In Plain Sight

by Barbara Block

  Ray didn’t answer. As if roused by my thoughts, the bat in his hands began to shiver.

  “Let him go,” I said.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  I shrugged. “Have it your own way, but it looks to me as if he’s getting ready to bite.”

  Ray quickly uncupped his hands. The bat flittered around the van. I instinctively ducked. So did Ray. A few seconds later the bat found the opening and disappeared into the night. As I watched him go I wondered if he’d be able to find his way home. Then I turned to Ray.

  “I think we have a lot to discuss,” I told him.

  Ray briefly touched the top of his hair with an unsteady hand, then brought it back down and brushed a nonexistent speck of dirt off his black T-shirt. “Look, all I know is I was supposed to pick up these bats at the barn, they was supposed to be outside the barn in this carton, but I didn’t see no carton. No one was around.”

  “That must have been annoying.”

  Ray didn’t respond to my sarcasm. His glance had turned inward as if he was communing with himself. “I don’t like it out there,” he said, more to himself than to me.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too quiet. It gives me the creeps, especially at night. Merlin thinks it’s funny me feeling that way.”

  “Anything else?” I prompted.

  Ray wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I thought I heard someone ...” he allowed. Then his voice trailed away.

  “Someone where?”

  “Inside the barn. But when I called out no one answered.”

  “And you didn’t get out and investigate?”

  “No. I left.”

  “In spite of the fact that you hadn’t done what you’d come to do?”

  “I got nervous.” Ray glared at me, daring me to make a crack. I managed to resist the temptation. “Who the fuck knows what was in there?”

  “Maybe it was a ghost.”

  “Maybe it was.” Ray sounded defensive. “The place is supposed to be haunted.”

  “By who? Casper?”

  “No. By this guy that got himself killed out there. They never found the body.”

  “Where’d you hear that from?”

  “People.”

  “What people?”

  Ray looked embarrassed. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Fine.” I pointed to the bat-filled carton. “So how did those get into the van? Did they just materialize?”

  Ray let out a short bark of a laugh. “Very funny. No. Merlin went and got them. He had to ’cause I told him I wasn’t going out there no more.”

  I reached out my hands. “Give me the box.”

  Ray took a step back. “Merlin won’t like that.”

  “You’re right. He won’t.”

  “What happens if I don’t?”

  “Then I’ll call the police.”

  “Go ahead. They won’t care about some bats in a box.”

  “That’s true, but they will care when they find out you’ve been breaking into people’s houses.”

  Ray turned even paler. “But I never took anything.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s still breaking and entering.”

  “But Merlin said it would be all right,” Ray whined.

  “You shouldn’t believe everything Merlin says.”

  “But then he’s in trouble, too.”

  I painted a half circle in the air with my hand. “I can see it all now. The DA asks Merlin, ‘Did you tell your employee to do this?’ ‘No,’ Merlin says looking outraged. ‘I never would suggest anything like that.’ What do you think? Does it play for you?”

  In answer Ray turned around, walked over and picked up the carton. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “I guess I’d bet ter start looking for another job now.”

  “Well, Merlin never exactly did strike me as the charitable type.” I nodded toward the carton with my chin. “How many bats are in here?”

  Ray shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe five or six.”

  “Whose houses were you supposed to be putting them in?”

  “Merlin was going to call me up and tell me.”

  “Do you know how he gets the names?”

  “I think out of the phone book.” Ray scratched his cheek. “I got a sister out in Phoenix. Maybe I should go visit her.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “I hear they got lots of bugs down there.”

  “Not to mention scorpions and snakes.”

  Ray chewed on his cheek. “I wonder how much I’d get paid for killing them?”

  “You like killing things?”

  “I like killing stuff like this. It’s fun watching them scurrying around trying to get away.”

  “I prefer video games myself.”

  Ray paused to scratch his chin. “I wonder if that’s the way God feels?”

  “I sincerely hope not.”

  Ray grinned. “I bet he does.”

  Suddenly I thought of something else. “Did Estrella know about the bats in the barn?” I asked, changing the subject to something a little less metaphysical.

  The grin vanished from Ray’s face. “Why?”

  “I was just curious. You took her up to the house ...”

  “To visit her mother ...”

  “Exactly. And now her mother is gone and she’s dead. It makes me wonder.”

  “What are you saying?” Ray demanded.

  “I’m asking what the connection is.”

  “There isn’t any.”

  “Are you so sure? Did Estrella know Merlin?”

  “I think they met a few times,” Ray stuttered.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

  Ray looked at the floor. “Sometimes she’d do stuff for him to earn a little extra cash.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “Stuff. Like answering the phones.”

  “Did she know about the bats?” I repeated.

  Ray shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Does the farm belong to Merlin?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Ray turned his back to me. He was finished talking.

  “You want my advice,” I told him as I left “Get on that bus to Phoenix.”

  When I got into the cab Ray was still standing where I’d left him. I had the feeling he’d stay that way for a while.

