The adhesive holding my bandages itched and my ribs ached. I made only coffee this morning, nothing solid. I had been too inactive and my appetite was suffering.
It bothered me, the way my thoughts kept returning to Mona Greene every time they left the murders. She was becoming frighteningly important to me; my freedom was being threatened.
And any man, she had said, would bore her after three months. I must try to think of her as a less permanent friend.
I turned the radio on to the local news after breakfast and learned that David Hawley hadn’t left much money but he had carried an unusual amount of insurance for a man of his station. He had carried over a hundred thousand dollars worth, all term.
His sister, Mrs. Daniel Devlin, was the sole beneficiary.
I was doing the dishes when Don Malcolm came with his list of license numbers. He said, “I parked pretty far away from here. Lenny’s out prowling and he knows my car.
“Prowling? Around here?”
“Maybe not around here this second, but he could be, any time. This isn’t a very big town, you know.”
“I’ve noticed that. As a matter of fact, Lenny was parked about a hundred yards up the road last night.”
Don stared at me.
“I’m sure it was a coincidence,” I said. “He had a girl with him. It sounded like he was trying to — kiss her or something.”
Don went over to the sink. He drank almost three glasses of water, watching the road through the window over the sink.
I said, “This will be all I’ll need from you, Don. I certainly don’t want to give Lenny any reason to hate you.”
He looked at me with relief. “Good. I don’t worry about myself so much. But my kid brother and little sister — ” He stood where he could watch the road through the living room window. “How do you know he had a girl with him? Could you see them from in here?”
“No. I happened to have been outside.” He stared at me, a question in his eyes.
“The less you know, the better,” I said. “Tell me, have you any idea why Lenny’s Uncle David carried so much insurance?”
He nodded. “Lenny told me about it. His uncle was trying to promote a real estate development north of the Heights, there in the hills, and he got a good loan on it. But the bank insisted he carry the insurance for the duration of the loan.”
“So he bought the cheapest — term insurance?”
“I suppose. I don’t know much about insurance.” He took a breath. “Joe, don’t you really need me any more? Or are you just letting me off the hook because of Lenny?”
“Why? What difference does it make?”
“Because if you need me, I’m not going to chicken out.”
“I don’t need you,” I said. “I shouldn’t tell you why, but I’m going to — Chief Slauson is working with me now. That isn’t to be told to anyone in town. Understand?”
He nodded. “The chief is quite a man, isn’t he?”
“A very good man. He’s not quite as bright as he thinks he is but nobody ever is.” He grinned. “Was he too bright for you, Joe? He found you, didn’t he?”
“More or less. Now remember, not a word about me to anyone, and not a word about the chief. It’s very important, Don.”
He promised me he wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone. He wished me luck and went out, I watched him walk down the road and I watched the road for minutes after he was out of sight.
At ten o’clock, Mona phoned. She asked, “What’s this new theory the police are investigating? Do you think it’s anything more substantial than newspaper bilge?”
“I don’t know. How did you sleep, darling?”
“I slept well, sweetie! Why the dulcet tones? They don’t go with your character.”
“You know me better than that. Did you — ah — dream of your Neapolitan last night?”
“I — ah — did not. Heavens, Puma, you can’t be jealous. Mister, you’re not going grave on me, are you?”
“It must be a fever, because of the ribs,” I explained. “I keep thinking of you.”
“I’ll bet. And I’ll bet I know how you keep thinking of me. Now, let’s get back into character, cynic. Love is not for you, not true and permanent love.”
“Maybe. I mean — how many girls are there like you in the world. I mean — ”
“You take a cold shower,” she said. “I’ll phone again later.” She hung up.
Her money, that’s what it was. I attracted her, all right; she had admitted that a number of times. But now she thought I wanted to marry her money. We could talk that out; we could arrange a separate property agreement.
Where was I heading? What was happening to me? I stood there, staring at the dead phone. I was standing there when I heard the crash of glass and a rock came hurtling through the big window at the far end of the room.
The hills were still quiet, the city below still peaceful, the sun still hot and clear. Nothing moved in the high grass of the slope I could see from where I stood.
The rock was only that, a rock from the field below. No note. A hanging bit of glass dangled, swung and finally fell to the floor with a clink. I got my .38 and shoved it into the waistband of my trousers. I stayed out of the range of the windows as I moved over to the door on the far side of the house from where the rock had been thrown.
It opened onto a small patio behind the garage. From here, I intended to skirt the garage and go down the right side of the road, where the view of the road from the field would be obscured by the overhang of the cut on that side.
I had no intention of getting too close to my intruder. My ribs made me too vulnerable to risk a hand-to-hand encounter, even with one of the punks.
Perspiration ran down my neck and my mouth was drier than it should have been. What did I have to fear from a rock-thrower? This much — the odds were he was either Lenny or Juan and kids are hard to figure, particularly when emotionally disturbed, as Lenny was now. A gun doesn’t always impress them as it does a more reasonable adult.
I kept to the protection of the overhanging cut and moved down the road toward the place where the cut ended and I would have a view of the field. And then, as I came to the crest of the hill in the middle of the cut, I saw the road below leading into town and I saw the car.
