The Brass Cupcake

by John D. MacDonald

  Powy edged by me as Melody stood up and moved away from Gilman. “What goes on here?” he demanded.

  I was very proud of Melody. She put her chin up and there was ice in her voice. “I might ask you the same thing, Chief Powy. The other day you gave me the impression that you are anxious to find who killed my aunt.”

  “Why, I certainly am, Miss Chance,” he said.

  “Don’t let her smoke-screen you, Chief,” Gilman said with a faint sneer in his tone.

  “Will you kindly ask that—that officer to be still?” Melody said.

  “Shut up, Gil,” Powy rumbled. Gilman shrugged.

  “If what you are doing about the death of my aunt’s chauffeur is any indication of how sincere you were…”

  “Would you get to the point, Miss Chance?”

  I saw the blush creeping up her slender throat. “I found out you arrested Mr. Bartells for murder, Chief Powy.”

  “So?”

  “So Mr. Bartells couldn’t possibly have killed Horace Franklin.”

  I couldn’t decide what she was driving at. I must have worn a stupid look. She gave me a warning glance.

  “Just how do you figure that?” Powy said, using his fatherly tone.

  “Mr. Bartells was with me.”

  Powy pursed his lips. “With you? Now, that’s interesting. Just how would you happen to know the time of death, Miss Chance?”

  She stared into space over the Chiefs head. “Horace Franklin was killed sometime during the night, wasn’t he?” she asked softly.

  We all realized what she was driving at at the same moment. Powy’s attitude up until that point had been quietly respectful, fatherly. He gave me a look of grudging respect.

  Gilman said, “That’s what she was telling me, Chief. So I was trying my luck. All they can do is say no.”

  I found my tongue. “Nice try, Melody. But it won’t work. Besides, there’s no point in it. They’re letting me go.”

  “Don’t try to protect me, Cliff,” she said.

  Powy stared at her. “You never can tell, can you?” he said heavily.

  I turned toward him. “Damnit, she’s lost her marbles. Check on it. Look. Get hold of Marty Mennick. Ask him what time I called him last night, and from where.”

  Powy looked confused. Gilman grinned, moved closer to Melody, and muttered something that only she could hear. Her hand flashed around and her palm bounced off his hard cheek. She walked toward me with precarious dignity. “Will you take me home, please, Cliff?”

  I took her by the elbow. “A pleasure,” I said.

  We went out the door before Powy could decide what to do. I hurried her down the corridor and down the wide stone steps in front. She dug her car keys out of her purse and said, “I parked over there, Cliff. By the drugstore.”

  The windows were up and the little gray Chevvy was like a Dutch oven inside. As I started the motor I looked across the street and saw Gilman standing at the top of the steps, still grinning, as he watched us.

  I yanked the little car out into traffic and gunned it down to the corner, barely beating the light.

  Down near the causeway bridge there is a parking space on the bay shore where some old trees, bearded with gray moss, give shade. She didn’t object as I turned into the parking space and parked in the shade. We both got out of the car. I walked around and took the cigarette pack out of her hand, and held a light for both of us. She inhaled deeply and shuddered slightly as she exhaled. Her hand trembled as she took the cigarette from her lips.

  “A great act,” I said. “Maybe Metro will buy it.”

  “Shut up,” she said wearily.

  “Lovely heiress slanders self to free accused. No. They won’t buy it. It’s too fresh off the cob.”

  “Will you please shut up?”

  “One thing baffles me a little, Miss Chance. How do you know I didn’t help Horace into his reward?”

  The eyes went wide and they looked greener than I had seen them before. “But you told me you didn’t!”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “I give up. I really give up.”

  “After what happened, I had to find you, Cliff.” She turned away from me and looked out across the bay. All I could see of her face was the bold curve of the left cheekbone, the dark tip of an eyebrow, the rounded tip of her nose.

  “Call me Chloe.”

  She whirled around and there was gray lightning in her eyes. “What’s happened to you? What did they do to you in there?”