  The squeaking of the bats filled the cab as I drove over to Merlin’s house. He wasn’t home, so I continued on to Shirley’s place. I cruised around the complex’s parking lot till I spotted his car; then I drove over to Shirley’s town house, parked the car out front and got out. I was humming as I rang the bell. Merlin answered the door. He didn’t look pleased to see me. Shirley joined him a moment later. She looked even less happy than he did.

  “You again,” she snarled.

  I allowed as to how it was.

  “Go away.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  Standing there together in the door they reminded me of a pair of trolls guarding the bridge to the castle.

  “This time I’m calling the police,” Shirley threatened. The house light was shining down, and I could see patches of scalp under her frizzy hair. “You can’t come in here and bother us anytime you feel like it. That’s harassment.”

  “Go ahead and call,” I told her, “but I think your boyfriend here may be interested in what I have to say.”

  Merlin jabbed his finger in my direction. “Nothing you say could interest me.”

  “That’s too bad, because I have something of yours.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll show you.” I went back to the cab, got the box I’d taken from Ray, and held it out to him. “A carton full of bats.”

  Merlin’s eyelids began twitching so fast they looked as if they were sending out semaphore signals. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “They were in the company van. I just got them from Ray Diamond.”

  “You can’t hold me res
ponsible for what that kid does,” he told me. The tics had stopped. He’d gotten hold of himself again.

  “He said he got them from you.”

  Merlin made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “The kid smokes too much dope. He’s delusional.”

  “I wonder if the DA will think that.”

  “The DA won’t believe anything that kid says. He’s got a record. I was being a nice guy hiring him.” Merlin’s smile was smug. He did smug well.

  “Tell me, do you own the farm or do you just trespass when you get the bats?”

  “Screw you.”

  “I can find out easily enough,” I told Merlin while I watched Shirley out of the corner of my eye to see what her reaction was.

  She looked confused. “Sweetie,” she asked him, “what’s this all about?”

  “Nothing. It’s about nothing. She”—he pointed to me—“is making a big deal about nothing.”

  “Why don’t you tell her what you’re doing,” I urged.

  “Tell me what?” Shirley asked. Her eyes were bright with worry.

  Merlin nodded toward me. “Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s crazy.”

  I turned to Shirley. “Your boyfriend has been having his help break into people’s homes and put bats in them. Then he comes and charges them about a thousand dollars to bat proof their house.”

  Merlin shrugged. “You got a complaint, take it up with the Better Business Bureau. Don’t bother me with it.”

  I leaned forward. “Tell me, did Marsha find out about what you were doing? Did she try and blackmail you?”

  Merlin sniggered. “Blackmail me for something like this? Don’t be stupid.”

  He was right. What he was engaged in was penny-ante stuff, really not worth anybody’s while. But then I thought of the papers Marsha had found, the ones she’d wanted to show me. Those could be a different matter. “Actually I was thinking more of the second set of books you’ve been keeping,” I said, playing a hunch.

  Merlin’s eyelids twitched again and I knew I’d hit home.

  Shirley looked at him with consternation. “You haven’t been doing anything like that, have you?” she asked anxiously. “You told me Marsha was—”

  Merlin turned on her before she could say anything else. “Keep your yap shut,” he snarled.

  “You said she was lying,” Shirley bleated.

  “I told you to shut the fuck up.” He raised his hand to hit her.

  Shirley flinched in anticipation of the blow to come. Evidently the two of them had played this scene before. Why wasn’t I surprised?

  “Don’t do it,” I warned Merlin.

  He whirled around and faced me. His lips were pulled back, showing his teeth. I was thinking he needed to see a good dentist when the blow came. I caught his wrist in midair.

  “I’m just going to say this once,” I told him. “I’m not Shirley and I’m not Marsha. Hit me and I’ll hurt you.”

  We stood there locked together, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Shirley tugging on Merlin’s shirt.

  “Please come inside,” she begged. “Please. Remember the neighbors.”

  “Fuck the neighbors,” Merlin hissed.

  But even as he said it I could feel the tension going out of Merlin’s arm. The crisis was over. I let go. Shirley put her arm around his shoulder and shepherded him into her town house and closed the door.

  I stood there for a moment remembering the time Murphy and I had done this. Only our scene had been worse.

  I couldn’t even recall what we’d been fighting about. Just that we’d had too much to drink and we were arguing. Then before I knew it Murphy had punched me in the stomach and the mouth. I was standing in front of the hall mirror looking at my split lip when the cops rang the bell. Our screaming had been loud enough to alarm the neighbors. I should have told the police what had happened, but I’d sent them away instead. I’d been too embarrassed.

  I shook my head in amazement. God, how could I have been such a jerk?

  It was a question that didn’t have an answer, or at least one I wanted to pursue, so I lit a cigarette and thought about Merlin instead.

  Marsha had tried to blackmail him. Of that I was sure.

  Was that the last straw? The thing that drove him to commit murder?

  Merlin had everything to gain and nothing to lose from Marsha’s death.

