by J. T. Edson
With her cigarette’s tip glowing red, Ivy reluctantly took her hands from Brad’s. Then she darted a slightly defiant leer at Alice who had withdrawn a few steps. Turning her attention back to Brad, the blonde asked him what he wanted to know.
‘Start with where the incident took place and go on from there,’ the big deputy suggested.
‘It was on one of the turn-offs from the State Auto Road,’ Ivy answered. ‘We, Marty and I, were going along it. I’d left a pair of gloves at our hunting lodge out by Euclid and wanted to collect them. We only stopped the car for a moment—’
‘Why?’ Brad prompted. ‘I’ll have to know the answer, it’s expected of me.’
‘Marty is a talented young actor,’ Ivy explained, mollified by the explanation of the reason for the question. Probably the redhead would have reported him had he failed to ask it. ‘He’s just waiting for a chance to break into the big time. Well, he wanted to explain to me how he would play a part. So we stopped. You must be wondering why he was driving me out there instead of my husband?’
‘The thought never entered my head,’ Brad said, so convincingly that he might have been telling the truth.
‘It’s quite harmless,’ Ivy purred, then puffed at her cigarette. ‘Arnold, my husband, is attending a business meeting tonight. So Marty offered to take me. We—Arnold and I—didn’t think it would be safe for me to drive out to the lodge alone—’
‘So you stopped the car on the turn-off?’ Alice put in.
‘Only for a short time,’ Ivy answered sharply. ‘ Marty couldn’t explain how he would play the part while he was driving.’ She did not speak the words ‘So there!’ but they were present in her manner. Instead she looked at Brad. Stubbing out her cigarette, she sat a little straighter and was clearly approaching the dramatic climax of her story. ‘Suddenly the left side front door opened and this man was there. Lordy lord! It was weird I—’
‘How so?’ Brad inquired, figuring the question to be expected.
‘Why, the way he dressed. He might have stepped straight out of a Western movie; the hat, clothes, he had one of those gunbelts, even a revolver like Matt Dillon uses in Gunsmoke.’
‘A Peacemaker?’ Brad ejaculated.
‘I don’t know what it’s called. But it was just like the one Matt Dillon uses, with a white handle and the same long barrel.’
‘A Cavalry Model Peacemaker,’ Brad breathed, for he knew the type of revolver used by James Arness when playing Matt Dillon on the Gunsmoke television shows.
‘If you say so,’ Ivy replied accommodatingly. ‘He even wore a bandana around his face for a mask, just like a baddie in a Western movie.’
‘Can you describe him?’ Brad asked, putting aside the matter of the gun.
To one side of her partner and Ivy, Alice had taken a seat on one of the chairs. Already she had a pen and notebook in her hands, resting on the shoulder bag as she wrote down the conversation. Designed by Pete Ludwig for use by female peace officers, the bag was roomy enough to hold her I.D. wallet, handcuffs, Colt Commander .45 automatic pistol in a detachable holster, two spare magazines and other items of use in her work.
‘He was tall,’ Ivy answered. ‘But not as tall as you. Maybe an inch or so shorter, and without your physique. Well built, perhaps, but not exceptional.’ Her eyes roved over Brad’s powerful frame with open admiration. ‘Like I said, he was dressed like a cowboy. A black hat like they wear, black and white vest, gray shirt, Levis pants and high-heeled boots. And the gunbelt. It was wide, you’ve seen the kind I mean, with bullets in the loops on it.’
Searching the woman’s face, Brad could see nothing to suggest that she lied or made up the description. A glance at Alice told him that she had reached the same conclusion—and yet a man dressed like an old-West owlhoot seemed just a mite hard to take.
‘What happened after he opened the door?’ Brad wanted to know.
‘He ordered us out of the car. Marty went first and, as I followed, he tried to jump the man—isn’t that what you call it?’
‘It’ll do.’