  Inadvertently I looked down at the back of my hand. She followed the direction of my glance and I heard her sharp intake of breath. The act of driving had broken the crust that had formed across the deep burn. “Oh,” she said softly. She went to the glove compartment and came back with a small first-aid kit in a khaki case. She put it on top of the hood and opened it. “Hold your hand out, Cliff.” The ointment was cool and pleasant. The little gauze pad covered the place, and the two strips of adhesive held it down.

  She tried to smile. “Don’t tell me they burned you?” she said scoffingly.

  I could have said no. But I was the small boy on the schoolyard showing his scars to the girl in the blue hair ribbon. I was chinning myself on the low branch of the apple tree. I was diving into the old quarry from the highest rock.

  So I let her read the answer in my eyes. “But, Cliff! That sort of thing—it just doesn’t happen! My God, this isn’t Spain at the time of the Inquisition!”

  “Wake up!” I said. “Take a good look around. Do you believe everything you read in the newspapers?”

  “Those men—they ought to be punished, Cliff. People ought to know about things like this.”

  “Sure. I’ll make out a notarized statement. Do you think it’ll hit the front page? Do you think I’ll get a medal? Nuts, Melody. I can’t prove anything.”

  A breeze off the bay stirred the hem of her black dress. “Cliff, I had to get you out of there. Any way I could. There’s nobody else.”

  “I’m surprised you’ve stayed out of trouble this long, the way you go around trusting people.”

  “If I’m wrong this time, I’ll find out sooner or later. Listen to me, Cliff. We had the little meeting in Mr. Rainey’s room. He read the will as though it hurt his mouth. The codicil is very peculiar. I can’t tell you the legal way it was written, but here’s what it says: I’m to get an income of four hundred a month until I marry Furny. Then I get the whole estate. If I don’t marry him and don’t marry anyone, I get the four hundred a month for the rest of my life, and when I die, the estate goes to Furny if he’s still living. If he has married and has died, the estate goes to his heirs. If he has died without marrying, the estate reverts to the State of Massachusetts. If I marry someone else, the income ceases until my oldest child is twenty-one. A trust fund is established that will give each child a hundred dollars a month for life when he or she reaches twenty-one. After the trust funds are set up, the balance of the estate goes to Furny, or his heirs or the State of Massachusetts, as the case may be at that time.”

  “How did Trumbull act?”

  “He was nervous at first, and still very annoyed with me. He brought along a young loud-mouthed lawyer. Then when he found out what the codicil meant, he began to look so terribly smug. He leaned back in the chair and beamed.”

  “I can see why Rainey felt that the will could be broken. I don’t think that a will can be set up in such a way as to coerce you into marrying a specific person. It can have different arrangements in case you marry anybody or stay single, but I don’t think that it can be set up the way she has it and stick.”

  “From the way Furny’s lawyer acted, I think you’re right. But all that isn’t important. The conference was short and I left at about twenty after twelve. I had a quick lunch downstairs, and I was worrying about you and that woman. I decided to go back and change before finding out what happened to you. I went into my room and it was just like I had left it. That horrible woman hadn’t cleaned up yet. Right on the floor, almo
st under the bed, there was a ring.”

  Her lips had begun to tremble. I took hold of her hands. “Take it easy, Melody.”

  “That’s why I’ve been so frightened, Cliff. So desperately frightened. That’s why I went down there when I found out they were holding you and tried to get you out. It was one of Aunt Elizabeth’s favorites. A good star ruby in an antique gold setting.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I—I left it there. I just happened to see it by accident just as I was about to take my dress off. I stood for a long time staring at it, and just the thought of having it there in my room made me feel as if I couldn’t breathe. I listened and I couldn’t hear any sound anywhere. So I ran, Cliff. I ran.”

  It made no sense to me. I even looked at her to see if there was any evidence that she was faking her fear.

  “You left the ring there?”

  “I didn’t touch it, Cliff.”

  “Come on, then. Get in the car.”

  I ran two lights getting there, while other cars honked indignantly. She sat with her hands locked in her lap, staring straight ahead. I pulled into the rutted drive of the Coral Strand and nosed in to a stop near her door.

  Her door was open. “Did you leave it that way? Open?”

  “I—I can’t remember.”

