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mistake, I thought as I went up the pier. I didn’t know anybody there who would be trying to phone me. The watchman’s shack was just inside the gate, with a door and a wide window facing the driveway. Johns set the instrument on the window counter. “Here you go.”
    I picked it up. “Hello. Rogers speaking.”
    It was a woman’s voice. “Is this the Mr. Stuart Rogers who owns the yacht Topaz?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Good.” There was evident relief in her voice. Then she went on softly, “Mr. Rogers, I’m worried. I haven’t heard from him yet.”
    “From whom?” I asked blankly.
    “Oh,” she replied. “I am sorry. It’s just that I’m so upset. This is Paula Stafford.”
    It was evident from the way she said it the name was supposed to explain everything. “I don’t understand,” I said. “What is it you want?”
    “He did tell you about me, didn’t he?”
    I sighed. “Miss Stafford—or Mrs. Stafford—I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who told me about you?”
    “You’re being unnecessarily cautious, Mr. Rogers. I assure you I’m Paula Stafford. It must have been at least two weeks now, and I still have no word from him. I don’t like it at all. Do you think something could have gone wrong?”
    “Let’s go back and start over,” I suggested. “My name is Stuart Rogers, age thirty-two, male, single, charter yacht captain—”
    “Will you please—” she snapped. Then she paused, apparently restraining herself, and went on more calmly. “All right, perhaps you’re right not to take chances without some proof. Fortunately, I’ve already made plane reservations. I’ll arrive at two-twenty a.m., and will be at the Warwick Hotel. Will you please meet me there as soon as I check in? It’s vitally important.” She hung up.
    I shrugged, replaced the instrument, and lighted a cigarette. There was a weird one.
    “Some nut?” Johns asked. He was a gaunt, white-haired man with ice-blue eyes. He leaned on the window shelf and began stoking a caked and smelly pipe. “I got a son-in-law that’s a cop, and he says you get your name in the paper you’re pestered with all kindsa screwballs.”
    “Probably a drunk,” I replied.
    “Too bad about that Keefer fella,” Johns went on. “Did I tell you he was here Iookin’ for you the other night?”
    I glanced up quickly. “He was? When was this?”
    “Hmmm. Same night they say he was killed. That’d be Thursday. I reckon I must have forgot to tell you because when you come in Ralph’d just relieved me and we was shootin’ the breeze.”
    “What time was he here?”
    “About seven, seven-thirty. Wasn’t long after you went out.”
    I frowned. It was odd that Blackie hadn’t mentioned it when I ran into him at the Domino. “You’re sure it was Keefer?”
    “That’s the name he said. Dark-haired kind of fella. Said he was the one that sailed up from Panama with you. I told him you’d gone uptown to a movie and wouldn’t be back till around eleven.”
    “Was he in a car?” I asked. “And was there a girl with him?”
    Johns shook his head. “He was by hisself. And I didn’t see no car; far as I know he was afoot. I reckon he’d had a couple snorts, because he got pretty hot under the collar when I wouldn’t let him go aboard the boat. He told me again about bein’ a friend of yours and comin’ up from Panama on it, and I said it didn’t make no difference to me if he’d helped you sail it here from Omaha, Nebraska. Long as he wasn’t in the crew no more he wasn’t goin’ aboard without you was with him.”
    “What did he want?” I asked. “Did he say?”
    “Said he forgot his razor when he was paid off. I told him he’d have to see you about that. He left, and didn’t come back.”
    “Oh,” I said. “The companion hatch was locked; he couldn’t have got aboard anyway. He should have known that.”
    I went back aboard the Topaz . It was after six now; I might as well knock off for the day. I