“Friedl?” I exclaimed. “Is that you? What’s wrong?”

“Yes…come, please….” There was a muffled thud, as if the telephone had dropped from her hand, and after that nothing but silence.

I dropped my own phone and bolted for the door. No time to tell Tony—no time to do anything except get to her, as fast as I could. God, she had sounded as if she were being strangled, even while she was trying to speak to me.

The lobby was full of holiday celebrants, gathered around the tree in the center. The bar had spilled out into the lobby, and people were raising glasses, singing, and laughing. By contrast the private corridor was ominously quiet. Not a soul was visible, not a whisper came from Friedl’s apartment. The door to her sitting room was ajar. I eased it open.

Tony was bent over the couch—over something lying on the couch. Hearing me enter, he straightened and turned around. Great drops of perspiration beaded on his forehead, and his face was a horrible gray-green. But it wasn’t as bad as the face of the woman on the couch. I recognized her by her frizzy blond hair and by her clothing.

“She’s dead,” Tony said.

I touched Friedl’s wrist, searching for a pulse—a futile gesture, but one I felt I had to make. “She’s dead, all right. It must have happened within the past few minutes.”

“I didn’t do it,” Tony said. “She was on the floor—”

“You picked her up? Oh, Tony!”

“I didn’t think.” Tony raised one hand to his forehead. “She called me—asked me to come down here on the double—sounded absolutely frantic, I hardly recognized her voice. You believe me, don’t you?”

“I believe you.” My response was automatic. As I stared down at the swollen cyanotic face, I was remembering what John had said earlier that day. “If he ever finds out where it is…”

It would seem that he had found out.

And so had I. I could only marvel that it had taken me so long.

Ten

A CLICKING SOUND, LIKE CASTANETS, made me start. It was Tony’s teeth. Poor baby, he wasn’t accustomed to death in such an unattractive form.

Well, neither was I. They say one’s mind works with unnatural quickness in times of crisis. Mine doesn’t always oblige in that way, but I knew we were in deep trouble. Not that there was any danger of Tony’s being convicted for Friedl’s murder; he hadn’t done it and they couldn’t prove he had. This was a delaying tactic, and it was more than likely…

“Get out of here,” I ordered. “Quick, run.”

I followed my own advice, but Tony just stood there, frozen with shock. Before I could return to him and remove him forcibly, there was a crash of crockery and ringing metal. Instinctively I ducked behind the open door. One of the waitresses stood in the doorway. She hadn’t seen me; her bulging eyes were fixed on Friedl’s hideous face. The tray had fallen from her hands.