"All’s well that ends well," Digger said and then strolled back toward the house.
Digger had just finished explaining everything to a state police lieutenant, who managed to look confused and annoyed at the same time. They were in another room in the Belton home, along with Koko and Mrs. Belton.
"And that’s it, Lieutenant," Digger said. "Mrs. Belton will confirm everything I said. And I guess Harker will too."
"I hate complicated cases like this," the lieutenant said.
"A man after my own heart," Digger said, and then a thought occurred to him.
"Lieutenant, how long can a person live in the trunk of a car?"
"I don’t know. Why?"
"’Cause the gatekeeper’s in the trunk of my car. It’s parked on the road outside," Digger said.
"Jesus Christ. Is there anything else you’ve done today to screw up Pennsylvania?"
"Well, there’s one thing," Digger said. "There’s this doctor in town. I’ve got him tied up and he ought to be getting pretty muscle-sore about now."
Driving back to Gus’s LaGrande Inn, Digger told Koko, "Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed your weekend with me in the country."
"Ahhh, the weekend’s over already and we didn’t get a chance to go horseback riding," she said.
Digger sighed. "I know. That’s the way it is, though. Time flies when you’re having fun."
Chapter Twenty
"This is Julian Burroughs, let me talk to Brackler."
"Just a moment, I’ll see if he’s in."
"Of course he’s in—let me talk to him."
"Just a moment, sir, I’ll see."
"I hope you give good head, because your telephone technique is crapola."
"I beg your pardon. What did you say?"
"Eight times I said, let me talk to Kwash. That you don’t hear. Once I make a personal comment and suddenly you’ve got bat ears. Let me talk to Kwash."
"I’ll see if he’s in."
"Kwash, how much money did I save the company up in Belton?"
"Well, you might say—"
"Might say, my ass. I saved you guys five hundred thousand dollars."
"All right. So what?"
"Then why did you cut down my expense check?"
"Digger, I’ve seen the way you dress. Don’t tell me that that ripped jacket cost four hundred fifty dollars and your trousers cost two hundred. Your whole wardrobe isn’t worth six hundred fifty dollars."
"Not if you’re talking about resale value," Digger said. "But there are other kinds of value."
"You’re telling me this jacket and pants had sentimental value?" Walter Brackler said.
"Yes, goddammit, they were a gift from my mother. She bought the jacket at Jacket City. The pants from Pants City. They’re irreplaceable. From my mother, God rest her soul."
"Your mother’s still alive; I saw her last month."
"Then God rest my soul," Digger said.
"I’ll give you a hundred bucks for the set," Brackler said.
"That’s ridiculous. Today, you can hardly buy a pair of pants for a hundred dollars. Much less a jacket."
"You can," Brackler said. "A hundred bucks."
"Three hundred," Digger said. "Not a penny less."
"Two hundred. Take it or leave it."
"You’re a hard man, Kwash."
"Take it or leave it."
"You’ve got no soul," Digger said.
"Two hundred. That’s it."
"I’ll take it," Digger said.
"I have this feeling I’m still being robbed," Brackler said.
"Best bargain you’ve ever made," Digger said. "Those garments were irreplaceable."
When he hung up the telephone, Koko called out from the kitchen of their Las Vegas condominium, "How’d you make out?"
"He cheated me out of four hundred and fifty dollars," Digger said.
"You’ll get even," she said.
"You bet I will." He lay in bed, smoking a cigarette, then picked up the telephone again, got a number from information and dialed.
"Hello, Flower City? This is Digger. I know, I know, your name’s not Flower City. I was thinking of something else. I’m okay. You? Good. Listen, I want to send some flowers to somebody. Yes. Her name is Ardath Gillette." He gave the address in Belton, Pennsylvania. "How much? Okay. Send her four hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of flowers. That’s right. Four hundred and fifty. Yeah. Right. And bill them to my company account. Right. That’s Brokers Surety Life Insurance. Thanks. No card. Be sure to mark the bill to the attention of Walter Brackler."
Lucifer's Weekend (Digger) Page 17