She was slowing down for the lights ahead, but as they turned green she stepped on the gas and made a quick left turn into Ventura. She waved toward a restaurant on the left side of the boulevard. “Let’s eat there; the food isn’t bad and it’s quiet.”
She drew in to the curb on the right side of the street and parked the car. Tommy got out and, running around to the left, helped her out. She flashed him a smile, took his hand and led the way across the boulevard, dodging a couple of cars en route.
The restaurant was a big flashy one, but there were only a few cars parked at the side, for the hour was still early. Betty and Tommy entered and a headwaiter came up.
“Good evening, Miss Targ,” he greeted Betty, and to Tommy: “Yes sir, this way, please.”
He led them to a booth at the far end of the room, where it was dim. As they seated themselves, Betty said to Tommy: “I’d like a cocktail. A daiquiri.”
“Two,” Tommy said to the waiter.
“Very good, sir, and will you have dinner later?”
“Probably.”
The waiter went off and Betty planted her elbows on the table and looked at Tommy over her cupped hands. “They’re using you, Tommy. Trent, or maybe it was Earl, found out about your knowledge of locks and keys.”
“I’m not going to answer that question,” Tommy persisted stubbornly.
“You don’t have to. Earl’s taken up with Flo Randall. He’s been giving her the rush act, at which he’s very good. Behind Paul deCamp’s back. It’s Paul they’re after. His money... and that’s where you come in. You’re going to open his safe.”
“This is a nice place,” Tommy said, looking about the restaurant. “Do you come here often?”
“You
“I can open a safe,” Tommy replied, “if I’ve got the combination.”
“Then Flo Randall got it for Earl.”
“That wouldn’t be very healthy for Flo, would it?”
“Not if deCamp knew it. But it’d be less healthy for
“Betty,” said Tommy, “I’m not going to open Paul deCamp’s wall safe. Take my word—”
“How do you know it’s a wall safe?”
“Isn’t it?”
“It is, but how did you know?”
“I just made a guess.”
“You’re lying, Tommy. Or—” she searched his face shrewdly — “or evading.”
Tommy was given a momentary respite when the waiter came up with the drinks. He took up his glass and looked at Betty over the top of it. “To us!”
She barely tasted the drink. “You’re evading, that’s it. It has something to do with Paul deCamp, but it isn’t his safe. You answered that, straight.” She screwed up her face in thought. “You’re an expert on locks and keys, but not safes. You can open any kind of a lock. I saw you do it.”
“All right,” Tommy cried, “all
“You’re planning to rob Paul deCamp. I don’t know how but it’s got something to do with locks. And Willis Trent and Earl Faraday are using you as a tool.”
“Why should
“Damn you, Tommy Dancer,” Betty shot back at him. “Can’t you get it through that thick skull of yours that I’m through with Earl Faraday?”
“For the moment.”
“For keeps. All right, I’ll admit it, I thought I was in love with him. But even then I had no illusions about him. I knew him for what he was.” She made an impatient gesture and laughed. “Women are fools about their men. The more worthless they are the bigger fools they are about them Earl Faraday was never in love with me. He thought I had money and when he found out I didn’t have any, well — he didn’t want me then. I’m being brutally frank about it.”
Tommy stared at her. “You’ve got a Cadillac car — a mink coat...”
“And a fine house in Beverly Hills,” Betty said, scornfully. “With a nice mortgage on it... My father died a year ago and mother and I discovered that he had cashed m even his annuities — yes, to buy this Cadillac car and mink coat — and a lot of other things... So if you think you’re getting a rich girl, forget it.”
“What do you mean if I think I’m getting a rich girl?”
Betty leaned back against the seat cushion and looked steadily at Tommy. “If we didn’t spend all our time fighting, maybe you’d know by now...”
Tommy’s hand shot across the table and caught hold of both of Betty’s hands. For a moment she averted her eyes then raised them to meet Tommy’s. A smile parted her lips.
“Hello,” she said.
Knuckles massaged the thin panels of the door and caused a series of small explosions inside the room. Tommy Dancer rolled over in bed, groaned and opened one eye. It focused itself with some difficulty upon the cheap alarm clock beside his bed. It read 7:10.
“For the love of Mike,” he exclaimed.
“Tommy,” someone called outside the door.
It was the voice of Willis Trent and it shocked Tommy awake. He threw back the bed covers and swung his bare feet to the floor. He crossed swiftly to the door and shot back the night latch.
