The Case of the Poisoned Eclairs: A Masao Masuto Mystery by Howard Fast

home at five, but if some broad wants a haircut at six, I stay.”
    â€œNow.”
    â€œI got a date.”
    â€œCall them and tell them you’ll be late.”
    â€œI don’t have to answer any questions.”
    â€œI don’t have to be nice,” Masuto said gently.
    â€œAll right. You win. You want coffee?”
    â€œYes, thank you.”
    Cooper regarded him curiously. “You’re a damn funny cop. I never knew they had a Jap on the police force here.”
    â€œYou live and you learn.”
    â€œI shouldn’t have said that—Jap,” Cooper said. “I meant Japanese. What the hell, you pick it up. I’ll get the coffee. Maybe you want a drink?”
    Masuto shook his head, and Cooper went to the back of the place and then emerged with two cups.
    â€œSugar and cream?”
    â€œJust straight.”
    He handed Masuto the coffee and sat down beside him. “Since that lousy film came out, everyone thinks this business has class and glamour. It doesn’t. You work your ass off and take crud all day. I been on my feet nine hours.”
    â€œA man should enjoy his work,” Masuto said.
    â€œDo you enjoy yours?”
    â€œAt times, yes. Right now, no.”
    â€œWhere do I fit in?”
    â€œHere are four names: Laura Crombie, Alice Greene, Nancy Legett, and Mitzie Fuller. How many of these women do you know?”
    â€œI know all of them.”
    â€œOh? And how is that?”
    â€œThey’re customers.”
    â€œI’d like to know about them.”
    â€œI don’t talk about my customers. I got maybe two or three principles. That’s one of them.”
    Masuto smiled. “That’s admirable. But I’m a cop, and these four women are in great danger. So in this instance, I suggest you put your principles aside.”
    â€œWhat kind of danger?”
    â€œSomeone is trying to kill them. I’m telling you this because I think it’s the only way I’ll get you to open up, but it stops with you.”
    The hairdresser stared at Masuto. “Are you putting me on?”
    â€œNo. I’m telling you the truth.”
    â€œWho? Who’s trying to kill them?”
    â€œI don’t know. It could even be you.”
    Cooper shook his head slowly. “Not likely. Oh, I hate some of these biddies enough to want to kill them, but it’s not my style. I couldn’t kill a mouse. Anyway, I’m a vegetarian.”
    Masuto did not regard it as a non sequitur. “You’re not a likely suspect, but you do know all four of them.”
    â€œCustomers. I know maybe two or three hundred dames in this town. Mostly they don’t bother me. I take them for what they are. They take me for what I am. It doesn’t drive them out of their minds to have their hair cut by a guy who’s gay. It’s only the cops and Anita Bryant who climb walls at the thought that somebody maybe don’t have the same sexual preference.”
    â€œHow well do you know them?”
    â€œThe way a hairdresser knows his customers. Some more, some less.”
    â€œStart with Laura Crombie.”
    â€œShe doesn’t talk much. I don’t know whether I like her or not but she’s straight on. She doesn’t dye her hair.”
    â€œWho would want to kill her?”
    â€œYou’re asking me? She doesn’t even take alimony from the son of a bitch she was married to.”
    â€œHow do you know that?”
    â€œThe women talk.”
    â€œDo you know her husband?”
    â€œJust by reputation. Crombie and Hawkes, real estate.”. “Who is Hawkes?”
    â€œNobody. He’s been dead for years.”
    â€œAlice Greene?”
    â€œTall willowy blonde. Not real, but a great head of hair. She’s the type I’d go for if I were straight. Real class, except that a buck is a buck. No other reason why she married that creep Alan Greene—you can’t turn on the tube without seeing