He attached the briefcase to a clip on his belt, sat down on the window, and grasping the rope, began to pull himself up. He didn’t use his legs, Morey saw, but moved up the rope as easily as a flyer in the circus. Morey didn’t go on watching. He threw his clothes into a bag and left without stopping to unwire his former associates.
Dani had hardly begun her paperwork when the door opened and Ben Savage walked in.
She glanced at him, startled, and asked, “Well, have you talked to Hackman about the job?”
Though she expected him to say no, he nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. It was a check for five thousand dollars made out to the Ross agency and signed by Oliver Hackman. She looked at it, then asked with surprise, “He paid in advance?”
“No.” Savage shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t a very hard job. I took care of it yesterday.”
Dani looked at the check, then back at him. Finally she said, “Well, Benjamin Davis Savage, it looks as if you’re our new investigator. Welcome to the Ross agency.” She smiled and put out her hand. Ben took it and nodded.
“Let’s have coffee, and you can tell me about it,” she offered.
“Not much to tell, Miss Ross. Guy stole something, and I persuaded him to give it back. Case closed.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she demanded, “How did you ‘persuade’ him?”
He looked at her innocently. “I said, ‘Pretty please with sugar on it.’”
Dani was happy with the check and strangely pleased that he’d made a place for himself, but she saw some danger in Ben’s attitude. “Look, Savage, you’ve done well—but keep in mind that this is my agency. When I ask for a full report, you’ll give it to me. I know you don’t like women—Dom Costello told me that. I’m not all that crazy about you, for that matter.”
Savage answered evenly, “It sounds like the beginning of a beautiful relationship.” He turned around and said, “I’ll write up the report. You probably won’t like it.”
He left the room, and she sat down, angrily, noting that her breathing was a little rapid. He can stay—as long as he delivers the goods, she thought, drumming her fingers on the table. Then she looked at the check and muttered, “I don’t care what the blasted report says—as long as he gets the job done, we can survive!”
For some reason Dani rose and walked to the mirror over the lavatory. As she stared at her face a thought came to her: I wonder why he doesn’t like women?
3
A New Client
* * *
Blast!” Dani slammed down the phone with a look of indignation, which caused Ben to look quizzically across the desk at her. Shaking her auburn hair with irritation, she added, “I put my car in the shop, and they promised me it’d be ready by five—now they say It’ll be tomorrow.”
It was almost five o’clock, and for an hour the two of them had been struggling with the Tellerman case. Virgil Tellerman had been injured on the job at Case Bearings Company, and when the company refused to pay up, he had sued—and lost. Though Tellerman had no money, after listening to him, Dani had decided to take the case because he was being cheated. She had covered all the paperwork and sent Ben out that morning to check out the witnesses. He had returned to the office at three, and they had gone over the case from every angle, with little success. The phone call was just an extra aggravation.
“You need a ride home, Miss Ross?” Ben asked.
“Oh, I hate to bum rides! But Dad wants to see you anyway.” Dani got up and stretched her aching muscles. “He wants to talk to you about some of the cases you’ve been working on. We might as well go now.”
They left the office. When they got to the street, Savage said, “Car’s in the lot down the street.” As they walked along, he commented, “You know, on the Tellerman thing, I got a feeling the witnesses were all bought off. All three who testified against Tellerman have been with Case Bearings since before the Flood.”
“They were bribed to lie on the stand?”
“I guess no cash changed hands—but it wouldn’t surprise me much if all three didn’t get a promotion pretty soon—or a big Christmas bonus.”
As he turned in to the parking lot she shook her head. “Case Bearings is a multimillion-dollar business. Why would they swindle a small working man out of compensation?”
He gave her a glance and shrugged. “Total depravity, I think they call it.” He stopped by a car and with no expression said, “This is it.”
Dani stopped and looked down at the old Pinto. Originally the car had been one color, but it was nearly impossible to guess which one. All four fenders and one door had been replaced with wrecking-yard parts, none of them painted to match, so it resembled a patchwork quilt. “You’ll have to get in from the driver’s side,” Ben said, opening the door. “That side is jammed.”