  I went ahead of her. Through the screen, in the dimness of the room, I could make out somebody sitting on the unmade bed, a dark shadow against the sheets.

  I pushed the door open. Furness Trumbull gave me a thin-lipped smile. Melody came in behind me. “What are you doing in here, Furny?”

  “Waiting for you, my dear.”

  “How did you get in?” I asked him.

  “I’ll pretend you have the right to ask, Bartells. I do have the name right? The old woman took pity on me. It was hot there in the sun. She lent me the extra key.”

  “For a consideration,” Melody said casually. She walked over toward the bureau. I could see that she was trying to get to an angle where she could inconspicuously look behind Furny’s legs.

  He turned blandly and watched her. She bent over so that she could see her reflection in the low mirror. She smoothed a strand of hair back over her right ear. “Do we have anything to talk about, Furny?” she asked.

  “I suppose your dear friend Bartells must share these tender moments?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think I would have insisted that he stay anyway, my dear. You see, I am in somewhat of a state of shock. I’ve been sitting here, trying to make sense of everything.”

  “You can’t quite believe that I’m still saying no?” she asked, acid-sweet.

  “Well, you did make it rather humiliatingly evident in front of Mr. Rainey and Mr. Barkaw. Let me see if I can quote you exactly. ‘I’ll be quite satisfied with four hundred a month from now on.’”

  “Why did you come here, Furny?”

  “Since coming, I’ve changed my mind. Originally I came to try to make a compromise. Since you find me so distasteful since Elizabeth died, I thought we might be married here. I would leave immediately for the North and you could stay here and establish residence and get a Florida divorce. It’s quite simple, they tell me. I would promise not to make any attempt to exercise my prerogatives as husband. That would satisfy the codicil. I thought that it would be worth a hundred thousand to you to get your hands on four hundred thousand. I didn’t think I was being too greedy. What do you think, Mr. Bartells?”

  I glanced over at Melody. From the way she held her mouth I knew that she had taken a good look under the bed when Furny had turned to me. And I knew that the ring was no longer there.

  “If you’ve changed your mind about suggesting the compromise, Trumbull,” I said, “then the question is pretty academic, isn’t it?”

  He leaned back across the bed, his elbows behind him, propped up at an angle. “This is a dreadful room, Melly.”

  She walked to the edge of the bed, looking down at him. “Come on, Furny. I know you very well. You’re a poor poker player. What is it?”

  He no longer smiled. “There have been certain things that I haven’t understood. They have puzzled me. Little things, Melody. This sudden great friendship for—for a small-time insurance adjuster. Your refusing to live with Elizabeth. I suppose most of us are pretty dense when we come face to face with this sort of situation. The blonde, the booty, and the small-town crook. Neither of you, by yourselves, would have the guts to go through with it, I imagine. But Mr. James M. Cain has enlightened us on the false courage that an illicit affair gives a pair of fools, hasn’t he? Remember Double Indemnity? I always suspected you of having a savage streak, Melody. How did you work it? I can imagine. Elizabeth would have opened the door for you, Melly. You could have put it off the latch for your friend here. I rather imagine he struck the blow. He has that look, you know. Maybe you don’t see it now. I think you’ll see it later, after you’ve had a chance to get a little weary of each other.”

  “Just what are you trying to say?” Melody asked.

  He brought one hand around in front of him and opened his fist. The blood-red stone lay on his broad palm. It picked up a shard of light from the window.

  “So careless of you, dear,” he whispered.

  “I came back here and I found it on the floor! I came back here and found it!” Her voice was thin.

  “Of course you did. Poor Elizabeth. She died between midnight and two. And I knew that you, Melly, couldn’t have done such a terrible thing, so I was gallant. I forgot to mention the little quarrel we had. I told them that we were together until four in the morning and you told me that was very decent of me.”

  She backed away from him. “But I told you! I walked on the beach. I walked and walked until I was exhausted. Furny, you can’t possibly…”

  I took her gently by the shoulders and turned her around. Her eyes were wide and wild. “Easy,” I said. “Easy! Let him make his offer.”

