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testimonial,” said Clapp. “And witnesses to all this?”
    “No,” admitted the slender man. “They weren’t needed. You should have learned by this time that most killings are private affairs.” He flashed the girl a quick smile. She was sitting erect in her chair, her eyes fixed intently on his face.
    “I’ve never had to kill a man,” said Clapp.
    “Maybe you’re a poor shot.”
    “I had the public welfare course ten years ago in police school.” Felix broke in. “Let’s get on with the story.”
    “Anyhow, we did pretty well — Hal and I. I was from Cincinnati but Hal was a native son — he’d been a star halfback somewhere down there in his younger days and that didn’t hurt business any. And he was as friendly with our clients as if he was selling cars. Made a hell of a good front man. But he was smart for all his size.”
    Clapp grunted.
    “So that was the way we ran our business. Hal got out and met our clients, and I ran the office and kept up the contacts with people who weren’t our clients but who we needed just as badly. I didn’t get around too much unless things got involved and needed the plug pulled. Hal was smart but there are times in the agency racket when you need brains
and
speed. Or maybe just speed.”
    “Okay. So you and your Hal got along like two worms in a big red apple. So what?”
    “Let W. Somerset James tell his story in his way,” reproved the slender man. He sipped his beer deliberately. “Yes, we got along fine. We didn’t share a doughnut every morning, but we got along fine. Whenever we had time for any social life, the three of us generally went out together.”
    Clapp raised his heavy eyebrows.
    “Hal had a wife, Ethel. They were crazy about each other. She was a tall, good-looking blonde, and Hal was damn proud of her.”
    “Jealous?”
    “Not of me, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
    “You married?”
    “I’m a free agent.” He gave Laura Gilbert an oblique glance. Her red mouth curved faintly at the corners.
    “In fact,” Walter James continued, “Hal was so obviously wild about Ethel that one man we were dealing with thought he could get Hal through her. It was later on in that case that the Buick came in handy.”
    “This place gets a little cold this time of morning,” Clapp said to the girl. “I can get you a blanket out of Stein’s office.”
    “I’m all right,” she said, pulling the tweed coat a little tighter. “I just had a chill for a second.” She stroked the hair over her left ear. “Please go on. I feel fine.”
    “That was the setup,” said Walter James, “and we never got involved because we kept our noses clean. But the way the agency operated, sometimes Hal didn’t know what I was doing and I didn’t know what he was doing. And about two months ago — July — Hal stumbled onto something he couldn’t handle. Only he thought he could. He didn’t tell me much about it, said he didn’t know anything definite. But the Atlanta cops had been having trouble for some time with pretty good-sized loads of dope being distributed across the South — and apparently out of Atlanta. They had called us and said if we got any leads along that line to cut them in. Well, whatever Hal picked up was along that line. He told me that much. But I figured that if he picked up something important he’d let me know and we’d work the deal along with the cops.”
    “Dope?” Clapp asked.
    “Marijuana.”
    “From here?”
    “That’s right.”
    “How do you know?”
    “The first of August Hal flew to Denver on a case. He was gone a lot longer than he should have been. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because he was his own boss. When I got into San Diego Thursday I drove straight to the airport. They showed a Hal Lantz coming in from Denver through L. A., staying here two days and flying back the same way.”
    “It’ll take more than that to involve this town.”
    “Okay. Three days after Hal got back from