“But, Mark, she disappeared months ago.”
“Right again. She may be dead, and then again—”
“How do you know she was involved with Rip Spensor?”
Mark exhaled smoke at the ceiling and scratched his ear thoughtfully. “I’ll let you figure that out.”
“Okay, I will.”
I pushed him out of the way, but he caught my arm.
“One other thing, Miss Sexiest-Private-Eye.”
“What’s that?”
“In Spensor’s wallet, we found a card stating his membership in some sort of health cult operated by a man named Thor Tunny. Do you have any information about this organization?”
“Maybe.”
“I want the address of Tunny’s headquarters.”
“The dues are too high for you, Lieutenant.”
He gripped my arm. “I’m serious, Honey.”
“San Berdoo Mountains, I don’t know the exact location.” I stepped around him. “Now, if you don’t mind I’ve got some entertaining to do.”
The big deputy’s jaw tightened and he let me go. “Okay,” he said. “Be smart. Only one of these days you’ll wind up in the same gutter as your father.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said. “I’ll take it up with my four-poster.”
The corridor outside Mark’s office was thick with shadows crawling along the ceiling and walls like diabolical monsters lying in wait for my exit. My heels clattered on the stairway, striking hollowly on the steel treads. Outside the building, the fog had degenerated into a moist film that chilled my face. My car was parked near the corner in a special lot for Sheriff’s vehicles. An officer on duty gave me the keys. I climbed behind the wheel, shuddering at the memory of my last contact with the convertible, and started the engine.
A block away from the Sheriff’s office, the haze lifted slightly and I was able to increase my speed. For an instant I thought I noticed a pair of headlights flicker in my rear view mirror as I turned onto Pacific Coast highway, but my mind was too tightly fixed on what Mark had been saying to check whether I was being followed. I couldn’t get over the fact Rip Spensor had been a member of Thor Tunny’s health cult. He’d never divulged such a connection to me. I didn’t know too much about Tunny’s cult, but what I knew was pretty sickening.
I called my office on the auto phone. Charley cut in abruptly.
“Yes, Springtime.”
“How’d you know it was me, Charley?”
“I just talked with Lieutenant Storm at Homicide. He said you’d left. You okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “Only one of those creatures I warned you about bit me.”
“So I understand. There was a call for you about a half-hour ago.”
“Who was it, Charley?”
“Pardon the expression, but that’s what bugs me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was long distance. That much I got. The party refused to give her name.”
“Her?”
“Yeah, it was a dame, Springtime. She had a nice voice. Real sexy, if you know what I mean.”
“How sexy, Charley?”
“Husky. Like she was going to eat me or something.”
“What’d she say?”
“She said she wanted to speak to you, natch. I said you were sort of incapacitated since I’d heard from Lieutenant Storm about the terantulers in your car.”
“What else?” I asked.
“That’s it, Springtime. She hung up. But I got the operator.”
“Good boy, Charley. Where was the call from?”
“Meadow Falls.”
“Where’s that?”
“The operator was intercepting from Long Beach. She said the call came from a trunk line located near San Berdoo. Does that help any?”
“It sure does. Thanks.”
“That’s okay, Springtime, only you’d better be more careful.”
“I’m trying, Charley. Now you’d better get some sleep.”
He grumbled in that way that meant he wished he didn’t weigh three hundred pounds plus and was twenty years younger.
“Hell, Honey, sleep’s what I don’t need. I’ll get plenty of that when I’m dead.”
Anaheim street rolled into view as I swung off the Long Beach Freeway.
“Charley, you’re a long way from dead.”
“Maybe I am, but you’re not.”
I laughed. “Mark Storm told me the same thing. You two ought to be insurance salesmen. You both make life sound so comfy and cozy.”
“I’m not joking, Honey. Where you heading?”
“None of your business.”
“My business is your business. Now level with me.”
As I passed a lumber company on the other side of the Anaheim bridge, a car pulled alongside me in the fog. Then it darted ahead, swerving dangerously in front of my convertible.
“Okay, I’ll level,” I said into the receiver. “Somebody wants to check my driver’s license and I’m pretty sure it isn’t a cop. I’m just beyond the river bridge on Anaheim.”
“Got you, Honey,” Charley said. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He clicked off.
I dropped the phone into its bracket and tried to speed up around the other car. It swerved into me, glancing off my front left fender, skidding across the street and back again.
I reached for my revolver, but discovered the pearl-handled .22 was gone from my holster. Mark’s deputies had probably confiscated it when they found me in the alley.
The other car zoomed forward, nosed hard in front of me and skidded to a stop. I had to brake quickly to avoid a collision.
Then a weird thing happened. For a moment I thought I was having hallucinations. A man climbed from the other vehicle and stood in my headlights. He was tall and deceptively thin, and despite the fog, I could see he was ruggedly handsome. He was stark staring naked.
He moved to my side window and knocked at the glass “Open up, Miss West, quickly. It’s a matter of life or death.”
“Are you crazy?” I blared. “You nearly ran me off the road. And you’re—”
“I know,” he returned. “I’m not wearing any clothes. Open up before somebody comes along.”
