Lowry opened the door and pushed Carrol out with a hearty shove that sent him banging against the wall opposite the door. Then he closed the door and bolted it.

“Now,” he said to Terry. “All we have to do is open a window for some fresh air, and it’ll be as if he was never here.”

“Never mind the window, Ned,” she said excitedly. “Do you think we ought to let him get away?”

Lowry chuckled. “You don’t really want him around, do you?”

“No, of course not, silly. But he’s the man, Ned, can’t you see?

“I found out from one of the girls,” she added quickly. “There was a man Doris Blair called Buzzy. He was doing things for her in style or was going to. That must be Carrol. The man’s a chaser. His indifference to feminine charm is a pose.”

“What makes you so sure of that, Terry?” Lowry asked provocatively.

“I blundered into a room with him. I ought to know.”

“You may be right, but you’re drawing the wrong conclusion if it’s because Carrol made a pass at you. An anchorite would do that.”

“Ned, this is serious. Doris Blair worked for Carrol. That girl who told me about it said he had taken her in when she was starving. Who else would a girl meet in that environment who could do things for her? And who else would think of strangling her when she got to be too much of a nuisance?”

“Sounds good, Terry. What do you suggest?”

“Let’s go to the police.”

Lowry shook his head. “With what except our suspicions? Do we know for a fact that Carrol kept the girl? Is there any evidence? Do you suppose the police would be interested in that kind of suspect when they’ve already got a man who’s been identified? It will take more than that before we can go to them.” He looked at his watch. “It’s late but the landlady might not throw more than a broom or two at us. Suppose we hop over to the place where Doris lived. We might find something that will shed some light.”

“Do you know where she lived?”

“I’ve found out that much,” he said ruefully.

17

17

Lowry had his car outside. They drove downtown and stopped in a neighborhood of cheap hotels. Among them was a threestory brick building with a sign outside that read, “Rooms and Housekeeping Rooms.” Lowry and Terry went inside. It was musty and dingy and smelled of bad cooking. Lowry knocked at the door of an apartment marked “Manager.” A short stout woman came to the door.

“We got no more vacancies,” she said before Lowry could speak, “and anyway we don’t show rooms this time of the night.”

“Glad to know business is so good,” Lowry said. “But we weren’t looking for a vacancy. I’m Ned Lowry from the Gazette.”