The Wayward Widow

by William Campbell Gault

  She went over to a liquor cabinet. Her back was to me and even the backs of her knees looked good. She said, “It wouldn’t have to be. That Mona Green has you in a swizzle at the moment.” She turned, my drink in her hand and faced me candidly. “About her, I would just like to make one observation — Dennis Greene knew her in her vintage years. She was a virgin when they married and he was a man who knew women.” She came over to hand me my drink. “And he left her — for me.”

  Pressure mounted in me. I managed to say, “That isn’t how I heard it.” My voice shook.

  She sat down next to me on the long davenport and said, “That’s exactly the way it was. Have you ever thought of trying out for the major leagues, Joe Puma?”

  I took a long swallow and kept my eyes to the front. “I came here to talk about a murder.”

  Her poise was back and her voice was mocking. “Are you sure that’s what you came for? Examine yourself, Puma.” She stretched one slim leg out and studied the gilded toe-nails. “We’re not children, Joe.”

  She was right about that. I had passed puberty. I though of Mona and it steadied me. Tonight, I would be with Mona. Carol could low-rate her, but I had better information. Tonight, I would be with Mona, and I must save myself for her. I would need my all.

  “I need someone,” Carol went on. “I need someone to protect me. David tried. He died trying. I can’t fight evil, Puma, not professional evil.”

  “Tell me about it,” I suggested. “Tell me what you think your out is.”

  Her voice was a whisper. “Not until I know you’re on my side.”

  I thought of Mona. I hung onto my remembrance of her like a shipwrecked sailor hangs onto a life preserver. I said, “I’m always on the side of the law, Carol, that’s always where I wind up.”

  The chuckle again. She leaned forward to take a cigarette from the coffee table and I saw that her proud breasts were coral-tipped. The room began to revolve slowly. Mona, I thought, Mona, Mona, Mona… .

  My voice seemed to be coming from the other side of the room. “I’ve got a girl. Damn it, I’ve got a girl!”

  “You’ve got a reject,” she said. “More whisky?” She leaned toward me, looking at my empty glass. She looked up. “You guessed right before, Puma. I’m not poor. Together, we’ll never be poor. We’re too bright for that, aren’t we?” Her perfume came in waves now and I seemed to be drowning in her eyes. Mona, I thought, Mona, Mona, Mona… . I must have voiced what I was thinking, because Carol said, “She’ll never stay with you. She never stayed with anyone. You’ll have no hold on her. You know it. You know where your best future lies. Why fight it?” Her voice was urgent. “Damn it, Joe, I need you!”

  “To protect yourself against a killer?” I asked hoarsely. “And after that — why would you need me?” I looked at her fully.

  The robe was off her shoulders and awry in front. She was wearing no swim suit, just as I had imagined. She was ready and I was Latin and — the thought of Mona was all that kept me on the right side of the law.

  I said firmly, “I would hate like hell to think of myself as a mere substitute for Dave Hawley. I’m sure you’re willing to rent what you have, but not on a long-term lease.” I stood up. “Kid, you had little Joe in this house all alone that first night. Why didn’t you need me then?” Her face stiffened and her eyes searched mine. “Mrs. Trapp was here. Damn you, what’s your angle? Why are you here?”

  I said gently, “I was hoping you’d turn honest and give me a murderer. I was hoping you would take whatever lumps the law had in store for you. Then, if you’re still young when you get out of jail, then we can plan our future. I could watch your money while you’re away.”

  She sat there rigidly, her face stone. And then her mouth opened and the most horrible string of obscenities flowed out and her eyes burned in that rigid, masked face.

  And I stumbled out, the spell broken, thinking of Mona and tonight, building it in my mind as an antidote, the only possible kind of antidote for the poison I had just refused.

  I don’t even remember driving back to the cabin. I remember her obscenities and I remember the shower I took as soon as I got to the cabin, but to this day, I don’t remember driving home.

  Later, Doctor West came to check me over and I learned that he had gone to Headquarters to volunteer the information that he might have made a mistake in diagnosing the death of Dennis Greene.