He wasn’t carrying a weapon and his voice did sound desperate, so I flicked the lock button on my door and swung it open. He climbed in swiftly, shoving me over with a bronzed, heavily-muscled hip.
I switched on my dash light and examined his face in its faint glow. He had blue eyes and a nicely tapered nose. His hair was thick and black and slanted wetly on his broad forehead.
“Thanks,” he said, breathing deeply.
“Thanks for what?” I said. “Road blocking and indecent exposure are two serious crimes in these parts. Don’t tell me you lost your clothes in a poker game.”
He grinned broadly. It was a nice grin, very wide and drawn loosely over straight white teeth. “I’m sorry about running you off the road. As far as clothes are concerned. I never wear them. It’s against my religion.”
“You—you’re a nudist?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m one of Tunny’s disciples. A Sun Soul.”
I ran my fingers across my lips in embarrassment. “You mean you never wear clothes?”
“Never,” he said abruptly. “Please, you’ve got to help us.”
“Us?”
“Mr. Tunny and myself. We’re in serious trouble.”
I couldn’t help glancing down at his powerfully built, muscular frame. “You’re telling me. You couldn’t be talking about a member of your group named Rip Spensor, could you?”
“Ex-member,” he said. “Rip was expelled from the organization months ago.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you that now.” His forehead ridged. “The only thing that’s important is that Rip’s dead.”
“How’d you know?”
“A late news bulletin over the radio.” He leaned toward me, one hand resting on the seat, the other brushing back a shock
of black hair. “My name’s Adam. Adam Jason. I’m Director of Inter-Relations and Sports at Meadow Falls.”
“Meadow Falls?” I said, remembering the phone call Charley had intercepted earlier.
“Back of Lake Arrowhead in the San Bernardino Mountains. We have several acres of land. Our own temple and living quarters. It’s quite new and modern.”
Adam Jason was a big man, like Mark Storm, and broad-shouldered. His startling blue eyes were deep-set in his sun-burnt face. Suddenly he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my mouth.
“Hey,” I said, drawing back. “What’s that for?”
“I’m a director,” he said. “In our cult a director’s kiss is like a blessing. It is not holy for a director to speak with a female who has not been blessed.”
A car flashed by on the street, its headlights winking in the mist.
“Well, you’d better count your blessings, mister,” I said, “because the police’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“But, Miss West,” he stammered. “We want to hire you.”
“For what, as a blessing in disguise?”
He put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m serious. Rip Spensor’s death may ruin Mr. Tunny’s organization.”
“Why?”
“I can’t explain now, but I’ve been authorized by Mr. Tunny to bring you back to Meadow Falls. He’ll go into detail. We’re willing to pay any reasonable price for your services.”
“Why me?” I demanded. “There must be fifty-odd private investigators in Southern California to choose from. How’d you pick my name? Certainly not out of your hat.”
“You were acquainted with Rip,” he said quickly.
“Where’d you get this information?”
“When Rip joined our organization he was asked to give some references. Your name was at the head of the list, along with your occupation.”
“So?”
“So Mr. Tunny picked you because of your obvious association with the deceased. He asked that you be returned to Meadow Falls.”
“What if I’m not interested?”
He straightened. “You’ve got to be!”
“Why?”
“I said before it’s a matter of life or death.”
I shrugged. “Rip Spensor’s already dead, Mr. Jason. Who else did you have in mind?”
His jaw tightened grimly. “You, Miss West.”
THREE
“Me?” I demanded. “Now look, Nature Boy, in less than five minutes, you’ve bent my fender, my ear, my morals, and now you’re trying to bend my life span. Don’t threaten me!”
“I’m not trying to threaten you,” he countered. “I’m trying to help. That’s why I followed you from the Sheriff’s office.”
“You didn’t happen to follow me into an alley a couple of hours ago, did you?” I glanced down at his feet, but it was too dark to see whether he was wearing shoes.
His face flushed. “I’m not in the habit of lurking in dark alleys, Miss West.”
“How’d you know it was dark?”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, but if it was only a few hours ago the alley must have been dark—and foggy.” He threw his head back and exhaled audibly. “Please, Miss West. Are you going to take the case, or aren’t you?”
“I’ve got to think about it,” I said. “But not here. We’d better go to my office.”
I took a car blanket from the rear seat and tossed it in his lap. “Here. Wrap yourself up until we get there. I’ve got some old clothes of my father’s that should fit you.”
He shook his head vigorously. “I never wear them, Miss West, it’s against my—”
“—religion. You told me.” I examined him carefully. “But, how are we going to get any work done with you parading around in nothing but a healthy suntan?”
He leaned toward me again. “Miss West—”
“Down, tiger. You’ll wear clothes or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else the deal’s off.”
He shrugged, wrapped the blanket around his thick shoulders and said, “I wish you belonged to our organization, Miss West. You’re a very attractive woman.”
“I’m not the organization type, Mr. Jason. Besides, when I take my clothes off it’s for one reason, and one reason only.”
His eyes lighted. “What’s that?”
“To take a shower.” My eyes shifted to the street. “Your car’s far enough off the road. We’ll leave it here temporarily.”
