Calamity Town by Ellery Queen Page B

Hot Spot . The parking lot to the side was empty except for one small car.
    â€˜Look at what?’ demanded Ellery, puzzled. ‘I don’t see anything except no customers, since the sun is shining and Carlatti’s patrons don’t creep out of their walls until nightfall.’
    â€˜Judging from that car on the plot,’ said Pat, a little pale, ‘there’s one customer.’
    Ellery frowned. ‘It does look like the same car.’
    â€˜It is.’ Pat drove up to the entrance, and they jumped out.
    â€˜It might be business, Pat,’ said Ellery, not with conviction.
    Pat glanced at him scornfully and opened the front door. There was no one in the chrome-and-scarlet leather interior but a bartender and a man mopping the postage-stamp dance floor. Both employees looked at them curiously. ‘I don’t see him,’ whispered Pat.
    â€˜He may be in one of those booths…No.’
    â€˜The back room…’
    â€˜Let’s sit down.’
    They sat down at the nearest table and the bartender came over, yawning. ‘What’ll it be, folks?’
    â€˜Cuba Libre,’ said Pat, nervously looking around.
    â€˜Scotch.’
    â€˜Uh-huh.’ The bartender strolled back to his bar.
    â€˜Wait here,’ said Ellery. He got up and made for the rear, like a man looking for something.
    â€˜It’s over that way,’ said the man with the mop, pointing to a door marked HE . But Ellery pushed against a partly open redand-gold door with a heavy brass lock. It swung noiselessly.
    The room beyond was a gambling room. In a chair at the empty roulette table sprawled Jim Haight, his head on one arm of the table. A burly man with a cold cigar stub in his teeth stood half turned away from Ellery at a telephone on the far wall. ‘Yeah. I said Mrs Haight, stoopid.’ The man had luxuriant black brows which almost met and a gray flabby face. ‘Tell her Vic Carlatti.’
    â€˜Stoopid’ would be Alberta. Ellery stood still against the redand-gold door. ‘Mrs Haight? This is Mr Carlatti of the Hot Spot ,’ said the proprietor in a genial bass. ‘Yeah…No, I ain’t making no mistake, Mrs Haight. It’s about Mr Haight…Now wait a minute. He’s settin’ in my back room right now, cockeyed…I mean drunk…Now don’t get bothered, Mrs Haight. Your old man’s okay. Just had a couple of shots too many and passed out. What’ll I do with the body?’
    â€˜Just a moment,’ said Ellery pleasantly.
    Carlatti slewed his big head around. He looked Ellery up and down. ‘Hold on a second, Mrs Haight…Yeah? What can I do for you?’
    â€˜You can let me talk to Mrs Haight,’ said Ellery, crossing over and taking the phone from the man’s furry hands. ‘Nora? This is Ellery Smith.’
    â€˜Ellery!’ Nora was frantic. ‘What’s the matter with Jim? How is he? How did you happen to—’
    â€˜Don’t get excited, Nora. Pat and I were driving past Carlatti’s place and we noticed Jim’s car parked outside. We’re in here now and Jim’s all right. Just had a little too much to drink.’
    â€˜I’ll drive right down—the station wagon—’
    â€˜You’ll do nothing of the kind. Pat and I will have him home in half an hour. Don’t worry, do you hear?’
    â€˜Thank you,’ whispered Nora, and hung up.
    Ellery turned from the telephone to find Pat bending over Jim, shaking him. ‘Jim. Jim!’
    â€˜It’s no use, girl friend,’ growled Carlatti. ‘He’s carrying a real load.’
    â€˜You ought to be ashamed of yourself, getting him tight!’
    â€˜Now don’t get tough, babe. He came in here under his own steam. I got a licence to sell liquor. He wants to buy, he can buy. Get him outa here.’
    â€˜How did you know who he was? How did you know whom to call?’ Pat was fizzing with