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“That’s not it either,” Stubb told him. “Anyway, who says we have to do anything?”

Why,” the witch said. “That is what we must discover, Ozzie.”

Candy was staring at the witch and Stubb. “All of a sudden it seems like you two are pretty close.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you about that in a minute. For now, let’s get back to Proudy. Anybody got any more suggestions about what he might be up to?”

Barnes said, “Remember those women who came to see Mrs. Baker? Could he be working for them? And anyway, what are they doing?”

“I don’t know,” Stubb said. “When she told us all that, I more than half thought she was making it up, or blowing a couple of nosy neighbors into spy stuff. Now I don’t know.”

Candy asked, “You think he could be working for them?”

“No. Not working for them. But he could have got onto them, and he might have talked to the Baker woman for all we know, and be trying to cut himself a piece of cake. He’s on his own for sure, and when a cop goes on his own when he could be home in bed, he smells a promotion or money. Any of you a mass murderer?”

“Don’t try to be funny, Jim.”

“Okay, then it’s money. We’ll talk about that later too. Should we ring him up and ask what the hell? I’m serious. He’s in seven seven one, and all we have to do is pick up the phone and dial his room.”

“I’m for it,” Barnes said. “After all, we carried him in and got him patched up after one of his own men hit him. If he’s after us now, I think we’re entitled to some kind of explanation.”

“One in favor,” Stubb said. “How about you, Candy?”

“You know as well as I do that it’ll end up with me getting busted.”

“One against.” Stubb glanced at the witch.

“It seems to me we should know more.”

“One for later. Make that two for later—when I talk to a cop, I like to have something I can pry with. Later it is.”

The telephone rang.

From The High Country

Stubb reached for the telephone. The witch said, “This is my room. You may hand it to me.” He nodded.

Candy nudged Barnes. “You think it’s him calling us?”

“Yes,” the witch said into the receiver. “This is she.” Then, “Of course you are. I knew your voice at once. What is it you want?”

There was a long pause while the witch listened.

“No, I did not. I will not say I never call invisible powers, but I have done nothing to him … . Everything affecting human lives involves spirits. That is nothing. There are many other explanations … . I would suggest that you go home. It is very late—if this were summer, you would see dawn at the windows.” She hung up.

Stubb was leaning back in his chair. The light from the weak hotel bulb above the table showed how waxen his skin was under a dark stubble. “You going to tell us?” he asked casually.

Ignoring the cigarette that smouldered on her plate, the witch got out another and her gold lighter. The flame trembled ever so slightly.

“Later, maybe,” Stubb said.

“I will tell you now, if you wish. It was the girl who just left. She was curious about the policeman and went past his room after all. She said he came out and tried to question her, but she would tell him nothing; when she threatened to scream, he released her. She asked if I had laid a curse on him.”

“And you said you hadn’t. Why’d she ask?”

“I assume because he looked or acted like one who had been cursed. She was prolix, but she really told me very little. I gathered she thought him irrational.”

“Did she tell you what he asked her?”

“Only that he wanted to know if we were all here, and that he seemed to expect her to know who he meant by all. She described us, and he asked who else was here.”

“Swell.” Stubb sounded bitter.

Candy asked, “What’s the matter, Jim?”

“Well, for one thing, I didn’t want her to talk to him. She has, and she’s sure as hell told him something. You can’t describe four people without telling an investigator who’s listening a lot, just to start with, and who knows what else she told him? For another thing, now I’ve got some idea of what he’s looking for.”

“And what’s that?” Barnes asked. “Or is it a big secret?” He had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

“It’s no secret and it’s just a guess. But I think it’s a good guess. Who’s not here, Ozzie? Which of us isn’t here?”

Barnes’s eyes rolled as he looked about the room,the glass eye not quite tracking with his real one. “Why, we’re all here,” he said. “Everybody’s here.”

Stubb shook his head.

Candy asked, “You don’t mean Mrs. Baker?”

“Close, but no cigar. Who was she looking for? Who were the women who came and talked to her looking for? Last night, folks—just last night—there were five of us living together in the same house. Who’s missing?”

Barnes nodded. “Free, of course. I guess I didn’t think about him because we’d already talked about him when Mrs. Baker was here.”

“We’re going to talk about him some more. I didn’t want to do it then because that Duck girl was in the bathroom and so forth. But that’s why we’re here.” Stubb walked across the room to the television set and switched it on. “I don’t like talking against noise any more than the rest of you—maybe less. If anybody can guarantee no one’s listening in, I’ll turn it off. Anybody want to try?”

No one spoke.

“It stays on, then. The last we heard, Proudy was a couple of rooms away, but he may have got closer by now. There’s half a dozen tricks for listening through a hotel wall, and all of them work pretty good.”

Candy blurted, “All right, Mr. Free’s not here—and I don’t give a damn about the God-damned TV. If you knew how much talking I’ve done against rock tapes and radios and everything else—What I want to know is why are we here. If the crystal gazer wants to put me up for the night, fine. I could have found some other place, but this is as good as any. Only if you’re going to tell me it’s out of the goodness of her heart, forget it. In the first place, I don’t think she’s got one. In the second place, if she does there’s no goodness in it.”

“Thank you,” the witch said. “I am delighted by your gracious acceptance of my hospitality.”

“Knock it off,” Stubb told Candy. “What the hell do you think the rest of us are—a choir? This is a business meeting. You and Ozzie might as well know right now that before you came up Madame S. and I formed a little partnership. We’re going to help each other instead of fighting each other, and we’re going to split whatever we make right down the middle. She didn’t get you up here, I did—the room is just in her name, that’s all. And I didn’t get you up out of the goodness of my heart either. I did it because we want to invite you in. You get to hear our offer, and if you don’t take it you can split.”

Barnes was suddenly alert. “All right,” he said. “What’s the offer?”

“Let me ask you something first. Did Free ever say anything to you that made you think he had something valuable hidden?”

Barnes shut his eyes as he cast his mind back. “Suppose he did. Why?”

“We think he did. I’ll give you this just to show we’re dealing off the top. One time Free told me he came from what he called ‘the High Country.’ He said he had a ticket hidden away that would take him back there if he wanted to go, but it was too late to use it. What do you think of that?”

Barnes shrugged. “What do you think of it? That’s what seems important to me. You were there and you heard him, and now you say you’re going to make me an offer. What do you think?”

“I haven’t got anything but guesses,” Stubb said, “but I’ll let you have them—I’ve given them to Madame S. here already.” He took off his glasses, inspected their lenses and put them on again. “Ever since I talked to him, I’ve been wondering what the High Country might mean, because if I knew that, I’d have a pretty good idea what kind of a ticket it would take to get you there. Madame S. has her own ideas, but I’ll lay off them—she can tell you herself if she wants to. In the first place, the High Country could really be another country—Switzerland, maybe, or someplace else that’s got a lot of high ground; maybe the highlands of Scotland. In that case, the ticket’s probably his passport. Anybody buy that?”