Read The Blue Movie Murders for Free Online Page A

Special Affairs.” He showed his shield case.
    The departing mayor stopped short and turned to introduce himself. Some of the kindness had gone out of his face. “I’m Frank Jordan, mayor of Rockview. I hadn’t been informed that Governor Holland was sending an investigator here.”
    â€œIt’s not about the strike,” McCall assured him. “It’s on another matter, and I’d like to talk to you both if I could.”
    Xavier Mann hesitated, then said, “Come into my library and explain yourself, young man. You’d better come too, Mayor.”
    McCall followed them into a high-ceilinged, book-lined study that reminded him of the reading room in a public library. There were even little green-shaded lamps scattered about the room, adding to the library atmosphere. He picked a comfortable armchair facing Mann’s wide cluttered desk. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
    Xavier Mann ignored the comment and said simply, “Now, sir, what is your business?”
    â€œI’m looking into the murder of Ben Sloane, the film producer.”
    The older man’s deep-set eyes seemed to flicker with a touch of fire. “A tragedy,” he said quietly. “Mayor Jordan was just telling me about it. But how does it interest the Governor, enough for him to send you here the same day?”
    â€œSloane came to Rockview to find a man named Sol Dahlman, a film director. Did either of you ever hear the name before?”
    â€œNot me,” Mayor Jordan said, shaking his white mane.
    â€œNor I,” Xavier Mann said.
    McCall decided to get tough. “That’s odd, since Ben Sloane wrote to both of you last week, mentioning the name.”
    Xavier Mann’s face flushed and he rose from behind the desk, his eyes flashing. “Mr. McCall, you have no right to come into my house and quiz me like this. You seem to have an overdeveloped sense of your own importance, sir. I could pick up that telephone and have Governor Holland on the line in a minute.”
    â€œGo ahead. He sent me here to ask questions, and that’s what I’m doing.”
    â€œWe both received the letters,” Mayor Jordan volunteered. “But neither of us knew this man Dahlman. We thought no more about it.”
    Before McCall could say anything else they were interrupted by the appearance of a middle-aged woman with dark, glistening hair. “Xavier,” she said, “you promised to be finished by five.”
    Xavier Mann sighed and nodded. “Yes, I did, my dear. Mr. McCall, this is my wife, Elizabeth.”
    McCall judged her to be at least twenty-five years younger than her husband. She stood in the doorway straight and unyielding, and he had the impression that she didn’t need any of Cynthia Rhodes’s propaganda to be a liberated woman.
    â€œPleased to meet you,” he said.
    She nodded silently, and her husband said, “I’ll be finished here in just a moment, dear.”
    As she started to turn in the doorway McCall asked, “Mrs. Mann, I’m here seeking information on a man named Sol Dahlman. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”
    â€œSol Dahlman …” She repeated the name, like some half-forgotten melody.
    But Xavier Mann was too fast. “I’ve already told him we know nothing of any such person, my dear.”
    She took the cue promptly. “That’s right. I’ve never heard the name before.”
    â€œSatisfied, Mr. McCall?” Xavier Mann asked. There was something like triumph in his voice, as if he’d just made a skilful move at chess.
    â€œI guess I have to be.”
    Mrs. Mann left the room, and her husband leaned back in his swivel chair. McCall would have hated to be one of his employees.
    â€œThen you’ll be going, Mr. McCall?”
    â€œNot quite yet. I have one more thing to ask you.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œBen Sloane was searching for Dahlman, and the letter told you