‘I—I’ve never seen anybody move so quickly,’ Ivy continued. His arm just flashed out, the man’s I mean, then the barrel of his revolver struck Marty and he dropped like a log. I thought he was dead. Then the man turned on me, shoved his revolver into my stomach and told me not to make a sound. I didn’t. I was terrified. Alone, defenseless, I was at his mercy—’
At that moment the patrolman entered, carrying a tray. Crossing the room, he set it down on the divan. After a long stare at Ivy’s legs, he began to pour out cups of coffee. On handing one to Alice, he favored her with a broad wink but made no comment.
‘He didn’t harm you, did he?’ Brad inquired as Ivy nursed her cup and sipped appreciatively at its contents.
‘No. He just holstered his gun and told me to give him my handbag—’
‘He holstered his gun?’ Alice repeated.
‘That’s what I said,’ Ivy replied. ‘Perhaps you would have tried to jump him, but I don’t have your—training.’
‘I’d say you did the right thing, not trying it,’ Brad consoled the blonde.
‘I know I did,’ Ivy sniffed, her scorn directed at Alice. ‘After he had emptied my billfold, he put it in the bag and returned it to me. Then, while he was emptying Marty’s wallet, I just moved slightly. He came up to his feet and drew his gun like lightning. It was so fast that I hardly saw his hand move.’
‘How much did he take from you?’ Brad asked.
‘About a hundred and eighty dollars. They were mostly ten-dollar bills.’
‘In new notes, or old? If they were new, Miss Fayde and I might be able to learn their serial numbers.’
‘They weren’t new,’ Ivy replied, as if confessing to a serious breach of social etiquette.
‘He only took money?’ Alice put in.
‘Yes. I offered him this bracelet, but he refused it. That surprised me, it’s quite valuable. So are my rings and necklace, but he said he didn’t want them and I didn’t argue about it.’
‘What happened when he drew on you?’ Brad asked. ‘Nothing. He saw that I wasn’t trying anything. Then he made me go around the car, put Marty into the back seat and left.’
‘On foot?’
‘That was the last I saw of him, Mr. Counter. Going through the trees. As soon as he was out of sight, I climbed into the car and drove away.’
‘You didn’t hear the sound of another engine from the direction he went?’
‘No. I just got away as quickly as I could.’
Continuing her story under Brad’s gentle probing, Ivy mentioned that the owlhoot had not been wearing gloves. Further questioning brought out the fact that, although he had wiped the door handles with his handkerchief, he left Hoopler’s looted wallet where it fell when he discarded it to draw his Colt. Ivy admitted that she had been too concerned with escape, and obtaining medical aid for her escort, to think of picking up the wallet.
After hearing Ivy’s story, Alice asked the patrolman if he knew anything about Hoopler’s condition. As she expected, the officer had taken time to ask questions while collecting the coffee. Raising his eyes from their perusal of the blonde’s legs, he told the deputies that Hoopler had a fractured skull, was under sedation and would be unable to answer questions until the following evening at the earliest.
‘Finish your coffee, Mrs. Monoghan,’ Alice suggested, closing her notebook and returning it to the Pete Ludwig bag. ‘Then, if you’ll help this officer make out his report, my partner will go and attend to a few routine matters. After that, we’d like you to come out in our car and show us where it happened.’
‘It’ll be a big help if you’ll do that for us,’ Brad went on.
‘Of course I’ll do it,’ Ivy declared, looking straight at the blond giant, ‘if you want me to.’
Four
‘Give her five more minutes and she’d’ve been crawling into the front of your shirt,’ Alice told Brad coldly as they left the Hospita
l Detail’s room.
‘It’s the old Counter charm working,’ the big blond grinned. ‘What do you reckon, boss-lady?’
‘I don’t know,’ Alice admitted frankly, leading the way towards a row of public telephones near the main entrance of the reception hall. ‘Like she said, it’s weird. This hombre dresses like an owlhoot in a Western movie, empties her billfold and the boyfriend’s wallet, but doesn’t take jewelry and a cigarette case which would bring around a thousand dollars from a fence. Still, that could have been a smart move.’
