glasses out to me, to make the choice mine—maybe he thought I suspected he’d brought me a Mickey Finn-laced nightcap. I took the one in his left hand, and he sat. His smile was something a guy with no sense of humor had learned to do.

“Mr. Heller, this—right here, right now—is your opportunity to talk to me. I am a busy man. I do my own books. I oversee this property, work the desk myself at times, and do all the landscaping.”

“Landscaping, huh? You do a nice job of it.”

He nodded modest thanks. “Every bush, every tree, is my personal doing. Most guests think I’m the gardener. I find it relaxing. I like creating a pleasant atmosphere for my guests. What I don’t like to do is talk.”

“That may be the case, but you seem to be doing your share right now.”

The smile increased a few millimeters, then settled back down. “You mentioned Joe Costello. We’re old friends. We have a few common business interests. But we aren’t in business together. He has his cab company. And I have the Coral Court.”

“I appreciate your frankness.”

“I have the kind of establishment that requires discretion. At one time I did have a more serious business relationship with Joe and also with Buster…Buster Wortman? I have a certain capability with figures. With numbers. I did their bookkeeping for a while, until the Coral Court became so successful I didn’t need outside work.”