knocking on the door, and I called out: "Who's there?"
A voice I didn't know answered: "This is Grossman. Can I see you for a minute, Mr.
Nuber? It's important. Something to do with the race today."
The name Grossman didn't ring the bell at all. I couldn't recall anyone with that
moniker. And I didn't want to talk about that damned race. I never wanted to hear it
mentioned again. Then I thought: "Maybe it's good news. Maybe the bets've been called
off!"
So I got up and opened the door.
The man named Grossman was big, with a red face and a square chin that jutted out,
and he had a short scrubby yellow mustache, like a worn-out toothbrush.
"Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Nuber," he said. "But it's important. May I come in for a
minute?"
He didn't wait for me to answer, but stepped into my room and closed the door behind
him. He didn't take his hat off, but just stood with his back against the door, while he
talked.
"It's about this race-driver fella Landi," he said.
I had an uncomfortable feeling. Landi was the last person in the world I wanted to
talk about just then.
"Sit down and have a drink," I invited, "and tell me about him."
Grossman ignored the invitation and remained with his back set against the door.
"Landi was found dead outside his garage two hours after the race. He had two bullets
in his heart. You know anything about it?"
I know I must have looked queer--and maybe as guilty as hell--for I just sat there
and stared at him, with my jaw sagging. I was speechless.
He said: "I'm from the D.A.'s office. He wants to question you. Will you come along,
or shall I slip the cuffs on you?"
I found my voice. "I...I'll come along. But I don't know anything about Landi's
murder. I didn't do it. I came here right after the race. I've been here ever since."
"You were asking questions about Landi just before the race," Grossman said, in an
accusing tone; "and you told a lot of people he wouldn't drive in the race--that he
wouldn't show up. You tipped off some of the other bookies. How did you know?"
I repeated my denial. "I didn't know. It was just my opinion. I've been in this room
since shortly after the race."
Grossman shook his head slowly. "That alibi won't do. You see, the medicos say Landi
