Somebody got gunned by Geiger, who ran away.
Or it was two other fellows.
Or Geiger was running a cult and made blood sacrifices in front of that totem pole.
Or he had chicken for dinner and liked to kill his chickens in the front parlor."
The gray man scowled at me.
"I give up," I said. "Better call your friends downtown."
"I don't get it," he snapped. "I don't get your game here."
"Go ahead, call the buttons.
You'll get a big reaction from it."
He thought that over without moving.
His lips went back against his teeth.
"I don't get that, either," he said tightly.
"Maybe it just isn't your day.
I know you, Mr. Mars.
The Cypress Club at Las Olindas.
Flash gambling for flash people.
The local law in your pocket and a well-greased line into L.A.
In other words, protection.
Geiger was in a racket that needed that too.
Perhaps you spared him a little now and then, seeing he's your tenant."
His mouth became a hard white grimace.
"Geiger was in what racket?"
"The smut book racket."
He stared at me for a long level minute.
"Somebody got to him," he said softly. "You know something about it.
He didn't show at the store today.
They don't know where he is.
He didn't answer the phone here.
I came up to see about it.
I find blood on the floor, under a rug.
And you and a girl here."
"A little weak," I said. "But maybe you can sell the story to a willing buyer.
You missed a little something, though.
Somebody moved his books out of the store today — the nice books he rented out."
He snapped his fingers sharply and said:
"I should have thought of that, soldier.
You seem to get around.
How do you figure it?"
"I think Geiger was rubbed.
I think that is his blood.
And the books being moved out gives a motive for hiding the body for a while.
Somebody is taking over the racket and wants a little time to organize."
"They can't get away with it," Eddie Mars said grimly.
"Who says so?
You and a couple of gunmen in your car outside?
This is a big town now, Eddie.
Some very tough people have checked in here lately.
The penalty of growth."
"You talk too damned much," Eddie Mars said. He bared his teeth and whistled twice, sharply.
A car slammed outside and running steps came through the hedge.