  Had he done it?

  I thought it was a distinct possibility.

  Chapter 34

  Three men were sitting at the bar nursing their drinks when I walked into Pete’s. I could feel their eyes on me as I sat down.

  Connie nodded and came over. She lowered her voice and put her mouth next to my ear. “Did you ever see such losers?” she whispered, indicating the men with a roll of her eyes. She straightened up without waiting for my answer. “George ever get in touch with you?”

  “No. We’ve been busy playing telephone tag. Did he say what he wanted?”

  “Let me think.” Connie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth while she tried to remember. “It was something about you being interested in what this girl had to say.”

  I lit a cigarette. “What girl? Does she have a name?”

  “It was ...” She put out her hand. “Hold it. It’s coming. It was Pam. Pam something.” She poured me a shot of Black Label.

  “Pam Tower?”

  She snapped her fingers. “That’s it. Who is she?”

  “A friend of Estrella Torres.”

  “The one that got killed?” Connie asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m glad I’m not growing up now,” Connie observed as she put my drink down in front of me.

  “Me, too,” I agreed. “Things were simpler then, well maybe not simpler, but they were safer.”

  “That’s for sure.” Connie paused to light a thin black cigar. It was her latest affectation. “I wouldn’t want to be a cop these days.”

  “Me either.” I took the conversation back to George. “When was he in here?”

  “A couple of days ago. Why?”

  “I can’t get hold of him.”

  “So?”

  “It’s starting to make me nervous.”

  “Maybe he’s busy.”

  “No. This thing with Pam is important. He would have called me back by now.”

  Connie leered. “Maybe he found something even more important.”

  “Jesus. Can’t you think of anything else but sex?”

  Connie batted her eyelashes. “You mean there is something else?”

  “Gimme a break.” I took a sip of Scotch.

  “No. Think about it. There’s sex and death.”

  “How about art, music, and literature?”

  “Sublimated sex.” Connie warmed to her topic.

  I listened to her with half an ear. I was too busy thinking about George and wondering if something was wrong. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that something was. When Connie paused for a breath I asked her for the phone.

  “I take it you’re calling George,” she said as she handed it to me.

  “You take it correctly.” I dialed his number. He didn’t answer. As his answering machine clicked in, the sense of unease I’d been experiencing grew. I handed the phone back to Connie. “I think I’m going to go drive by his house and see what’s up.”

  “Go ahead if that will make you happy, but if you’re asking me, I think he just got tired of the school thing and is shacked up somewhere with one of his bimbos.”

  “In this case I hope you’re right.”

  She sniggered. “Sure you do.”

  But I wasn’t lying. Connie’s scenario was preferable to some of the others I was conjuring up. I paid for the Scotch and left.

  I could feel the wind gusting when I stepped outside. It had set the canvas awnings dancing and the trash can covers rolling. I could feel the temperature falling. Another storm was sweeping in. As I
got in the cab I thought about what Connie had said back in the bar. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing. What if I got to his house and he opened the door? I’d feel like a total jerk. But then I decided, so be it, at least I’d stop worrying.

  On the drive over I tried to think about where George could possibly be, but I didn’t have much success. The truth was, even though I considered George my friend, when I thought about it I realized I didn’t really know that much about him. I didn’t know who his other friends were or how he spent his time. It was a sobering thought, one I didn’t very much like, and I was still contemplating what that meant when I pulled up in front of his house.

  I’d been hoping against hope that by some miracle George’s car would be sitting in the driveway, but God must have been busy elsewhere because the Taurus wasn’t there. As I walked from the curb to the house I noted that the lights in the living room were on, not that that meant much. I always left a light on when I wasn’t home. As I went through the motions of ringing the bell I noticed the mail box was stuffed with letters and magazines. My sense of disquiet grew.

  I lit a cigarette and thought about my options. I could go home and wait for a couple more days and see if George showed up, or I could go downtown and file a missing person’s report. But I didn’t see much point in that. Since there was no evidence of foul play the police wouldn’t do much—at least not for a while. And I didn’t want to wait. Which brought me to option number three. I took a look at the door and tried to remember whether George had ever said anything about his house having an alarm system. I didn’t think he had. Usually there was a decal warning that the house was protected. I didn’t see one here, but then it would be just like George not to put it on. I sighed. Oh, well. I’d find out soon enough. The worst that could happen was that I’d spend a night in the PSB before my lawyer bailed me out.

  George’s house proved to be easier to break into than I anticipated. For someone who was always after me to be more careful, he was amazingly lax about security when it came to himself. Keeping to the shadows thrown by the arborvitae, I walked around to the rear. First I tried the back door, which was locked; then I tried the kitchen window, which wasn’t. It took a little effort, I had to slam the sash with the palm of my hand a couple of times to get it moving, but I managed to open it up. I held my breath waiting to see if an alarm went off. Nothing happened. I glanced around. No one seemed to be up. The houses on both sides of me were dark. Everyone was asleep for the night.