“Right,” Durango readily admitted. “A man has to consider his career, after all.”
“Why not take advantage of what’s at hand and consider it later?” Debbie put her hands on her hips and swayed temptingly.
“Get thee behind me, Satan.” Durango’s eyes appreciated her pose. “For a girl who hates cops, you’re certainly eager to oblige.”
“If rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it.”
“Rape! That’s a laugh. I haven’t even laid a finger on you yet.”
“Yet. But you’ve been raping me with your eyes all morning. Oh, don’t bother denying it, Durango. I really don't mind. The truth is, I kind of go for you.”
“The truth is,” Durango corrected her calmly, “that you think if you seduce me I’ll be so overwhelmed by your talents that I'll let you go.”
“Well, it’s worth a try,” Debbie admitted.
“You sure think you’re pretty hot stuff.”
“I am, baby. I am.” Debbie crossed over to the armchair in which Durango was sitting. She stood with her feet wide apart so that she was straddling Durango’s outstretched legs without touching them and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Don’t you think so?” she added softly.
“If rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it.” Durango’s white teeth flashed a smile at her and his eyes sparkled in his tough, swarthy face.
Debbie moved even closer. Her hands fumbled at the bodice of the robe. One of her breasts swung free, firm and high and proud. Its dark red tip grazed Durango’s craggy features. He didn’t move. But the knuckles of his hands clenched white on the arms of the chair.
“Okay, so you’ve got will-power,” Debbie murmured.
“You don’t affect me in the least.”
Debbie smiled slightly and her hand dropped to Durango’s lap. “Oh, no?” she chuckled. “Then what do you call this?” Her fingers fumbled at the zipper of his pants, and soon she was gazing down on the proof of his excitation. Her fingers stroked Durango’s ears gently as she lowered herself, still facing him, laughing tremblingly in his face.
Durango moved then. His hips jerked upwards hard to meet her. His hands fastened over the robe still covering her haunches. His body began to move as though powered by a dynamo, urging hers on to faster, more frenzied rhythms.
Suddenly there was the slam of a door from the front of the apartment. Durango gave Debbie a hard shove and sprang to his feet. She landed on the floor and lay there, stunned by the unexpected rejection, still panting, her body still half-exposed. Durango just managed to close his zipper when the door to Dr. Golden’s office opened.
The man stood in the doorway and stared in amazement.
“What the hell do you want?” Durango yelled. “Who said you could come in here?”
“I live here!” the man answered indignantly.
“You what?”
“I live here! I'm Dr. Zachary Golden and this is my apartment. But who are you people?” He glanced down at Debbie lying half-nude on the rug. “And what do you think you’re doing here?”
“Wait a minute,” Durango calmed down. “You’re Dr. Mavis Golden’s husband? Is that right?”
“That’s right. And where is my wife? What are you doing in her office? Who are you?”
“I’m Detective Durango of Hom—of the Police Department. I think you’d better sit down, Dr. Golden. I have something to tell you. Debbie, cover yourself and sit over there while I talk to Dr. Golden.”
Durango led Zachary Golden over to the couch and sat down beside him. Debbie sat on the other side of the room, hugging the robe about her and completely covered now. As gently as he could, Durango told Zachary Golden what had happened.
The doctor didn’t break down. The skin over his distinguished features grew very tight, but his emotions were hidden behind the tightness. The shock told mostly in the way his hands were twisting together. Aside from that, he retained his composure.
“My wife murdered. It seems hard to believe,” he said dully. “And you’re a detective.” He looked at Durango and then his eyes moved slowly to consider Debbie. “But who is she? What is she doing here? And dressed like that? And what was she doing on the floor before? Wait! That’s my wife’s robe she’s got on.”
“I know.” Durango thought fast. “She’s Debbie Smith. A friend of your wife’s. She got caught in the rain and your wife gave her the robe to wear while her clothes dried out.”
“A friend of Mavis? But I never met her.”
“I know.” Debbie thought even faster than Durango as she spoke. “I wasn’t really a friend. Just a casual acquaintance. I came to her for help last night. She was very kind.”
“Then you were here when she was murdered!” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, I was.”
“Then this girl is a suspect!” Zachary Golden turned back to Durango accusingly.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. One of many.”
“What were you two doing when I came in? he asked suspiciously. “Why was she lying on the floor with her body exposed that way?”
“She’d simply tripped on the hem of her robe is all,” Durango answered glibly.
Zachary Golden stared at Durango disbelievingly. Durango stared back, his mind racing frantically, searching for words to make the explanation sound more logical. He was saved from making the effort by the telephone bell ringing suddenly and loudly.
Durango answered it. It was Sergeant Connors, ready to go on duty and calling for instructions. Durango turned away from Dr. Zachary Golden and spoke very quietly into the mouthpiece so that he wouldn’t be overheard. “There’s some people I want you to check on for last night,” he told Connors. “I want their movements checked out thoroughly. They were all here together early in the evening. I want to know where they went and what they did after that. If they’ve got alibis, I want them verified. If you can’t verify, or if there’s any doubt of any kind, bring them downtown. Try to get them to go voluntarily, but if they won’t, arrest them.”
“On what charge?” Connors asked.
“Suspicion of murder.”
“Okay, let’s have their names.”
“I can give you their addresses and places of business, too.” Durango took the alphabetical index card file Dr. Golden had kept of her patients, looked up the information and rattled it off to Connors. “Wait a minute," he said after he’d given Connors the last name. “I just noticed something. There are some others I’m going to want picked up after you get through with this bunch.”
“Let’s have ’em,” Connors sighed.
“It will take a minute. See, I only just now spotted that Dr. Golden jotted down her patients’ problems by category on the corners of these cards. Let me run through them fast and I’ll tell you who I want.”
“But how will you know? Does she say they’re homicidal or something?”
“Nope, but in the group session she had with the list of kooks I gave you, it seems they had a cozy little discussion concerning murdering her.”
“A pleasant way to wile away an evening,” Connors observed drily. “But how do you know about it?” he asked as an after-thought.
“She taped these sessions. I played the tape.”
“Neat. And you found a clue on it?”
“Maybe. The fact is that since she said something about the group just before she died, I played the tapes of all her group sessions. The trouble is that judging from them, any one of the looneys she was treating might have been capable of killing her.”
“So we’re right back where we started. But who are these others you want me to check on? And why?”
“She said something to the group that just might point the finger at the murderer.” Durango eyed Dr. achary Golden across the room. He seemed to be leaning forward on the couch, trying to strain to hear. “I don’t want to go into it now,” Durango added to Connors. “Let me just give you the names.” He thumbed through the index cards slowly and gave five more names and addresses to Connors. “I’ll, see you downtown later,” he told Connor and hung up.