The Blue Movie Murders by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online Page A

decided. “Pick up your friend here and get moving. I don’t want to see your face again.”
    Tanner took a step closer, wrapping a grimy handkerchief around his bleeding fingers. “That’s twice in one day, mister. You been askin’ for it.”
    â€œGet going before I change my mind and run you all in.”
    They helped the fallen man into the car as McCall watched. Then they gunned the motor and shot out of the parking lot. McCall walked over to George Watts.
    â€œYou probably saved my life,” the black man told him.
    McCall handed back the gun. “Got a licence for that?”
    â€œAs much of a licence as you need in Rockview these days. Half the city goes around armed.”
    â€œWhat about Mann Photo? The blue movies?”
    But George Watts had become cautious. “Later, man. I gotta think this out. I got a wife and kids, and I gotta make sure they stay safe.”
    McCall sighed. He knew there was no budging the man. “All right. I’ll be at the motel, when you think you can talk.”
    He watched the man walk quickly to his car, thinking that he’d already learned enough to confirm a key fact. They were making sex films at Mann Photo, with or without the knowledge of Xavier Mann.
    It was hard to believe he’d been in Rockview for less than twelve hours. Whole days seemed to stretch endlessly behind him, with Cynthia Rhodes leading the parade. He’d had two run-ins with Tanner and his strikers, and he knew they’d be seeing more of each other. And if he was no closer to finding Sol Dahlman, at least he had gained some knowledge of the city and of the people who ran it.
    Climbing into the motel bed a few hours later he knew even more. He’d spent the evening reading a few Chamber of Commerce publications that the motel thoughtfully supplied to each room. One of them had carried a brief biography of Mayor Frank Jordan. It seemed that prior to entering politics he’d been the plant manager at Mann Photo Service.
    McCall had set his mental alarm clock to awaken him at eight o’clock in the morning, and so when the bedside phone rang he knew it was not yet that hour. He rolled over between the sheets, looking for his watch, and saw that it was just past 7.30. Years of training as an investigator had taught him to always check the time when an unexpected event took place.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œThis is Sam Holland, Mike.”
    â€œYes, Governor.”
    â€œHow’s the investigation going?”
    â€œSlowly. There’s labour trouble here—a strike at Mann Photo Service—and the city’s uptight about it.”
    â€œHave you talked to anyone about this Dahlman fellow?”
    â€œI’ve talked to everybody I could find, but no luck yet. If Dahlman killed Sloane, he’s staying under cover. I learned, though, that this photo plant owned by Xavier Mann has been the source of blue movies. Apparently The Wild Nymph was filmed there twenty years ago, and they’ve been active ever since.”
    â€œInteresting.”
    â€œDo you know Mann, Governor? He seems to be the big-wig around here.”
    â€œI may have heard the name, but I don’t remember meeting him. Mike, the reason I called—”
    â€œYes, Governor?”
    â€œThe morning paper here carries an account of Ben Sloane’s murder. Somehow the reporter who wrote it found out that you’ve gone up there. His last paragraph reads: ‘Governor Holland’s personal troubleshooter, Micah McCall, is rumoured to be on his way to Rockview, to personally handle the investigation on the Governor’s behalf.’”
    â€œOh, great!”
    â€œIt might not make you too popular with the local police, Mike.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I’ll handle them.”
    â€œThere’s one other thing, Mike.”
    â€œMore good news?”
    â€œCynthia Rhodes and her people are sniffing around this whole business. If they