The Hardys found Earl's almost empty. A woman with a bucket and a brush was scrubbing the floor where Montgomery Harris had lain the night before. "They keep adding new stains on top of the old ones," she complained.
"What's the latest news on Mr. Harris?" asked Frank.
She didn't bother looking up at the brothers or altering the rhythm of her hard scrubbing. "They performed surgery to remove the bullet. They're keeping him in hospital for observation, they said." Joe caught sight of her thin arms and the veins standing out prominently on her hands. He noticed the strands of gray hair among the black.
"That's a hard job," Joe ventured to say.
She raised her head and eyed him with a steady gaze through her round spectacles. She said staunchly, "My boys can't get regular work. People do worse things to make ends meet." Joe could not help but think of his own comfortable upbringing, insulated from the deprivations of the Great Depression, on the pleasant, tree-lined streets of Bayport.
"We should call Prof. Coville at home to let him know the latest developments," said Frank to his brother, eyeing the phone on the counter.
"While you're at it, let Lt. Korman know that his case is definitely not a suicide anymore. We could use the N.Y.P.D.'s help finding Heinze."
After the calls the brothers sat at a table in the empty club. Shafts of light entered through small square windows high up on one wall.
Frank took three cigarette stubs out of small envelopes and arranged them on the table. The brothers had gone to the apartment building across the street from Heinze's. Some of the boards over the front entrance had been pried loose. Stepping inside, they saw on the white, hexagon-patterned tile floor of the hallway two cigarette butts.
"They could be the same brand," suggested Frank.
"But there are no distinctive markings on them," argued Joe. "We can't conclude that. Plus we don't know if they're from the smoker Olivia saw."
The musicians were assembling on the stage. "Where's Toots?" Joe asked.
Chester was setting up music stands. "Let's just say he's in a world of his own right now."
"You mean he's indulging in the use of drugs?" Joe guessed.
"Most likely. He said he was going to last night. He should be all right by showtime tonight."
At that moment Toots Mayall ambled into the room. He had a gray hat with a short red feather on the side, which he wore at an angle. Frank thought that the clean white shirt he had on might be new.
"We thought you'd be out like a light," said Chester.
Toots pretended to be flabbergasted. "You think I would waste this fine day lying on my couch barely able to keep my eyelids up? You think I would tie up my arm with a rubber hose and stick a needle into my veins? No, not this Toots, not these days. I'm strictly a recreational drug user now. Look at what the candyman brought." Toots was carrying a paper bag which he opened to show them. It was filled purple and green pills.
"These are the latest thing, Benzedrine in pill form. One of the marvels of modern chemical science. Pretty soon it'll be a fad with all you kids. It makes you think sharper, gives you energy." Toots grinned.
"It's a powerful drug prescribed for the treatment of psychological problems," warned Frank. "It's addictive and shouldn't be abused."
"Besides, this isn't any old junk you get from your corner dealer. These here pills are produced by the finest labs in America."
"What are the other ones?" inquired Joe.
"I think he said they're Phenobarbitol."
Frank was aghast. "An overdose of that will kill you or put you into a coma."
"Either your dealer is having a sale today or it seems you've come into some money recently," Joe remarked.
Toots glanced at his band mates. They were looking at their music sheets and pretending they weren't listening. Frank guessed that Toots might have thought of lying about his paycheck but the others would give him away. Toots, no longer grinning, took up a chair at the Hardys' table.
"Do you know Molly Mirkin?" Frank continued. "She writes for the Daily Telegram."
"Can't say I'm acquainted with the lady."
"This is what I'm thinking. You saw her story in the newspaper. You knew Heinze came to the club. Some time yesterday you contacted her and sold her the information. She met you outside the club during the break between sets. She's the white woman those gun-toting thugs saw you talking to. You're the 'source' she keeps reminding us she has."
"You've been doing a lot of thinking, but you've got it all wrong. I never read the Daily Telegram. I did talk to a woman outside but I don't know if her name is Molly or Sally or what have you."
"Can I ask what you talked about?" asked Frank.
"Would you believe she asked me about a song I played."
Joe was beginning to realize something. "On stage last night, whenever you weren't playing, your eyes were drawn to Olivia, as if you couldn't help yourself. I think you're in love with her. I think you were jealous when you heard Heinze had come back. You followed them back to his place on Thursday night. You're the one who knows his address and didn't keep it to yourself."