Awkwardly she climbed in and scooted across the seat, giving a little cry as something punched her bottom.
“Watch out for the broken springs,” Ben warned belatedly.
The inside was a wreck, mostly held together with silver duct tape. Some of the instruments had been removed so that the panel resembled some battered pug with most of his teeth knocked out.
Ben reached under the dash and pulled out two wires; when he touched the ends together, the battery cranked the engine, which caught at once. Putting the wires back, he shifted to low and moved the wreck out of the lot. “Which way?” he asked.
“Go right. We’ll take Highway 61.”
The interior was stifling, and he announced. “That’s the air-conditioner switch.” Dani saw he was pointing to the window crank and rolled the window down. He did likewise, and hot air blew in, offering some relief.
“You’re probably wondering where I got my car,” he said, moving easily through the traffic, changing lanes and barely missing pedestrians.
“From a wrecking yard?”
“Right the first time! Paid fifty bucks for this little hummer.” Ben seemed proud of the thing and added, “Engine is good, but the body is a little rough.”
When they got to the turnoff and hit the potholes, the jar nearly shook her teeth out, but he only commented, “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to fix the shocks.”
“Why’d you buy a thing like this, Ben?” she gasped as he swerved from side to side, dodging the worst of the holes.
“Wanted a heap I could just walk off and leave with no regrets,” he answered. Then he explained. “Better that way. I don’t like to invest too much in things you can lose.”
All the way down the lane, she thought about his words. A dark streak of fatalism ran through the man, and she thought I don’t like to invest too much in things you can lose might be the key to that side of him. Suddenly she thought, Maybe I’m a little bit that way myself. The thought disturbed her, so she tuned it out.
Dani pointed out her parents’ house, and when he stopped, she asked suddenly, “Did you mean cars—or people—what you said about not investing too much?”
He gripped the wheel with his square hands. “Both,” he said, getting out. Dani dodged the broken spring and asked no more questions.
Leading the way, she found her father in his study, reading. “Here’s Ben, Dad. I made him bring me home, when my car wasn’t ready. You two can talk until dinner.”
After blessing the meal, they all began on the roast that Ellen had cooked. Ben said almost nothing, but he ate hungrily, and once he commented, “I haven’t had a meal like this in a long time, Mrs. Ross. You’re a wonderful cook.”
As the meal ended Rob said, “Dad, I’ve got to have someone look at my car. It’s running rough.”
“Mind if I take a look at it?” Ben asked. “I’ve tinkered with engines quite a bit.” The two left the dining room as the boy explained the misbehavior of the engine.
“He certainly doesn’t have much to say, does he, Dani?” Ellen commented. “Hardly said a word all through the meal.”
“He’s the kind who doesn’t talk unless he has some
thing to say,” Daniel responded as he began to help clear the table. “I was a little apprehensive about him, Dani, but he’s sharp as a knife! We went over several cases, and he knows them better than I do.”
Dani had leaned over to pick up the gravy bowl. Now she looked at her father and nodded. “Oh, he’s good, Dad. But he runs ahead of things sometimes.” She related how Ben had cut corners on an office procedure and concluded, “He was fired for insubordination in Denver. That’s not a good sign.”
Daniel shook his head. “Every really good man—or woman—I ever knew wanted to get things done! That means more than keeping a record of it or running to the boss every time something has to be done.” He paused and wiped his forehead. “It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ellen agreed. “I think the air conditioner is off again.”
“Oh, no!” Daniel groaned. “Not another repair bill on that blasted thing!”
They finished the dishes and adjourned to the patio, where they found Ben and Rob in a deep conversation about engines. Rob jumped up and exclaimed excitedly, “Dad, Ben fixed the Vette. Just turned a screw or something, and it hums like a sewing machine!”
“Just out of time.” Ben got to his feet, and they all sat down.
