door, and splashed around for a while. “That ba is too small to dress and undress
in,” she stated flat “Anyhow I sleep raw. If you want to get undressed y won’t scare
me.”
I said. “I’ll take my coat and tie and shc
“Suit yourself.” Her voice was a little bit smother as she was already
wiggling her dress over her hea
She wore pants, whether Estelle ever did or notplain, white knit that looked
clean and neat. She c not wear a brassiere and did not need to. The concc tion I had
gotten of her figure in the Magic Mirror ‘~ entirely justified. She was simply the
most magn~ cently beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. street clothes she was
a beautiful, well-built wom~ in her skin-wars have started over less.
I was beginning to doubt my ability to stay on t couch. I must have showed
it, for she snorted, “Wi the drool off your chin!” and stepped out of Ipants.
‘Scuse, please,” I answered and started unlaci my shoes. She stepped over
and switched off the ligI then went over to the one big window and raised t shade.
It was closed but, with the light out, you coi see outside easily. “Stand back from
that window, said. “You’re too good a target.”
“Huh? Oh, very well.” She backed up a few steps ic
continued to stare thoughtfully out the window. I stared thoughtfully at her. There
w~as a big neon sign across the street and the colored lights, pouring in the
window, covered her from head to foot with a rosy liquid glow. She looked like
something out of a dream of fairyland.
Presently I wasn’t thinking how she looked; I was thinking about another
room, where a girl had lain murdered, with the lights of a night club shining
through a pane of glass, shining through like this neon.
My thoughts rearranged themselves rapidly and very painfully. I added them
up a second time and still got the same answer. I did not like the answer. I was
glad, damn glad, she was bare naked, with no way to conceal a gun, or a knife, or
any other sort of deadly weapon. “Hazel,” I said softly.
She turned to me. “Yes, Eddie?”
“I’ve just had a new idea .. . why should anyone want to kill you?”
“You said that before. There isn’t any.reason.”
“I know. You’re right; there isn’t any. But put it this way-why should you
want to kill Estelle?”
I thought she was going to faint again, but I didn’t care-I wanted to shock
her. Her lusciousness meant nothing to me now but a trap that had confused my
thoughts. I had not wanted to think her guilty, so I had disregarded the fact that
of all the persons involved she was the only one with the necessary opportunity, the
knowledge of the swapped shows, and at least some motive. She had made it plain that
she detested Estelle. She had covered it up but it was still evident.
But most important of all, the little stage had not been dark! True, it
looked dark-from the outside. You can’t see through glass when all the light comes
from one side and you are on that same side-but light passes through the glass just
the same. The neon on the street illuminated this room we were in fairly
brightly; the brilliant lights of Jack’s bar illuminat the little stage even when
the stage floodlights we:
out.
She knew that. She knew it because she had been there many times, getting
ready to pose for the suc ers. Therefore she knew that it was not a case of mi taken
identity in the dark-there was no dark! And would have to be nearly pitch black for
anyone to mi take Hazel’s blue-black mane for Estelle’s peroxid mop.
She knew-why hadn’t she said so? She was lettir me stay all night, not
wanting me around but riskii her reputation and more, because I had propound the
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wrong-girl-in-the-dark theory. She knew it wou not hold water; why had she not said
so?
“Eddie, have you gone crazy?” Her voice was frigF ened.