I got out on the passenger side and walked around. The fog was thinning now and street lights beyond the Anaheim bridge were beginning to show through. Beyond, in the river bed, crickets chattered rhythmically. The damage to my left fender was minor. The damage to my disposition wasn’t. Nothing added up. How did this nude cultist know I was at the Sheriff’s office? I climbed in behind the wheel and flicked the starter.
Before we reached my office, Mark Storm had me on the auto phone.
“What’s up?” the deputy demanded. “Charley says you’re in trouble again.”
“Not yet,” I said. “But I’ve got a passenger.”
“Not more tarantulas?”
“No,” I answered lightly, shifting my gaze at Adam Jason. “This one’s got two legs.”
“A man?” Mark said,
“Of that there is no doubt, Lieutenant. Now be a good boy and go to bed.”
“Is that where you’re off to, Miss Four Poster?”
“Lieutenant, you don’t quit, do you? This man’s a possible client.”
“For what?”
“For the Rip Spensor case. Now are you satisfied?”
“No!” Mark bellowed. “You stay away from the Spensor case. It’s hot.”
“Not as hot as my client. Bye-bye, black sheep.”
I hung up, turned off down Pine and parked in a lot behind my office building. Fortunately no one was on duty that time of night. I slipped Adam Jason behind a fence and got him as far as the alley before we ran smack into trouble. A patrol car turned in off Third just as we started across the alley toward the back door. A turret light swung on us like a spotlight on a couple of actors, splashing us silly with a circle of intensely brilliant light. We made the alley door, but before I could produce my key the car whirled in tight behind us.
“What’s going on?” the patrolman behind the wheel shouted.
His assistant came after us with a pistol cocked at Adam, shoes smacking hard on the asphalt. “Hey, what’s with the blanket?”
“He’s an Indian,” I said.
“There’s something a little too cute about both of you,” the man behind the wheel said. “You’re under arrest for suspicion of breaking and entering.”
“Now wait a minute,” I protested. “I’ve got an office in this building. And a key to this door.”
“Sure you have,” the officer with the gun said. “And my Aunt Fanny’s got a hollow left leg. Come on.”
“Look,” I said, producing the key. “I’ll prove it.”
I inserted the key in the lock and twisted it open quickly. Then before either policeman could make a move, I shoved Adam inside, handing him my purse.
“Upstairs,” I said. “Room 304. The trunk is in the corner.”
Adam got the message without any trouble. He stepped inside and slammed the door locked. I dropped the building key into my bra before the man with the gun could reach me or the door.
“What the hell have you done, lady?” he demanded, jerking at the handle.
“My Indian chief has a pipe of peace he’s in a hurry to smoke,” I said glibly. “Now why don’t you gentlemen break out your own corn cobs and leave us alone.”
The officer stepped out of the squad car angrily. “Gimme that key! That guy didn’t have any clothes on!”
“Prove it,” I said.
“I’ll prove both of you into a nice tight little cell,” he snarled, pushing his partner out of the way. He advanced on me, hands lifted. “Gimme that key!”
> “You touch me,” I said, “and you’ll wind up with a pogo stick patrolling the Pike.”
He stopped, face reddening. “What’s your name?”
“Honey West.”
He pushed his flashlight in my face, then groaned. “I shoulda known. Get back in the car, Pete.” He flicked his eyes on me witheringly. “Okay, you win this time, Miss West. Only remember this. Next time, don’t act so cute with me or, pogo stick or not, I just might pinch you for the hell of it. Get me?”
I nodded. “I’ll take the warning from whence it comes.”
They climbed back into the squad car, the one man still grumbling and drove off. I waited a few seconds until they were out of sight in the fog and produced the key again. My third floor office door was partially open when I approached in the dark corridor. There was no light, except for a small glow at the end of the hall indicating a fire escape.
“Adam,” I called. “Are you there?”
“Yes, Miss West.”
“‘The police have gone. I hope you’ve got clothes on.”
“I do.”
I moved inside the office and switched on a desk lamp, then burst into a roar of laughter. He was standing near the door, one of my sweaters draped around his shoulders, a partially zipped skirt hanging around his bronzed hips.
He cast a chagrined look at his outfit and said, “I couldn’t find the trunk.”
“Adam, you take the proverbial cake,” I said, shaking my head. “What if the police had come up here?”
“I don’t know.” His thick eyebrows lifted perplexedly. “I guess I’d have introduced myself as a female impersonator.”
“With your build?”
He shrugged, nearly losing my skirt.
I crossed to my father’s old trunk, pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt and handed them to him.
“There’s a screen behind you,” I said. “Try these for size. They’re apt to be a better fit.”
He went behind the screen and tossed my sweater over the top. “You’ve sure got a narrow waist for such a big girl.”
“Five-feet-five, isn’t so big,” I said. “That’s in my stocking feet.”
“I didn’t mean length, I meant breadth!”
“I weigh a hundred and twenty pounds, Mr. Jason. Thirty-eight, twenty-two, thirty-six. Something wrong with that?”
Honey West: A Kiss for a Killer Page 2