  Doctor West left and I took my nap. I dreamed of Carol Destry and wakened, sweating. It was possible I had a little fever. If I was in love with Mona, why should I dream of Carol?

  I fell asleep again and dreamed of Mona. It was late afternoon when I wakened and a slight ocean breeze was bulging the drape over the broken window. I washed my face and mixed a drink and sat by the rear window, looking down at my neighbor.

  The car was gone. I wearied of looking toward the rear so I mixed another drink and sat where I could stare out the front window at the white town. I was beginning to like this town. I could see why the locals resented the immigrants from the south, bringing industry and traffic and smog with them.

  At six o’clock, I phoned Mona and asked, “Aren’t you going to bring me my dinner tonight?”

  “Joe — did you expect me to? I’m sorry. I’m having dinner with some friends in Lolita. Did I promise to bring your dinner?”

  “No.”

  “How are you feeling? Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m feeling lonely.”

  “Now, Joe, let’s not get sentimental. A lark is a lark, and we mustn’t give it too much meaning.”

  “It’s not your money,” I explained. “Honest. It’s you.”

  “I’ll send a doctor over to take your temperature, one we can trust.”

  “I’ve had a doctor. My temperature is normal. Why fight it, Mona? Let’s face it.”

  “Be a good boy,” she said. “Don’t get all wrought up. I’ll phone you tomorrow.” She hung up.

  Frightened, that’s the way she’d sounded. And who could blame her — all the men who must have been after her money? How could she know I’d love her as much if she didn’t have a dime? It would take time to convince her of that. I would need patience.

  I made my own dinner. I re-read the reports that Sergeant Dallas had brought and saw the pattern of money and lust that had led to murder.

  Maybe, between them, Doc West and Lennie Devlin could fashion a case that would look like murder even to a jury. And maybe not. Perhaps Carol Destry, in trying to get off the hook, would reveal enough to make the case solid. And again perhaps not. Miss Destry was a cool one and she knew who her allies were and how far she could trust them. She had never been completely accepted by this town.

  Patricia Duggan, too, she should know some things that might help, once the finger was pointed and the pattern revealed. It would put a new focus on the people she knew and give new meaning to the lies they had undoubtedly told her.

  It was getting dark outside and I was finishing up the dishes when Chief Slauson phoned. He said, “Be careful, Joe. We’ve almost got a case, now, but it looks like our bird might have flown the coop.”

  “Dandy,” I said sarcastically. “And I’m the pigeon?”

  “Just be careful. Things are getting hotter every second.”

  “Too hot for me to expect a little police protection?” He chuckled. “A big brute like you? You’re not serious.”

  “I’m weak and sick. I just got out of the hospital.”

  “Relax. I’m simply being extra careful. The chances are your presence in town is still a fairly well-kept secret. Lenny hasn’t been in contact with anyone. He’s staying right here for a while. His folks agreed to it.”

  “Okay, okay. Thanks for calling, Chief.” It was dark now. The night breeze was slight but steady, bulging the drape again over the broken window. The lights of the town seemed very far away.

  On the road in front, I heard the engine of a car. It slowed, almost stopped, and then went on. I put my .38 into the
waistband of my trousers again and put on my car coat. A jacket would be too short to hide the gun.

  Lenny might be incommunicado now but he hadn’t been before throwing that rock. And what he knew, his supposed friend might know, and his friend would carry something more lethal than a rock.

  A plane droned overhead and the kitchen faucet went drip, drip, drip, drip. The sound of the plane pulsated, growing and dimming, and perspiration broke out on the backs of my knees.

  I don’t like the dark. I never did. I like sunlight and a clear view in all directions. I am leary of people who like the dark, people who use it. I will qualify that; I like the dark only when I’m horizontal.

  The drape bulged. My fault. I should have had a glazier up here this afternoon. Of course, the way labor is today, the bastard would have stalled me for a couple of days, anyway, so it really wasn’t my fault that the window was still open to the night air. Damn that glazier!