‘Could have,’ Brad conceded. ‘Dressed that way, he’ll stick out like a sore thumb on the streets.’
‘If he’s on them,’ Alice agreed. ‘I’ll have Mac put out an A.P.B. for him. When he hears the description, he’ll think I’ve flipped.’
‘One thing about it gets me,’ Brad drawled. ‘If he’s toting a Cavalry Model Peacemaker, how does he make a real fast draw?’
‘Matt Dillon does it,’ Alice reminded him.
‘James Arness’s way over six foot tall, must have some Counter blood in him,’ Brad replied. ‘It can be done by a real tall man, but I’d say nobody under six foot could make a fast draw with a barrel that long.’
‘You’re the gun expert, Brad. Now me, I was wondering if maybe there could be another motive behind the robbery.’
‘Such as?’
‘She’s cheating on her husband, and not for the first time from the way Connie Storm talked about her. Maybe he got wise to it and planned to throw a bad scare into her and Hoopler?’
‘She’d have recognized him,’ Brad objected.
‘Likely,’ Alice agreed. ‘Unless he hired it done. Or she could have tapped Hoopler over the head herself and made up the whole story.’
‘If she had, she’d’ve made up something a whole heap more likely-sounding.’
‘Or figured that’s what we’d think and played a double bluff.’
With that Alice entered one of the booths. Taking up the telephone’s receiver, she dialed McCall’s number. On hearing the First Deputy’s broad Scottish accent, Alice told him the story received from Ivy Monoghan. Even the stoical Scot could not hold back a startled exclamation on hearing the description of the robber. However, he agreed to have Central Control send out an all points bulletin for a watch to be kept in case the owlhoot tried to go through the city in his old-fashioned clothes. That was merely routine, Alice, Brad and McCall all expected that the man would have changed into something less conspicuous before appearing on the streets.
‘I told Mac we’d radio in if we need a cameraman or lab crew at the scene of the crime,’ Alice told her partner on leaving the booth. ‘He’ll have somebody from Latent Prints come over and dust the car’s door handles in case the owlhoot didn’t wipe them clean.’
‘Be as well,’ Brad agreed and looked across the hall. ‘Here she comes. I’ll go and fetch our heap around.’
‘I hope this doesn’t take long,’ Ivy announced irritably as she joined Alice.
‘We’ll get through as quickly as we can,’ Alice assured her.
Neither of them spoke again until Brad drove up to the front of the building in the Oldsmobile. Taking the lead through the doors, Alice reached the car ahead of Ivy and looked over her shoulder at the blonde.
‘You’ll have to go in the back, Mrs. Monoghan. It’s regulations.’
Ignoring the indignant sniff from behind her, Alice slid into the seat at Brad’s side. Ivy climbed sulkily into the rear and moved across until she sat behind the blond deputy. I’ve fetched a spotlight from the boot, Alice,’ Brad remarked as he started the Oldsmobile moving. ‘We may need it.’
‘Sure,’ Alice replied. ‘Tell us when we reach the turn-off, Mrs. Monoghan.’
‘I will,’ Ivy promised icily. Then her tone warmed up. ‘Mr. Counter—or can I call you “Bradford”?—Didn’t I see you at the Heverens’ Christmas ball last year?’
‘I was invited, but couldn’t make it,’ Brad replied.
Sensing that the blonde might start taking them through the Upton Heights’ social register in search of mutual friends, Alice cut in with a question about the owlhoot. While leaving town along the State Auto Road, the deputies learned about his way of speaking.
‘What does “make wolf-bait” mean, Bradford?’ Ivy asked after mentioning the threat.
‘To kill,’ the blond answered. ‘In the old days, if a rancher had trouble with wolves, he used to shoot a steer or old horse and either poison the carcass or use it as a lure to gather the wolves around so he could shoot them. So if you made wolf-bait of a man, you’d killed him.’
‘Oh! But why would he say that he’d blow smoke in Marty’s face?’
‘“Blow” or “throw”?’