  “Now you’re talking sense,” Trumbull said. “I’m not a fool, and I don’t intend to be quixotic. Elizabeth was a dear friend, but she’s dead, and punishing you, Melly, won’t bring her back to life. I’m a reasonable sort. But now I don’t have to plead any more. I think we’d better get married. It will be the same arrangement as I suggested before, but with one slight change.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Half,” he said. “A full half.”

  “Or?”

  “Or I regretfully go to the police and give them this ring and tell them where I found it. I then explain why I lied about Melody’s being with me that evening. I’m certain they’ll appreciate how clever it all is. The one man who can most safely profit from the theft of the stones is the man empowered to buy them back in the name of the company. And it will be easy to prove that you, Melody, knew nothing of the codicil to the will until today. That must have been a rude shock.”

  She put her hands to the sides of her head. “This is all crazy!”

  “Elizabeth showed me a few of those letters you wrote her when you returned gifts she sent you, Melody. I saved a few of them.”

  “Go and take a walk, Melody,” I said.

  She held tightly to my arm. “No, Cliff. That won’t help. We’ve got to make him see that this is absurd.”

  I smiled at her. “Give up, baby. He’s got us. Let’s not be greedy. There’s enough for everybody.”

  Furny’s eyes widened momentarily. He said, “That’s a sane attitude.”

  “So let’s not pressure each other,” I said, “or somebody will get excited and make mistakes. She can’t marry you this minute, you know. Give it a few days. But we’ll have to be able to trust you, Furny. At the time of her marriage we’ll want the arrangement written out and signed by all three of us, just in case. She’ll settle half the estate on you.”

  Melody began to laugh. It climbed into hysteria, the tears squeezing out of her eyes. I slapped her out of it. The aching sounds stopped abruptly. She moved slowly away from me, backing up step by s
tep, staring at me as though I were something incredibly evil. Oddly enough, she had never looked more lovely than she did at that moment.

  “Naughty, naughty,” a voice with a faint suggestion of a lisp said from just outside the screen door. “Slapping women.”

  Harry and Larry Kreshak stood looking in at us.

  “Will you come along nice?” Larry asked. “Tony’s real upset. You’re making him nervous.” They shouldered their way in. “He’s beginning to think you’re avoiding him.” Hands clamped on my arms above the elbows, numbing my fingers. “Come nice, laddy.”

  10

  THE CREAM-COLORED Cadillac was parked down in front of the office. The greasy female Buddha stood squinting in the sun, staring up at the three of us.

  “Get your hands off me,” I said.

  “Now, laddy. We’re just a couple of aging beach boys trying to get along.”

  I tried to make my tone reasonable. “Look. I don’t want to leave the girl back there with Trumbull. I’ll come right along.”

  “Tony said to bring you, Bartells. He didn’t say urge you.”

  We approached the car. The motor was purring softly. The top was down and the boot on. With the two hands on me, I couldn’t move. But I knew that one of them was going to have to let go of me to put me in the car. I had taken enough pushing around for one day—for the rest of my life, if it came to that

  Larry was on my left. They walked me up to the right-hand door. Larry opened the door and let go as Harry shoved me into the seat. I brought my left arm around and stabbed at Harry’s eyes with my spread fingers. He was quick enough to see it coming, and he let go of my arm and dodged back. I slid across the seat, slapping the gear arm up, stamping on the gas with my left foot before I had hold of the wheel.

  Larry was trying to swarm in after me as the big cream-colored car leaped backward. The open door knocked him flat as the old lady screamed. I got behind the wheel and got the automatic shift arm into the right position. Larry was picking himself up, spitting sand, and Harry was running toward the car. I swung it toward him and he changed his mind. He turned and tried to run across toward the high hedge on the other side. The big car rocked after him and he started screaming as he ran. The rear wheels spun in the sand. He tried to cut to the side when he was still five steps ahead of me. I swung toward him, got him centered, and then swung hard right just as I made contact. The front left fender bunted him squarely in the seat of the tailored slacks. He pinwheeled once in the air before he hit the top of the hedge. I jammed on the brakes with the nose of the car buried in the hedge as I heard the sick thud he made as he struck the stucco back wall of the neighboring tourist court.