It was the customized Merc, and it was parked on the other side of the road from me, facing this way. It was about two blocks away and in full view of anyone on this side of the hill.
I couldn’t get to it by way of the road without being seen. I hesitated, and then moved to the other side and into the high grass along that slope.
If I could keep low enough, there was a possibility I could remain hidden all the way to the car. It was worth a try; he would have to come back to the car eventually.
I crouched and moved through the grass like a marauding Indian, feeling no sillier than any grown man would feel creeping up on a hot-rodder with a .38.
To my left, a rabbit scurried in fright and I stopped, my heart pounding, my perspiration increasing. When a man is frightened by rabbits and hot-rodders, he is getting old. I crouched, breathing deeply.
The air was hot and still, the grass dry and dusty. I moved on, unable to see the car now, hoping I would get to it before Lenny returned.
I was in luck. When I came even with the live oak tree next to which it was parked, I rose enough to permit me a quick look and it was still there, and deserted. I crouched again and sought the shelter of the tree.
From here I could see all of the field below the cabin and nobody was visible over there. I couldn’t see my neighbors house.
I waited, hot and nervous. From behind me, I heard the sound of an engine and I turned to see a panel truck coming up the road from town. It went past without slowing. L. Shirvanian and Sons, Oriental Rugs. In how many towns were there still oriental rug dealers? Who bought oriental rugs today? Just the old money, living in another age.
And now, on the far side of the road, the grass stirred. I took my gun
from my waistband and waited.
And now he stood erectly and started walking boldly toward his car and I still waited behind what coverage the tree afforded. It was Lenny Devlin, as I’d suspected.
I heard his footsteps on the gravel of the road and counted to three before stepping out from behind the tree.
He was almost across the road when he saw me. He froze, his glance going from the gun to my face.
“Keep coming,” I said. “Turn and run and I’ll shoot you in the back. Keep coming.”
His voice was low. “You wouldn’t shoot me. You’d go to the gas chamber if you shot me.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I was a legal tenant in that house you just threw the rock at. And I wouldn’t shoot to kill. I’d shoot for your knee. That’s where it hurts the most, Lenny.”
“I didn’t throw no rock,” he said.
“Keep coming. Move!” He hesitated and then started slowly toward his car. I said, “Face the car and put your hands on the top of it. Keep your back to me, monkey.” He hesitated once more and then did what I’d asked. I took the keys to his car from one pocket and a narrow switch-blade knife from another. I said, “Now go to the other side of the road and start walking up toward the cabin. Maybe there’s still some sanity left in you and I can get to it.”
“With your lies? Huh!” I said, “You’ve been on the wrong road so long, you wouldn’t recognize the truth if it bit you. Start walking, punk.” I prodded his spine with the .38.
He walked slowly and I could guess he was hoping a car would come along. He couldn’t be sure what my intentions were regarding him and he probably thought an outsider would be an ally in the present situation.
I said, to his back, “You’ve been conned good by somebody. Whatever gave you the idea I was involved in Elmer Duggan’s death?”
“You worked for that Destry dame, didn’t you? Elmer had her number.”
“Did he? Why didn’t he take it to the police?”
“In this town? You think the cops would bother anybody from Halcyon Heights in this town?”
“She doesn’t belong there,” I said. “That’s Dennis Greene’s house she’s living in. The department would be very much concerned if they thought he had been murdered.”
“Huh!” he said again.
“You’re not open to reason, Lenny. The Chief of Police knows where I am. I’m not hiding from him.” He said nothing. I said, “I worked for Miss Destry only until she thought I, too, might be getting wise to her. And then she fired me.”
“Yuh? Why are you in town, then? Who’s paying you?”
“Mrs. Dennis Greene,” I said. “His widow. She’s staying at the Montevista Hotel.” A silence. Then, “You’re lying.” We were at the cabin now. I said, “Go in. You can phone her at the hotel. She’ll bear me out.”
We went in. He looked around. He looked at the rock on the floor, the broken window and back at me.
“You’re pretty good with a rock, aren’t you?” I said.
“Who paid you to break the window in Greene’s house?”
“Nobody,” he said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He walked over to the rear window and looked down on my neighbor.
I said, “Miss Destry was there last night. She stayed for a long time. That was dangerous of her, wasn’t it?”
His head jerked back and he stared at me. “That’s a lie. You’re lying again.” He looked shocked.
“Sure. Every time you hear something you don’t want to hear, it’s a lie. Lenny, for heaven’s sake, start thinking. You’ve got a better future now. Your mother just came into a hundred thousand dollars and now would be a stupid time for you to go to jail.”
“I’m not going to any jail,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Why not? Don’t your folks worry about you?” His face stiffened and he glared at me. My phone rang. I held the gun on Lenny while I answered it. It was Chief Slauson. He said, “Sergeant Dallas is on the way up there with some information. You look more intelligent every hour, Joe.”
“I’m glad you’re finally on my side,” I said. “I have a boy here the sergeant can take back with him.”
A boy?”