‘It could have been either, Bradford. Wait, I think it was “throw”.’
‘It’s another of the old-time range sayings,’ Brad explained. ‘The bullets that the cowhands used were loaded with black powder and it threw out a big cloud of smoke when it was touched off. So they’d say that they’d thrown smoke in his face if they had to shoot at another man.’
‘You certainly know a lot about the old West,’ Ivy complimented. ‘But of course, your great-grandfather was the Mark Counter, wasn’t he?’
‘Did the man who robbed you look like anybody you know, Mrs. Monoghan?’ Alice inquired before Brad could reply.
‘He was masked!’ Ivy snapped.
‘I mean did his build, or any of his mannerisms remind you of anybody?’
‘Not that I can think of,’ Ivy answered, ‘but so few of my friends go around robbing people.’
‘And he didn’t remind you of anybody?’ Alice insisted. ‘A tradesman, one of your husband’s employees, like that.’
‘The only thing he reminded me of was the baddie in a Western movie,’ Ivy insisted, then pointed over Brad’s shoulder. ‘That’s the turn-off.’
‘You couldn’t get to Euclid along there,’ Brad objected. ‘That’s where your hunting lodge is, you told us.’
‘Did I?’ Ivy gasped. ‘I must have been confused. But this is definitely the turn-off we went along.’
Knowing that further questioning would be met by evasive answers or direct lies, Alice and Brad let the matter of Ivy’s destination slide. Alice connected the plug of the hand-spotlight’s long cord to the socket on the Oldsmobile’s dashboard and asked how far Ivy had gone along the track before stopping.
‘No more than half a mile,’ the blonde guessed.
Swinging the Oldsmobile on to the track, Brad reduced its speed to a crawl. As they turned a corner, they saw a convertible parked without lights at the side of the track. Its occupants bounced away from each other as Alice directed the spotlight’s beam on to them.
‘They must have come later,’ Ivy said. ‘I know I didn’t see another car as I drove out.’
Seeing the convertible did not surprise the deputies, nor did finding another car parked in a similar manner further along. Once again Ivy insisted that it had not been there as she left the scene of the crime. Although Alice illuminated the second vehicle in passing, causing the man and woman on the front seat to separate hurriedly and glare in her direction, she saw nothing suspicious and the Oldsmobile went by without stopping. The turn-offs were much used by Gusher City couples as lovers’ lanes.
Leaning out of the window, Alice directed the spotlight’s beam across the Oldsmobile’s bonnet and at the left side of the track. After covering slightly over half a mile, they turned a corner and the light picked out something brown against the green of the grass under a large white oak tree. Even as the deputies identified the brown object as a wallet, Ivy announced hesitantly that she thought they had reached the spot where she and Hoopler had parked.
Telling Ivy to stay in the car, Alice opened her door and swung out. Moving across the seat, Brad collected a powerful flashlight from the glove compartment and left through Alice’s door. Once glance at the hard surface of the track told him that the precaution had been
unnecessary. There was no hope of finding footprints or tire marks on it. Nor would the springy, short grass be better for retaining visual signs of the robber’s presence.
‘Which way did he go, Mrs. Monoghan?’ Alice asked.
‘There,’ Ivy answered, pointing through the window she had opened towards the trees. ‘Y-You’re not going to leave me here alone while you go after him?’
‘We aren’t going after him,’ Alice replied.
Instead of being assured, Ivy let out an indignant squeal of, ‘You mean that you’re just going to let him get away with it?’
‘No, Mrs. Monoghan,’ Alice replied patiently, starting to coil the long cord of the spotlight. ‘We’re not going to let him get away with it. But we can’t see well enough with a flashlight to find and follow his tracks. In the morning, as soon as it’s light, the Scientific Investigation Bureau’s search specialists will be out here looking for evidence.’
‘But he’ll be gone by then!’ Ivy protested.
‘He’s gone now,’ Alice pointed out. ‘If we start blundering around in the dark, we’ll spoil any chance of S.I.B.’s experts finding his tracks.’