Then he packed up whatever belongings he had there and took them away.
And later on, sometime in the night and before the body stiffened, he had a revulsion of feeling and thought he hadn't treated his dead friend very nicely.
So he went back and laid him out on the bed.
That's all guessing, of course."
Wilde nodded.
"Then this morning he goes down to the store as if nothing had happened and keeps his eyes open.
And when Brody moved the books out he found out where they were going and assumed that whoever got them had killed Geiger just for that purpose.
He may even have known more about Brody and the girl than they suspected.
What do you think, Ohls?"
Ohls said: "We'll find out — but that doesn't help Cronjager's troubles.
What's eating him is all this happened last night and he's only just been rung in on it."
Cronjager said sourly: "I think I can find some way to deal with that angle too." He looked at me sharply and immediately looked away again.
Wilde waved his cigar and said: "Let's see the exhibits, Marlowe."
I emptied my pockets and put the catch on his desk: the three notes and Geiger's card to General Sternwood, Carmen's photos, and the blue notebook with the code list of names and addresses.
I had already given Geiger's keys to Ohls.
Wilde looked at what I gave him, puffing gently at his cigar.
Ohls lit one of his own toy cigars and blew smoke peacefully at the ceiling.
Cronjager leaned on the desk and looked at what I had given Wilde.
Wilde tapped the three notes signed by Carmen and said:
"I guess these were just a come-on.
If General Sternwood paid them, it would be through fear of something worse.
Then Geiger would have tightened the screws.
Do you know what he was afraid of?" He was looking at me.
I shook my head.
"Have you told your story complete in all relevant details?" "I left out a couple of personal matters.
I intend to keep on leaving them out, Mr. Wilde."
Cronjager said: "Hah!" and snorted with deep feeling.
"Why?" Wilde asked quietly.
"Because my client is entitled to that protection, short of anything but a Grand Jury.
I have a license to operate as a private detective.
I suppose that word 'private' has some meaning.
The Hollywood Division has two murders on its hands, both solved.
They have both killers.
They have the motive, the instrument in each case.
The blackmail angle has got to be suppressed, as far as the names of the parties are concerned."
"Why?" Wilde asked again.
"That's okey," Cronjager said dryly. "We're glad to stooge for a shamus of his standing."
I said: "I'll show you." I got up and went back out of the house to my car and got the book from Geiger's store out of it.
The uniformed police driver was standing beside Ohls' car.
The boy was inside it, leaning back sideways in the corner.
"Has he said anything?" I asked.
"He made a suggestion," the copper said and spat. "I'm letting it ride."
I went back into the house, put the book on Wilde's desk and opened up the wrappings.
Cronjager was using a telephone on the end of the desk.
He hung up and sat down as I came in.
Wilde looked through the book, wooden-faced, closed it and pushed it towards Cronjager.
Cronjager opened it, looked at a page or two, shut it quickly.
A couple of red spots the size of half dollars showed on his cheekbones.
I said: "Look at the stamped dates on the front endpaper."
Cronjager opened the book again and looked at them.