“I’d ask you to stay the night, Ben,” Daniel said. “But the central air is out. We’ll all roast tonight, I’m afraid.”
“I worked for a heat-and-air outfit once,” Ben said. He got to his feet, and proposed “Rob, if you’ll show me where the thermostat and the units are, maybe we can jury-rig something that’ll last the night.”
“It’s an old unit,” Ellen called out as Rob led him into the house. “It would cost a lot to get it all replaced, but you can’t live in Louisiana without air.”
Shortly, Ben and Rob came out of the house. Ben went to his car, came back with a toolbox, and the two of them disappeared around the side of the house.
Fifteen minutes later they heard a sound, and Daniel said, “There’s the compressor. He got it going.”
Ben came back with Rob. He put the tools back in the Pinto, saying, “Not too bad. The circuit in the outside compressor is shot. I’ll pick one up tomorrow. Cost maybe twenty dollars.”
“Thank God!” Daniel laughed. “I was thinking of a couple thousand at least!”
“Most things can be fixed.” Ben smiled. Then the smile faded, and he shrugged. “Most mechanical things, that is.”
“Have some tea, Ben,” Ellen offered. “You’ve earned it. Sometime you’ll have to come out and just visit—instead of fixing all our broken-down machinery.” She was pouring the tea into his glass when Allison came out wearing a gymnastics outfit—a hot-pink bodysuit over gray tights with black leather ballet slippers. She almost turned and went back, when she saw them all seated there, but Ellen said, “Come on, Allison. You won’t bother us with your practice.” She looked at Ben and explained, “Allison’s taking gymnastics at school.”
“Oh, Mother, I don’t want—”
“Aw, come on, little sister,” Rob urged. “Show them that new stunt you showed me yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m no good!” Allison protested, looking at Ben in embarrassment, but when the others urged her, she finally moved to an open spot of concrete, pulled open a pad and spread it out. Putting her hands over her head, she lowered them quickly and went into a handstand—but she went too far and fell with a thump. She got up and tried again but failed. Her face turned red, and she cried, “I’ll never learn to do a handstand!”
Dani was sorry they were there. Obviously Allison was too shy to perform. She decided to get the others to go in the house, but before she spoke, Ben said, “You’re trying to stand on your palms. Try standing on your fingers.”
They all looked at him in surprise, and Allison asked, “Stand on my fingers?”
“Sure.” Ben got up, walked over to where she was, and held his hand out to her. “When you kick up, Allison, you have to let your weight rest here.” He indicated the underside of his fingers. “If you try to bear your weight on the palm—right here—you’ll never get up. So roll up just far enough so that your weight falls on the fingers. It’ll hurt a little at first, but when you start falling over, you can push with your fingers, and It’ll stop you from going over. That’s what a handstand really is—a controlled fall. Your body is overbalanced and wants to fall, but you won’t let it. You keep it up by pushing with your fingers.”
Allison stared at her hands. “I don’t know. . . .”
Ben said, “Let me show you. Stand close, and watch my fingers when I kick up. They’ll turn white because they’re pressing hard to keep my body from falling. Watch now . . . !”
He suddenly bent at the waist, his legs went up, and he held his body still in a perfect handstand. “Look at my fingers,” he said, and when Allison looked with big eyes, he added, “You can’t hold your body straight, either. Put an arch in it—like this.”
“It looks so easy when you do it!” she exclaimed.
“Anything is easy after you learn to do it.” He grinned from his upside-down position. “As young as you are, you’ll learn to do this in no time. . . .”
He drew out of his arched position, suddenly threw his legs forward, and his body performed a perfect forward flip, so that he landed on his feet as easily as a cat. He turned to face Allison and was suddenly conscious that the rest of the family was watching him in amazement.
“Good night!” Rob breathed. “You must be an acrobat!”
“Easier than it looks,” Ben explained uncomfortably. “Now, Allison, just try a kick up, and I’ll stop you until you learn to hold yourself with your fingers.”
