Free Time Off for Murder by Zelda Popkin Page A

to the wealthy sportsman, Saxon Rorke, the surmise of her suicide, the interviews with Lyman Knight, the photographs of the house on Washington Square, of Knight in his parlor, of Wilfred Van Arsdale of Troy, of Rorke with the dogs, and Rorke in sports attire and masquerade costume, spread over nearly an entire inside page of the papers. Nardello got half a column next to the obituaries.
    Â Â Noon editions of the Monday afternoon papers, however, brought Social Registerite Knight and Racketeer Nardello together on page one, when the District Attorney's office issued a statement that the vanished attorney had been co-operating with them in securing information relative to the illicit activities of Mr. Nardello.
    Â Â The nature of the information could not be divulged because of the obvious fact that it might be part of the state's case against Nardello. The statement added further that the racketeer had been questioned by detectives in his cell in the Tombs and had convinced the police, that whatever Miss Knight might have known about him, he on his part, had not only never seen the woman but hadn't even heard of her.
    Â Â The newspapers, however, supplemented the D.A.'s announcement by reminding the two-and-two adding public that Nardello had been out on bail on the Wednesday of Miss Knight's disappearance and had surrendered to the court Thursday morning for trial.
    Â Â In lieu of personal interviews with the racketeer, who was denied to the press, Eugene Vigo, his attorney, maintained resolutely that his client had been with him at his apartment all Wednesday evening, discussing matters relative to his trial.
    Â Â At one o'clock, Johnny Reese phoned Mary Carner at Blankfort's to ask: "What do you think of the Nardello angle?"
    Â Â "I think it's fantastic."
    Â Â "So do I. But when a lady goes looking for trouble . . ."
    Â Â "Anything's possible." She finished his sentence.
    Â Â "That's it. Rockey was sore as a pup. 'What are you guys trying to pin on me, now?' he says. 'Ain't I got enough troubles without worrying about a dizzy dame? Whyn't you go out and find her?'"
    Â Â "That's an idea, too. Why don't you?"
    Â Â "We will, sister. And, believe me, we got plenty of help. The whole United States. You'd ought to see the mail. One guy sold her gas in New Mexico, week ago Friday, and same day a girl in a jook joint in Florida served her a hamburger. She stayed over night Saturday week in the Ethan Allen tourist camp up near Rutland, Vermont that is. And yesterday they fished a body out of a river in Ohio that they were sure was her, till somebody showed them it was a man. The dopes. And say, want to hear a good one? A guy in Bemidiji, Minnesota, calls up long distance, says he's just been talking to her at the bus station and she tells him she's running away from New York gangsters, and if we wire him the money for expenses, he'll bring her back to New York. And we better hurry up, say yes, because from where he's phoning he can see her standing, waiting for the bus and the bus is due in ten minutes and when we say: 'What's the girl look like?' he says: 'She weighs about a hundred-thirty and she's tall and skinny, and has black hair bobbed."'
    Â Â "Don't tell me any more, Johnny. I can't bear it."
    Â Â "Oh, that's nothing. You ain't heard the best ones. A dame that runs a rooming house in Baltimore sends us a night letter, collect. She wants us to pay a week's room rent for a woman who skipped out on her Saturday. She's sure the woman was Phyllis Knight and the stories in the paper scared her away. Somebody's got to pay for the room, and the New York police is rich. She says we owe it to her for the tip and we can collect it back from Phyllis when we catch her. Or else she'll sue us. And there's a pow-pow woman in Pennsylvania - place called Bird-inHand, ever hear of it? I think it's a gag, myself - says if we bring her to New York and put her up at a hotel she'll trot out