The musicians on stage could see that the discussion was going to continue for a while. They didn't want to eavesdrop. They left their music and went to the kitchen to get lunch.
"But he must have had the money earlier because he got his horn out of the pawnshop," Joe reminded his brother.
Frank nodded, remembering. "You were shopping your information around, weren't you? Who did you talk to, the Germans?"
"The Germans? Hell, no! Those Nazis hate us. They hate our music. We're degenerates to them. You think I would deal with them? They make my skin crawl."
"Then who gave you the money for the horn?"
Toots looked around vacantly, lifting his arms in a gesture of exasperation. "There's no getting rid of you guys once you've sunk your teeth into my leg, is there? Well, all right then. There's no reason for me to protect this guy. He gave his name as Lombard. Chester tells me that he and the German used to come down to the clubs to check out the music, years ago. I never knew him back then. He showed up here a couple of weeks ago. He was talking to the band, letting us know that the German was thinking of getting back together with Olivia. That got my attention. Now Lombard, he had no idea I had feelings for Olivia. We talked out a deal to put money in my wallet. He wanted me to report on what the German and Olivia were doing. He said he was only interested as a friend. I had my doubts about him. I thought, if he's such a good friend, why does he need to pay me to spy? But I needed the money."
"But you also had your personal interest," Frank pointed out.
"Yeah, it's not a pretty thing to admit to. Lombard said that the German would be in danger from his own people, as a traitor I suppose. As soon as I heard he was wanting to get back with Olivia I wanted in the worst way to get rid of him. Yeah, that's what I wanted even though I've got nothing going with Olivia. Thursday night I followed them home. They only had eyes for each other and they were a bit drunk so they didn't notice me.
"You know, that German isn't going to take her away to some shiny castle. Most of the places he goes he won't be able to take her. What is she going to do, eat in the car while he goes to some fancy dinner? How much of that can she take?
"Those college people can't help but hate her. They don't want to see one of us get our foot in the door. Oh, I know, there are some who want to show the world what free spirits and advanced thinkers they are. They'll take her around to show their friends. They'll make a scene at parties. It's that way for a jazz musician, too. You don't need me to tell you how far you can depend on friends like that.
"Plenty of her own folk will hate her too. They'll think she's trying to climb up over them by marrying that guy. How much hostility can that woman stomach?"
"Mr. Mayall," Joe finally said, "don't you think Olivia has thought of all that? Can't you recognize love when you see it?"
That gave Toots pause and he said nothing but looked at his slender, delicate hands.
Frank had not finished his line of questioning. "You only gave the address to Martin Lombard?"
"I don't know any German spies and I wouldn't know how to find them if I wanted to. I met Lombard yesterday afternoon. He seemed happy to pay up. He had this sly grin on his face. I figured Lombard would grab his friend and take him out of here. Or maybe he intended to turn him over to the Germans. Either way he'd be gone from Olivia's life again."
"Well, you've got what you wished for. Heinze was taken away at gunpoint no more than half an hour ago," said Frank bitterly. "And by goons who would make your skin crawl too, I bet."
"How long have you known her?" Joe asked.
"Three years. She's had men in her life during that time but none serious. She won't give me a chance. I know I can be steady. I know I can be a good father for her kid. She won't let me near Charlie. She says her personal life is private. I want our lives to be private together. What's a man supposed to want? It's another door slammed in my face."
"Olivia wouldn't suspect that her own friend has betrayed her like this."
"Mr. Mayall," said Frank sympathetically but firmly, "what did you mean when you said you could turn over a new leaf?"
"All right, so I've been popping more of these pills than is good for me. I know what you boys are thinking. But I'm not some old junkie shuffling along the sidewalk in shoes with the sole flapping loose, holding out his hand for spare change. I go into and out of my bad habits. But I've been pretty much clean for nearly all the time I've known Olivia. She's heard old stories about me, that's all it is. It's the reputation I had when I wasn't much older than you."
Olivia entered the room. "Sorry I'm late, boys. Laetitia was late coming home from her appointment. Hey, where is everybody?" She took a long look at Toots sitting at the table with the Hardys.
"They're in the kitchen eating," Joe replied. "We were about finished here. Have a good rehearsal."
"What were you talking about?" Olivia demanded, staring at Toots.
"Nothing much." he said softly, evading her eyes.