“Lenny Devlin. He threw a rock through my window and I took a knife off of him. I’m not sure whether I’m going to make a formal complaint, but I think you’d better hold him for a while.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Dallas should be there any minute.”
When I hung up, Lenny said, “You can’t prove I threw any rock. You can’t prove anything.”
I nodded. “That’s pretty close to the truth. Even though I know who killed Elmer and probably your uncle, I can’t prove it.” I looked at him steadily. “Without your help.”
“You’re lying,” he said, and then stared, his mouth open.
“Will you get off that kick?” I said impatiently. “Will you, for the first time in your life, start thinking?”
“You’re crazy,” he said hoarsely. “If I thought you were right, I’d — ” He broke off, breathing heavily.
“You’d do something violent,” I finished for him, “in your stupid way. Is violence your only answer to every problem, Lenny?”
“Look who’s talking,” he said.
“Touché,” I said. “Okay, we’ll wait for Sergeant Dallas. Do you want to phone Mrs. Greene at the Montevista Hotel?”
He said nothing, staring at me. For the first time, I thought I saw doubt on his young face.
I said quietly, “Lenny, I am licensed by the Attorney General of the State of California. Do you think he’s a crook, too?”
He stared and stared. Finally, he said, “I want a glass of water.”
I waved toward the sink. “Help yourself.” He was on his second glass when Dallas came. Dallas looked at him doubtfully and then at me.
“The chief just phoned,” I said. “He wants you to take Lenny back with you. The kid threw a rock through my window over there.”
Dallas looked at the window and shook his head. I handed him the keys and the knife. I said, “I took these off of him. You probably passed his car, coming up.”
Dallas nodded and took a deep breath. “Jesus! Where are they heading, Puma? These punks, I mean?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Lenny can still be saved, once he starts to think.
“I hate crooks,” he said. “I hate ‘em at all ages.” Lenny was silent, a new role for him. I could hope that indicated he was beginning to think.
Dallas said, “Here’s the stuff the chief sent up. Your theory keeps getting better and better. Call him when you’ve read it.”
“I will. Did you get to the cleaners in time?”
“Not quite. We got there before the spotter went to work, though. Doc Christie is running a guaiacum and some others, I guess.”
“And the arsenic?”
“We’re still checking.” He looked at Lenny. “Let’s go, boy.”
Lenny said stiffly, “I want to make a phone call, first.”
“To Mrs. Greene?” I asked him. He shook his head.
“Your folks?” Dallas asked.
Lenny shook his head again. “I want to phone my lawyer.”
Dallas stared. “No kidding! And who’s your lawyer?”
“Byron Smith,” he answered, “of Winters, Delamater, Hartford and Smith.”
Dallas stared at me. “It’s a small world, isn’t it? Brother!”
“It’s worse than that,” I answered. “It’s a small town.”
Chapter Fifteen
I ATE LUNCH and thought of my morning. The case was building; the noose was tightening. And all of it revolved around the lady who had sent for me, who had brought me to this town. The mid-day news report on the radio was concerned with other things. They were keeping a tight lid on this case down at Headquarters. It could crack at any time.
And how about the lady? Was she cracking? Was that poise of hers showing any signs of disintegration? I thought of her in the yellow linen dres
s in which I had first glimpsed her. I thought of her in that black lastex swim suit and saw again the long legs, the high breasts, the beautiful shoulders.
Would Destry ever ride again — in some other swain’s sport car, on some other millionaire’s gaited horse, high and wide and proud and available?
I had to know. Maybe a little pressure now would crack it all wide open and the boys at Headquarters would have more luck with the pros in the case. Carol Destry might have professional qualifications in some lines, but I was sure murder wasn’t one of them.
I looked down at my neighbor’s house and saw the car in the parking area. I climbed into the Plymouth and drove over to Halcyon Heights.
She came to the door herself in a terry-cloth robe that ended a few inches above the knees. It was the kind of robe designed to be worn over a wet swim suit, but I had the damnedest feeling it was currently being worn over no more than the tanned, firm body of Miss Carol Destry.
“You — ” she said. I smiled. “Mrs. Trapp around?” Her chin lifted. “No. She’s deserted me. Everybody’s deserted me.”
“Even Dave Hawley,” I said. “He did it the hard way, didn’t he?”
The lifted chin quivered. “Why are you here? Did you come here to taunt me? I’m defenseless now. Do you revel in that?” I said softly, “Believe me, I don’t. I thought it might be the right time for you to turn completely honest — and save what you can.”
She stared at me, doubt and a small hope showing in her eyes. Some moisture showed there, then, and she said quietly, “Come in.”
The house was dim, all the drapes drawn against the mid-day sun. There was a hint of her perfume in the still, warm air and a sense of emotional imminence in the house.
I said, “I think I’ve discovered who threw the rock through your window. He threw one through mine this morning.
“Sit down,” she said. “Beer? Something else?” As she turned, the terry-cloth robe swirled and her firm thigh was momentarily visible.
She didn’t need a gun or a knife or arsenic or a screwdriver. She had herself.
I said, “Oh, maybe a bourbon and water? Because this could be the last time we would meet as friends.”
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