Insofar as I could see, my only hope of finding Johnny was through his contact with Considine or someone who knew Considine. Hall might not appreciate the fact that I was spending my time hunting for Johnny, but I salved my conscience with the thought that I was doing so in connection with Considine—and just might turn up a lead for Hall. I couldn’t get my mind off the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Johnny Doane was a good detective and, as far as I knew, an honest man. I was certain he would have followed every lead; within a week he would have turned up something worth reporting to Hall. And yet there was no news at all. I didn’t like to think it but Johnny just might have got greedy. The idea of money, lots of money, did strange things to people. Since I couldn’t do anything with that idea, I let it lie and went to work. All I had was a telephone number and a note to send flowers to E. The E could be the Edna of the birthday card I had found in Considine’s desk. I called the number.
What do You think about Blondes Are Skin Deep (1951)?
