The Blue Movie Murders by Ellery Queen

newspapers, Lieutenant.”
    â€œI was just talking to a reporter out at the murder scene. He told me that’s why you’re here—because the Governor doesn’t think we can handle the case.”
    â€œWell, I tell you that’s wrong. The death of Ben Sloane had very little to do with my coming here. I’m much more interested in the reason for his visit, and the present whereabouts of Sol Dahlman.”
    Powell’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yesterday I was willing to co-operate with you, but today is different. I want you out of this building, McCall. Out of this city.”
    â€œI haven’t done anything yet.”
    â€œYou’ve been bothering people.”
    â€œPeople like Xavier Mann? Or Mayor Jordan?”
    â€œDon’t push, McCall.”
    Powell turned away and motioned Miss Walsh into his office. McCall shrugged and left. It always seemed to work out the same—local lawmen resented any kind of state interference. McCall was the first to admit that all was not perfect on the state level, yet he felt that officials in cities like Rockview were resentful without real cause.
    Across the street from headquarters, near the coroner’s office, he recognized the sandy-haired cab driver he’d met during his first minutes in Rockview. He strolled over to chat with the man.
    â€œHow are you? Remember me?”
    The driver smoothed the flowered pattern of his sports shirt. “Sure. From yesterday.”
    â€œMy name’s Micah McCall.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œDriving a taxi, you get to hear things around town, especially with all these reporters coming in.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ron Kozinski.”
    â€œKozinski? Do you have a kid brother working out at Mann Photo?”
    The cabbie’s face brightened. “Yeah, Jack! He’s working there while he finishes school. But with the strike and all, it’s tough.”
    â€œHe helped me out yesterday. Showed me Xavier Mann’s home.”
    â€œHe’s a nice kid.”
    McCall thought of something. “You didn’t by any chance take a girl out to the Rockview Motel last night, did you?”
    Ron Kozinski thought about it. “Not me. But there are plenty of other cabbies in town.” Then his forehead wrinkled. “You mean the one who’s asking all the questions?”
    â€œI guess that’s the one.”
    Kokinski nodded. “Says her name is April Evans. She was around a few places last night.”
    â€œReporter?”
    â€œProbably, but she’s not saying. A real looker, you know? Built like a chorus girl, only not tough at all. A cute face.”
    â€œYou seem to have studied her quite closely.”
    â€œI was having coffee at the motel last night when she was in there, asking questions.”
    â€œWhat sort of questions?”
    â€œIf any of them had seen Sloane before he was killed. I guess she didn’t get much information, though.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œWell, she didn’t stay long. And I heard her tell the cashier that the motel was so inefficient it was a wonder all the guests weren’t murdered in their rooms.”
    â€œIs she still in town?”
    â€œSure. But she’s not at the motel. She’s got a room at the Parkview.”
    â€œThanks.” McCall slipped him a folded bill. “If you hear anything else I can use, let me know.”
    He crossed the street and walked down the block to the Parkview House.

SIX
    Thursday, May 13
    The Parkview was old, with its lobby furnishings centred around a statue of the state’s first governor—a fat bald man who’d been made to resemble a Roman emperor. McCall passed the statue, aware of the musty odour that seemed to emanate from it, and asked the room clerk for April Evans’ number.
    â€œOh, we don’t give out that information, sir. But you can call her on the house