  Outside, I thought I heard the scrape of a foot, and I stiffened, motionless and tense. No further sound came and I sat at a small dining table and dealt out a hand of solitaire, a stiff jolt of bourbon over ice within reach.

  I was playing a red jack on a black queen when I heard the footsteps outside again. I sat where I was. My door chime sounded, and I called, “Who’s there?”

  “The law, Puma. Open up.”

  “The door’s unlocked,” I called. “Come in.” He came in. It was Sergeant Purvis. I said, “You’re not the law, not at the moment.”

  “Yes, I am. I was reinstated this afternoon.”

  “Oh? The bottle’s on the drainboard next to the sink, Sergeant. Pour yourself a jolt and sit down.” I found a black ten for the red jack. My hand trembled as I played it.

  He poured half a tumbler of whisky and dropped two ice cubes into it. He came over to sit opposite me at the small dining table.

  He said, “According to the paper, you were supposed to be back in Los Angeles.”

  “A paper that size can’t know everything,” I told him, “What’s on your mind, Sergeant?”

  “You,” he said. I stopped playing and looked up. “How did you find me?”

  “I saw you up here. I live right below you, in that house you can see from the back yard.”

  “Oh? I didn’t know that.”

  “Yes you did. And I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”

  “I’m sitting here playing solitaire. I’m sitting here and wondering what I’m going to do with this sound theory I’ve come up with.”

  “Let’s have the theory,” he said calmly. “Maybe I can help. I’m not quite as inefficient as you like to think I am, Puma.”

  I sipped a little booze and turned over an ace to lay out. I said, “It all revolves around Miss Carol Destry. The girl had been doing pretty well, robbing the household accounts and milking her charge accounts, but she went too far when Greene began to get sicker and less perceptive. And he finally got suspicious.”

  “You know this to be true?”

  “I’m guessing. I suppose some digging would document it. So he phoned an officer he personally admired down at Headquarters and the officer came out and Greene told him of his suspicions.”

  “What officer was sent out?”

  “You tell me, Sergeant.” He glared, his face reddening.

  “Mr. Greene,” I went on, “may also have told Elmer Duggan of his suspicions, though that will be hard to check, won’t it? Anyway, Elmer had always been suspicious of Carol Destry. He knew the town and he probably got a lot of the local merchant’s scuttle-butt.”

  Purvis sipped his drink. “You can play that black five.”

  I played it. I said, “This officer was attracted to Miss Destry, and who can blame him? She knows how to use her body to the best advantage.” I looked at him steadily. “Right?”

  “Watch your tongue,” he said. “You’re suspicious of me, aren’t you?”

  “A little. The first time we met, you were wearing that beautiful blue flannel suit and that lovely pale blue shirt and that tricky tie. I haven’t seen any of those clothes since.”

  His voice was low. “So?”

  “So, I realized those weren’t your working clothes. You were off duty that night you came up there, weren’t you? You were seeing Miss Destry socially, or hoping to.”

  “You’re crazy,” he said.

  “Maybe. You phoned her that afternoon and she told you to stay away, people would get suspicious. A police sergeant is a little out of his element in Halcyon Heights, isn’t he?”

  “I came to see about that rock she’d complained about.”

  “I don’t think so. I think you had that rock thrown through the window so you would have an excuse to be seen around there. You told me that you had some information about it, but you never offered it to Headquarters, I’ll bet.”

  “You’re out in left field,” he said. “We still haven’t finished with Dennis Greene’s suspicions.”

  “It’s rather macabre,” I said. “Greene suspicious and Miss Destry afraid she would lose her promised slice of the estate and you now under her control. Did you buy the arsenic, or did she?”

  He stared. “Arsenic? Who can prove that?”

  “Any competent medical man. That would eliminate Doctor West. And who conned that poor quack, you or Miss Destry?”

  He said nothing. I got out the two, three and four of clubs and looked up at him. He was staring at me in a mixture of wonder and hate.