She looked dubious but took a deep breath and kicked up. He stopped her from falling, saying, “Now, hold it there by pressing against the mat—see? It’s easy, isn’t it? Now try another kick.” She tried another, and this time, though she swayed precariously, she did not fall. “That’s it!” Ben encouraged quickly. “Now, arch your back and throw your feet forward—keep your legs together and point with your toes like a ballet dancer. Good!”
Allison kept her balance for what seemed like a long time, then came to her feet, her face shining. “Ben! It was easy!” She reached out and grabbed his arm demanding, “Teach me some more!”
As he looked at Allison, Dani saw an unusually gentle cast to his face, but when he glanced toward the others, the tough expression came back. “Well, you work on that; then I’ll show you how to stand on one hand. That’ll dazzle your gym teacher!” He dropped his gaze and said abruptly, “Well, I’ll have to get along.”
“Oh, stay and visit for a while!” Daniel invited instantly.
Though they all urged him, he refused, offering instead, “I’ll pick up the part for the compressor tomorrow. Then if it’s all right with the boss, I’ll run out and install it.”
Dani nodded. “It’ll be a great help, Ben.”
“Good night—and thanks for the dinner.”
As he pulled away in the Pinto, Ellen asked, “What sort of place does he live in, Dani?”
“I have no idea,” she answered slowly, adding, “I didn’t know he was an acrobat, either.” She turned to watch the car disappear in the gathering darkness and said so quietly that no one heard her. “I’m beginning to think there are quite a few things about Mr. Benjamin Davis Savage I don’t know!”
The next day, after the office closed, Savage went home with Dani and installed the part in the compressor. Ellen pressed him into staying for dinner, and afterwards Rob and Allison almost came to blows over him. Rob wanted to talk cars, and Allison wanted Ben to help her with gymnastics. He did both, and several times over the course of a few days, Dani was pressured into asking him home.
She said once to her father. “Dad, maybe it’s not wise to have Savage here so much.”
“Keep the hired hands in their place?”
Dani flushed but shook her head stubbornly. “You know what I mean, Dad. Business is business—and it might give him
the wrong impression.”
Daniel looked at her with speculation. She had always been smarter than most people, and she had handled it well. But something in her could not accept Savage, and he thought he knew what it was. “Ben gives you problems, doesn’t he?”
“Why, no!” Dani gave him an indignant look, and the lift of her square chin revealed the stubborn streak in her. “Why would you think that, Dad?”
“Because you keep him at arm’s length. Either you’re a little snobbish—or you’re jealous of him.”
“Jealous!”
“Well, maybe you’re not, but I am!” Daniel said emphatically. “He’s good with people. Look how he’s got Rob and Allison eating out of his hand! And he’s a good cop—maybe better than I am. Maybe he’s smarter than you.”
“He’s not better than you!” she objected too loudly.
He rubbed his chin and cocked his head to one side. “Well, maybe you’re attracted to him—and afraid of that.”
Dani laughed and shook her head. “Oh, Dad, don’t be silly! The last thing I need is a romance with a roughneck like Ben Savage!”
She had laughed, but later the conversation would come back to her.
As the weeks went by, something else happened that was hard to take. Calls kept coming in, clients wanting to speak to Ben. At first it amused her—but when she tried to ease herself into a few of the cases, she discovered it could not be done.
Al Overmile was in the office with her, once, when such a call came. A woman named Lucy Benton had retained the firm to run a check on one of her relatives, and she insisted on speaking to Ben.
“Mr. Savage is out of the office, Mrs. Benton, but he’s filled me in on your case. Couldn’t you talk to me about it?”
Overmile lit a cigarette as Dani finally concluded, “Very well, Mrs. Benton. I’ll have Mr. Savage call you as soon as he comes in. Good-bye.”
She put the receiver down with more force than was necessary, and Overmile said, “Wouldn’t talk to you, eh?” When she shook her head silently, he sent a blue smoke ring out of his lips, then advised sourly, “Bad business, Dani. Savage is not a team player.”
Guilt by Association Page 5