anyway! He was now officially overdue on his call in. Not that Hawk gave a damn about a niggeling matter like that — but he wanted to get this affair settled, one way or the other, and he couldn't do it without Nick. He was as determined as ever that Nick have the final say-so in killing, or not killing, Richard Philston.
At ten of eleven Delia Stokes came into his office, a puzzled look on her face. Hawk was just tossing away a half-masticated cigar. He saw her expression and said, "What?"
Delia shrugged. "I don't know exactly what, sir. But I don't believe it — and you're not going to believe it."
Hawk scowled. "Try me."
Delia cleared her throat. "I finally got on to the bell captain at the Mayflower. I had a hard time finding him, and then he didn't want to talk — he likes Nick and was trying to protect him, I suppose — but I finally wormed something out of him. Nick left the hotel a little after nine this morning. He was drunk. Roaring drunk. And — this is the part you won't believe — he was with four Girl Scouts."
The cigar drooped. Hawk stared at her. "He was with who?"
"I told you — he was with four Girl Scouts. Japanese Girl Scouts. He was so drunk that the scouts, the Japanese Girl Scouts, had to help him through the lobby."
All Hawk did was blink. Three times. Then he said: "Who have we got standing by for local duty?"
"There's Tom Ames. And..."
"Ames will do. Send him over to the Mayflower right away. Get that bell captain's story confirmed or denied. Put a top hush on this, Delia, and start the routine procedure for missing operatives. That's all. Oh, when Cecil Aubrey and Terence show up let them come straight in."
"Yes, sir." She went out and closed the door. Delia knew when to leave David Hawk alone with his bitter thoughts.
Tom Ames was a good man. Careful, thorough-going, overlooking nothing. It was one o'clock when he reported back to Hawk. In the meantime Hawk had stalled Aubrey once again — and had been keeping the wires hot. So far nothing.
Ames sat in the same hard chair Nick Carter had occupied yesterday morning. Ames was a rather sad-looking man with a face that reminded Hawk of a lonely bloodhound.
"It's true about the Girl Scouts, sir. There were four of them. Japanese Girl Scouts. They were selling cookies in the hotel. It isn't allowed, normally, but the assistant manager let them slip through. Good neighbor relations and all that. And they did sell
some
cookies. I..."
Hawk restrained himself, barely. "Skip the cookies, Ames. Stick to Carter. He left with these Girl Scouts? He was seen going through the lobby with them? He was drunk?"
Ames swallowed. "Well, yes, sir. He was certainly noticed, sir. He fell down three times getting through the lobby. He had to be helped up by the, er, Girl Scouts. Mr. Carter was singing and dancing, sir, and yelling a little. It also appears that he had a lot of cookies, sorry, sir, but that's the way I got it — he had a lot of cookies and he was trying to sell them in the lobby."
Hawk closed his eyes. This profession got nuttier every day. "Go on."
"That's about it, sir. That's what happened. Well confirmed. I got statements from the bell captain, the assistant manager, two chamber maids and a Mr. and Mrs. Meredith Hunt who were just checking in from Indianapolis. I..."
Hawk held up a hand that trembled slightly. "Skip that, too. Where did Carter and his — his entourage go after that? I presume they didn't soar away in a balloon or anything sensible like that?"
Ames shoved his sheaf of depositions back into an inner pocket.
"No, sir. They took a taxi."
Hawk opened his eyes and looked expectant. "Well?"
"Nothing, sir. The usual routine didn't turn up anything. The bell captain watched the Girl Scouts help Mr. Carter into the taxi, but he didn't notice anything in particular about the driver, and he didn't think to get the license number. I talked to the other drivers in the rank, of course. Bad luck there. There was only one
At ten of eleven Delia Stokes came into his office, a puzzled look on her face. Hawk was just tossing away a half-masticated cigar. He saw her expression and said, "What?"
Delia shrugged. "I don't know exactly what, sir. But I don't believe it — and you're not going to believe it."
Hawk scowled. "Try me."
Delia cleared her throat. "I finally got on to the bell captain at the Mayflower. I had a hard time finding him, and then he didn't want to talk — he likes Nick and was trying to protect him, I suppose — but I finally wormed something out of him. Nick left the hotel a little after nine this morning. He was drunk. Roaring drunk. And — this is the part you won't believe — he was with four Girl Scouts."
The cigar drooped. Hawk stared at her. "He was with who?"
"I told you — he was with four Girl Scouts. Japanese Girl Scouts. He was so drunk that the scouts, the Japanese Girl Scouts, had to help him through the lobby."
All Hawk did was blink. Three times. Then he said: "Who have we got standing by for local duty?"
"There's Tom Ames. And..."
"Ames will do. Send him over to the Mayflower right away. Get that bell captain's story confirmed or denied. Put a top hush on this, Delia, and start the routine procedure for missing operatives. That's all. Oh, when Cecil Aubrey and Terence show up let them come straight in."
"Yes, sir." She went out and closed the door. Delia knew when to leave David Hawk alone with his bitter thoughts.
Tom Ames was a good man. Careful, thorough-going, overlooking nothing. It was one o'clock when he reported back to Hawk. In the meantime Hawk had stalled Aubrey once again — and had been keeping the wires hot. So far nothing.
Ames sat in the same hard chair Nick Carter had occupied yesterday morning. Ames was a rather sad-looking man with a face that reminded Hawk of a lonely bloodhound.
"It's true about the Girl Scouts, sir. There were four of them. Japanese Girl Scouts. They were selling cookies in the hotel. It isn't allowed, normally, but the assistant manager let them slip through. Good neighbor relations and all that. And they did sell
some
cookies. I..."
Hawk restrained himself, barely. "Skip the cookies, Ames. Stick to Carter. He left with these Girl Scouts? He was seen going through the lobby with them? He was drunk?"
Ames swallowed. "Well, yes, sir. He was certainly noticed, sir. He fell down three times getting through the lobby. He had to be helped up by the, er, Girl Scouts. Mr. Carter was singing and dancing, sir, and yelling a little. It also appears that he had a lot of cookies, sorry, sir, but that's the way I got it — he had a lot of cookies and he was trying to sell them in the lobby."
Hawk closed his eyes. This profession got nuttier every day. "Go on."
"That's about it, sir. That's what happened. Well confirmed. I got statements from the bell captain, the assistant manager, two chamber maids and a Mr. and Mrs. Meredith Hunt who were just checking in from Indianapolis. I..."
Hawk held up a hand that trembled slightly. "Skip that, too. Where did Carter and his — his entourage go after that? I presume they didn't soar away in a balloon or anything sensible like that?"
Ames shoved his sheaf of depositions back into an inner pocket.
"No, sir. They took a taxi."
Hawk opened his eyes and looked expectant. "Well?"
"Nothing, sir. The usual routine didn't turn up anything. The bell captain watched the Girl Scouts help Mr. Carter into the taxi, but he didn't notice anything in particular about the driver, and he didn't think to get the license number. I talked to the other drivers in the rank, of course. Bad luck there. There was only one
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