Deadly Weapon Read Online Free PDF Page A

by Walter James’s side. “Miss Gilbert here has the idea that someone came in and sat down by the dead man toward the end of the show and then got up and left. It was probably the murderer.”
    “How does that tie us in?” Danny Host asked him.
    Clapp looked around slowly. “The murderer knew Solez’ habits pretty well. That’s obvious. That doesn’t necessarily mean somebody who works here, but it might. And there are passages on both sides of the stage that lead into the house. It wouldn’t have been too hard to duck out after a number, plant a knife in Solez and come back in time for the next spot.”
    An excited murmur broke out at this. Clapp turned again to Shasta Lynn. “So what’s your alibi, Miss Lynn?”
    “I have to powder my body before my number.” The dancer gave him an icy smile. “It takes about ten minutes.”
    “Any witnesses?”
    “Madeline always helps me.” Madeline nodded her head vigorously. She clung to Shasta’s arm with both hands.
    “Very neat,” said Clapp. “You clear each other that way.” He shrugged. “Well, we’ll see. Felix, did you get the names and addresses?” The dapper detective nodded. “Then let’s go home.” He turned toward the empty house.
    Greissinger padded after him. “Lieutenant,” he wheezed anxiously, “the newspapers — if they get this, it’s gonna be tough on me — ”
    Clapp rubbed the back of his neck and squinted his gray eyes wearily. “Okay,” he said, “it won’t be the Grand Theater. It won’t even be a burlesque joint — just a downtown musical showhouse. That’ll go on just as long as you play ball with me.”
    The oily manager smiled his gratitude. “Thanks a million, Lieutenant. I won’t forget it. I’ll give you all the help I can. You can count on me.”
    “All right, all right,” said Clapp heavily and went down the wooden steps into the theater. Walter James guided Laura Gilbert after him.
    “Okay,” Felix said in back of them as they started down the steps. “That’s all for tonight. Don’t anybody leave town until you hear from us.” The voices rose again in chorus. The iron stage door banged open.
    “Tired?” Walter James asked the girl.
    She gave him a weary smile. “Can I sit down for a minute?” She sank into a seat in the front row. She sighed. “Those terrible people!”
    Walter James shrugged. “You can’t expect the four hundred in a place like this.” He glanced around at the empty theater. The blue curtain rose tiredly. The last of the cast were filing out the stage door. An old fellow in blue denim overalls came out on the edge of the stage and sat down. He swung his legs a little as he began pulling limp sandwiches from a paper bag.
    Clapp came back down the aisle to them. “I’d like to see you both in the morning. Say about eleven. What’s your address, Miss Gilbert?”
    “Address?” She rattled it off. “It’s at the corner of El Cajon and 45th Street, right behind Gilbert Realty.”
    “That your father?”
    “Yes — he’s J. A. Gilbert.”
    “Mother?”
    “No. Mom’s been dead for quite a while.”
    “And you go to State?”
    She nodded. Clapp looked at her steadily. “I know that some of the sorority girls like to do some slumming here, but they don’t usually come alone.”
    The girl put a little “V” between her eyebrows. “It’s kind of hard to explain — to you. I was just downtown and — and — I wanted something to do. Something a little different. Life seems so slow sometimes.” She smiled at him. “I guess it sounds pretty silly.”
    “No,” said Clapp. “Just let me tell you what I had to tell my youngster a while back. She’s a little older than you and she’s up at U. C. L. A. You can’t force excitement in life. You generally find out what excitement has been after it’s all over. You were lucky tonight — if sitting next to a dead Filipino was what you were looking for. But this Grand Theater business isn’t life. It’s all fake.