There was no woman in the room, and no dead man in sight. Everything was in perfect order with a man's bedroom slippers showing from under the bed, a pair of violently flowered pajamas lying across the foot of it, a set of silver-backed brushes on the dressing-table.

Patton stopped just inside the open door for a full thirty seconds while he surveyed the seemingly empty room, then motioned for Bill to remain behind while he-crossed to the closed bathroom door and jerked it open. He switched on the inside light and found it empty. He turned to the single closet in the room and opened that door. Half a dozen light suits and jackets were on hangers in perfect order. No one was concealed behind them.

Patton turned about with a puzzled frown, shaking his head dubiously at the bell-captain in the doorway, then dropped to his knees beside the bed, lifted the trailing coverlet to look beneath it carefully.

He got to his feet, brushing off his knees, his eyes hard and probing as he swept up the telephone from the small table at the head of the bed.

He rumbled, "Have you gone nuts, Evelyn? There's no one here-alive or dead."

"But that's what she said. That there was a dead man. Murdered, she said. I can't help it, Mr. Patton, if-"

He growled, "Skip it. Tell me this. Drood supposed to be in?"

"He-" she faltered. "Well, he was in earlier. But-uhfour-fourteen called down to his room about half an hour ago."

Patton got a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped sweat from his face. "Who's four-fourteen?"

"Miss Payne."

"Tall and skinny?" he ruminated, bUnking his eyes in thought "He go up there?"

"Well, I- How should I know? I connected them and-"

"And listened in," he cut her short wearily. "Yes or no?"

"Well, yes. I guess maybe he did. I just happened to hear her ask him-"

"Okay, okay. Tell Dick to hold the fort while we take a look."