by Barbara Paul
“Ah. About that. It’s Algren we want put away.”
“The deal would be for a reduced sentence, not a dismissal of the charges. Algren’s not going to get off the hook, don’t worry.”
It wasn’t yet dark by the time they got to Shadyside. Sergeant Church dropped Megan off at her apartment building and waited until she unlocked the front door.
“Oh, Ms Phillips!” he called just as she was going in.
“Yes?”
“Don’t go hitting any more people with baseball bats, will you?” He winked and drove off, leaving Megan standing with her mouth open.
EPILOGUE
Gus sat in the living room of Megan’s new house, again looking covetously at her wall space and thinking of bookshelves. Megan had moved in two days earlier; it wouldn’t do for a vice president of Glickman Pharmaceuticals to go on living in a Howe Street apartment.
It was a nice house. Megan was quite pleased, having a whole house to herself for the first time in her life. The house was on Westminster Place, still in Shadyside. Gus had walked over to help with the placing of the furniture and the carrying out of boxes and the like. Megan didn’t have enough furniture to fill the whole house; that would take a while yet. Gus had finished his chores and plopped down tiredly on the sofa. It was times like these that he wished he were more of a muscleman.
Megan and Snooks had gone out for food, cheerily promising a feast when they got back. The shopping required the presence of both of them, Snooks to get her kind of food and Megan to buy hers. Gus had told them he’d eat anything.
The furor attending the revelation of Dillon Laboratories’ perfidious designs on Lipan was beginning to die down. The story had stayed in the news for a long time—Glickman’s public relations people had seen to that. Neither Gus’s nor Snooks’s names had appeared in any of the accounts of the story, but Megan’s part in it couldn’t be kept secret. Mind Control! the news media had screamed, delighted with this sensational aspect of the case. Megan was furious. She didn’t at all relish being cast in the role of victim. After all, she’d taken action, she’d refused to wring her hands helplessly and moan Why me? She had ended up the winner, not the men who’d victimized her.
Glickman Pharmaceuticals was an even bigger winner. People who’d never heard of Lipan before were suddenly made aware of its existence. And those who’d heard of it but hadn’t bought it began to think it must be hot stuff to cause so much fuss. Megan said sales had taken a most gratifying leap.
The police knew more than they were letting on. That Glickman lawyer, Payton, had had to tell his contact in the D.A.’s office how Megan and company had found out what Sperling was up to. Then Sergeant Church had had to be told about the tape, the man in charge of the case. Megan said she thought they were the only two officials who did know. But that was still two more than should have known about their slightly illegal adventure.
Megan and Snooks ought to be getting back by now. How long did it take to buy groceries?
Gus had Megan’s television tuned to the Pirates game; he was doing his homework. He and Polly were going to a game when the Pirates got back from their road trip, and Gus didn’t want to appear too ignorant.
He’d turned the sound off, or as near off as he could get it. The game’s announcers had gotten on his nerves. They were excited and kept interrupting each other and their voices got higher and higher and higher. The reason for all the excitement was that there seemed to be two no-hitters going in this game. Even with the sound turned all the way down, the noise of the crowd occasionally leaked through. But it was tolerable.
Gus found the game inexcusably boring. Even Snooks couldn’t claim something was happening in this one. He was vaguely relieved she wasn’t there to lecture him on the subtleties of a pitching duel. The only time Gus could tell if the pitcher had missed the strike zone was when the ball went sailing over the catcher’s head. His attention drifted to the crossword on his lap.
If he could only get that long one, the one with nineteen letters. Temple vessel. What kind of temple? What kind of vessel? Eventually he worked it out: The Good Ship Lollipop. Oh. A Shirley Temple vessel.
A faint cheer leaked from the television. Gus looked up to see a runner standing on first base, trying to look blasé. One of the pitchers had lost his no-hitter.
Megan and Snooks came bursting in, full of good cheer and burdened with bags of groceries. Gus made a move toward the television but he wasn’t quick enough: Snooks saw what he was watching.
“Still two no-hitters going?” she boomed at him.
“’Fraid not. There was a hit just now.”
“Who got it?”
Gus thought back. The runner standing on first base had been wearing a red hat. The Pirates wore gold hats. “The bad guys,” he said.
“Hell.” Snooks was disgusted. “Why have you got the sound off?” She turned it on, listened a moment, then turned it back down. “I see.”
“Gus,” Megan said, “would you help me with something? I have a new set of lawn chairs out in the car and I can’t carry them by myself. She wouldn’t even try. I hate to take you away from the game, but—”
“Don’t be an onager,” Gus said amiably and dropped his crossword on top of the television set. “Let’s go.”
Snooks opened her first beer of the day and lowered herself into Gus’s place on the sofa. Megan had gotten it into her head it would be nice to eat out in the back yard; thus the new lawn chairs. Snooks preferred bug-free meals herself, but she hadn’t objected.
It was September, a little late for alfresco dining; it would be their farewell to summer. Snooks had taken her working vacation in San Francisco and had come back to find that Lipan was now safely distributed over the international market. That stuff had better be good, all the trouble it caused.
The television showed a relief pitcher warming up. Snooks snorted. Guy gives up one hit and the manager activates the bullpen.
She looked at the crossword on top of the set and thought about the young man who was working it. About his future. So when he and Megan came back from setting up the lawn chairs, Snooks called out, “Gus, what are you planning to do?”
“About what?”
“About the rest of your life.”
He whooped. “In twenty-five words or less?”
“You must be making plans. Do you intend to go on teaching?”
“For a while.”
“I don’t even know what you teach,” Snooks said with sudden realization.
“Introductions.”
“What?”
“I teach introductions. Introduction to Poetry. Introduction to Drama. Introduction to Short Narrative Literature.”
Snooks winced; first-year stuff. “You’re wasting your time, you know.”
Gus shrugged. “It’s just a job, Snooks. It’s not a career.” Then he grinned. “Besides, I’m a lousy teacher.”
Megan laughed. “I told him he should open a detective agency and he made a face at me.”
“What about writing?” Snooks persisted. “Have you thought about doing any writing?”
“Maybe I will,” Gus smiled slowly. “When I have something to say.”
“Sid Ziegler’s offer’s still open,” Megan said. “He wants you, Gus.”
Gus shuddered at the thought of working for a man like Sid Ziegler. “What could I do at Glickman? I don’t know anything about pharmaceuticals.”
“I think Sid has some sort of troubleshooting job in mind. You know—whenever something irregular happens, he’d send you in to figure out what went wrong.”
Snooks gave him an elbow. “Solving puzzles, Gus.”
He looked at her in surprise; he hadn’t thought of it that way. Snooks went off to supervise Megan, still not quite trusting her notions about what made a good meal.
Gus stood lost in thought for a long time. Maybe he could do it. Maybe he should.
Maybe he would.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Barbara Paul is
the author of numerous short stories and novels in both the detective and science fiction genres. Born in Maysville, Kentucky, she went on to attend Bowling Green State University and the University of Pittsburgh, earning a PhD in theater history and criticism. She has been nominated for the Shamus Award for Best PI Short Story, and two of her novels, In-Laws and Outlaws and Kill Fee, have been adapted into television movies. After teaching at the University of Pittsburgh for a number of years, she retired to write full-time. Paul currently resides in Sacramento.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1981 by Barbara Paul
Cover design by Jason Gabbert
ISBN: 978-1-5040-3240-7
This edition published in 2016 by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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