“As a cover?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, I guess that would fit. What about the ashtray? Flaxford got killed with an ashtray.”
“From the living room.”
“How do you figure that?”
“You remember when I asked about the ashtray? There was one in the living room on the table next to where I was sitting. It wasn’t there tonight and I thought at first that it was the mate to the murder weapon, one of a pair, and the lab crew took both of them for some reason. But there was only the one ashtray. It was in the living room when I entered the apartment and by the time the lab crew got there it was in the bedroom.”
“How’d it get there? He took it?”
“Sure. He came back to the living room and did his fainting act. It seemed strange the way that happened. It was the damnedest delayed reaction ever, if you think about it. Of course if he never saw a corpse before-”
“He’s seen a few.”
“Well, maybe this was the first one he was ever responsible for. So he probably did feel a little weak in the knees, but he managed to get all the way back to where we were and then flop on the rug. It wasn’t a real faint. A minute later I was out the door, and then when you got yourself together you ran right out after me, didn’t you?”
“So?”
“He was still on the rug when you took off. As soon as you cleared the door your buddy here grabbed the glass ashtray off the table and went back to the bedroom with it. Then he parted Flaxford’s hair with it. Maybe he’d only stunned him with the nightstick. Maybe Flaxford was already dead but Loren wanted to supply a convenient murder weapon. I think he was probably still alive, but a couple of swipes with a heavy hunk of glass would finish the job. Then he could recover consciousness and rush out and join you on the street. He’d have the rest of the money picked up by then and he’d be home free, leaving me with a murder rap hanging around my neck.”
I don’t know exactly when Ray Kirschmann knew I was telling the truth, but somewhere in the course of that speech the last of his doubts vanished. Because I heard him unsnap his own holster so that he’d be able to get to his gun if he needed it. The gesture was not lost on Loren, who looked as though he was about to take a step forward, then changed his mind and sat down on the couch.
Ray said, “How much money, Loren?” And when Loren didn’t answer he asked me.
“He’ll tell you sooner or later. My guess is it’s better than twenty thou and probably double that. It would have to be quite a bit to account for the way Debus is pressing to recover it. Of course Loren wouldn’t have known just what it added up to until he got home and counted it, but he could see right away that there was enough there to kill for.”
There was a long silence. Then Loren said, “I thought he was already dead.”
We looked at him.
“He was sprawled out like a corpse. I thought for sure this guy killed him. I don’t know what I thought. I started picking up the money. It was automatic. I don’t know what came over me. Then he opened his eyes and started to get up and-see, all along I thought he was dead, and then he opened his eyes.”
“And then you went back with the ashtray just to make sure, huh?”
“Oh, God,” Loren said.
“How much did it finally come to, partner? Twenty grand? Forty?”
“Fifty.”
“Fifty thousand American dollars.” Ray whistled softly. “No wonder you weren’t crazy about our deal tonight. Why take chances for ten grand when you already had fifty salted away, especially when you’d have to split the ten in half and the fifty was yours free and clear.”
“Half’s yours, Ray. You think I would hold out?”
“Oh, you’re real cute, Loren.”
“I was just waiting until I could find a way to explain it to you. I wouldn’t hold out on you.”
“Of course not.”
“Twenty-five thousand tax-free dollars is your end of it, Ray. Jesus, here we have the murderer standing right next to you. It’s open and shut and all he is is a fucking burglar, Ray. See how sweet it is?”
“Oh, I get it. You think we should hang it all on Bernie here.” Ray scratched his chin. “Thing is, what happens when he tells his story? They’d lean on you and do some checking and you’d crack wide open, Loren.”
“He could get shot trying to escape. Ray, he escaped once, right? He’s a dangerous man. Listen to me, Ray. Think about twenty-five thousand dollars. Or maybe you should get more than half. Is that it? Ray, listen to me-”
Ray hit him. He used his open hand and slapped Loren across the face. Loren put his hand to his cheek and stood there looking properly stunned while the slap went on echoing in the silent apartment.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Ray said after a moment. “You have the right to-oh, fuck this noise. Bernie, if the question ever comes up recall that I read this cocksucker his rights.”
“No question about it.”
“Because I want this to be airtight. I never liked the little shit but you’d think he’d know the difference between clean and dirty, between taking money and killing for it. You know what I’d like? I’d like something hard, some piece of evidence that would nail his ass to the wall. Like his nightstick with Flaxford’s blood on it, but it’s a sure bet that already went down the incinerator.”
“You’ll find the money. With blood on some of it.”
“Unless he stashed it.” He glared at Loren. “But I suppose he’ll tell me where it is.”
“He doesn’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think he actually picked up fifty thousand dollars. I think he picked up forty-nine thousand nine hundred.”
“You lost me, Bernie.”
I held out the blue box. “Now I didn’t open this box yet,” I said, “because I don’t know the combination. But I could probably pick the lock, and when I do I have a feeling I know what we’ll find inside. I think we’ll find a hundred-dollar bill and I think there’ll be a bloodstain on the bill and I even think there’ll be a fingerprint on the bloodstain. Now it could conceivably be Flaxford’s fingerprint if he did some bleeding before Loren got to him. Maybe he cut himself on the lamp as he knocked it over. But I have a hunch it’ll be Loren’s fingerprint, and it certainly ought to be a good piece of evidence, don’t you think?”
Ray gave me a long look. “That’s what you think you’ll find in the box.”
“Call it a hunch.”
“So why not open the box and see for ourselves?” And when I’d done so he said, “Beautiful, Just beautiful. When’d you set this up, anyway? Oh, sure, the time you went to the toilet. You faked flushing it same as Loren did. That’s cute. And the bill was there all the time? The lab boys missed it? Amazing.”
“It must have been in the blue box all along.”
“Uh-huh. I don’t suppose I’ll ever learn what was really in the blue box, and I don’t really suppose I give a shit. I like what’s in there now. That’s a beautiful print, all right, and I’ll bet it does turn up to be yours, Loren, and I’ll also bet that blood turns out to be the right type.” He sighed heavily. “Loren,” he said, “I think you’re in a lot of trouble.”
Chapter Seventeen
“That’s fantastic,” Ellie said. “Just incredible. You actually solved the murder.”
“That’s what I did, all right.”
“It’s amazing.” She drew up her legs and tucked her feet underneath herself. She was wearing the outfit she’d had on the morning she knocked the plant over, the white painter’s pants and the Western-style denim shirt, and she looked as fetching as ever. “I don’t see how you figured it out, Bernie.”
“Well, I told you how it went. The main thing was realizing that the deadbolt had been locked originally. At the time I assumed that Flaxford had locked it on his way out, but of course he was in the bedroom then. Once I made the connection, there were two possibilities. Either the murderer was someone with a key, or Flaxford had locked it himself from the inside. And if Flaxford had locked up, then he was alive when I was in the apartment, and if that was the case only one person could have killed him.”