June Mallory was seeking a victim. There was something hard and calculating in her eyes as her gaze swept over the crowded tables of the Silent Parrot night club.
She was very well known at the club—these last few weeks she had been a constant visitor. Yet she loathed the place. It looked cheap and nasty. Everywhere the paintwork was faded and drab; there were damp patches on the walls, and in many places the distemper was flaking so that it was the ruination of a dress if one stood too near. Yet, for some unknown reason, the Silent Parrot was popular. Society had taken it up. The service charges had leaped to fantastic heights but that only seemed to make the club more popular. Every night money flowed into the Silent Parrot, and because there was money there, June Mallory was a constant visitor.
It was her job to seek out men and money.