  I sipped my drink and said, “Motive, means and opportunity, Sergeant. You were in the neighborhood the night Elmer died, that’s the opportunity. You weren’t armed, being off duty and a bad cop, but you found a screwdriver in his glove compartment and went up the path and killed him with that — the means. The motive was your knowing that Elmer was suspicious of Mrs. Greene and was watching her again that night. It was a good time to kill him, with me in the house — an outsider — and Miss Destry out somewhere with Hawley, perhaps some place where they couldn’t be checked, maybe necking?”

  He drank. His hand trembled.

  “Elmer would have got to Doctor West eventaully,” I said, “and noticed you sniffing around Miss Destry constantly and put two and two together.”

  “You’re trying to frame me,” he said. “Because I was always wise to you and because I pulled you in the other night.”

  “If I was trying to get you, Sergeant, would I be here, playing solitaire? I’d be down at Headquarters right now.”

  He looked at me doubtfully, trying to read my mind. “Is there more, Puma?”

  “Yes, and it makes me want to run down to Headquarters. You sent those young punks after me, didn’t you? You worked through Lenny. And when Lenny told you about my — romantic interest, you talked Lieutenant Ortega into going along, because you knew about his rigid moral standards and you wanted to get him off my bandwagon. And then, after you killed Hawley, you thought of the perfect way to get rid of me. You had been told by Lenny about my fight with Hawley that afternoon, and that was enough excuse to pick me up. With Schultz to trigger me into violent action, you planned to kill me in that room, kill me right at Headquarters acting as an officer of the law.”

  “You’re so far off base, Puma,” he said quietly, “you make me laugh.”

  I played a seven on an eight. “You’re not laughing.”

  “Use your head,” he said. “Why would Miss Destry send to Los Angeles for a private operative?’’

  “Because you began to scare her. Maybe you wanted to move in there more than she wanted you to. She couldn’t be protected from you by the law, nor probably by a local private man. So she sent for a man outside your sphere of influence.”

  “Mouth,” he said. “Mouth, mouth, mouth, mouth — that’s all you are.”

  “You could be right, Sergeant. I wouldn’t argue with you. You convinced me of the danger of that in that room at Headquarters.” I got out a new king to head a column with.

  “Stop playing that damned silly game,” he s
aid hoarsely, “and look at me like a man.”

  I looked at him like a man.

  “Why was Hawley killed?” he asked.

  “Because you were jealous of him. Miss Destry seemed to show a preference for him and hoped to use him to protect herself against you. Or maybe Hawley realized you had killed Duggan and threatened to tell the police unless you kept away from Miss Destry.”

  “You must be drunk. You’re not talking like a sober man, Puma.”

  “I’m sober. After I run down to Headquarters, I might look more solid. Because they can check that beautiful flannel suit of yours and the shirt you wore that night and the tie. Elmer bled badly. And Mrs. Green can order her husband’s body exhumed and that will give the local law a reason to go into all the deaths from a different angle.”

  He finished his drink. “I guess you know I never liked you and never trusted you.”

  I went back to the solitaire. “You’ve hinted at it, from time to time.”

  “Look at me, damn it!” I looked up once more. I looked at his empty glass and the hand that was near it, the shaking hand. I looked into his eyes and shivered.

  I said, “You’ve been drinking before you got here.”

  “So what?” I shrugged. I looked at the cards and back at him. “You’re not here officially, are you? Did you come as an emissary of Miss Destry?”

  “Maybe I did, originally. She’s innocent of anything wrong, but she certainly doesn’t want even a fraudulent investigation started while she’s trying to get her rightful share of the estate.”

  I smiled. “Come on, Sergeant, put your cards on the table alongside mine.”

  “I don’t trust you, Puma. I came here prepared to trust you, but I know your kind too well.”

  “Then you are here officially,” I said. “Phone the chief and tell him you’ve found me.” I took my hands from the table and put them in my lap.

  “I don’t have to phone the chief,” he said. “I’m taking you in. Come on, my car’s right outside.”

  “Who’s in it?” I asked. “Lenny? Who’s going to help you? You wouldn’t want to risk bringing a dangerous man like me in all alone, would you?”