“You dumb bitch, you think you ought to talk like that with a little kid around? You two-bit hunk of tail!” Candy reached across the desk and grabbed the nurse by her starched lapels. Like many fat people, Candy was stronger than she looked, and she shook the nurse until her arms were pinioned behind her.
“Thank you, Parker,” the nurse said.
“Right-o,” drawled a voice behind Candy. Then, “Ow! He kick me! That li’l boy kick me!”
He kicked him again, and again and again, the square-toed black shoes flying, tears streaming down small cheeks. Candy squirmed in the orderly’s grip, mouthing words no child should hear.
Citizens Of The Street
“In a wall,” Stubb muttered to himself. Swiftly yet methodically, he inspected every wall, striking matches to peer at those the sunlight failed to reach, finding and lighting Free’s candle, grinning bitterly at the footprints Barnes and the witch had left in the snow, smashing plaster occasionally with a hammer he discovered in a broom closet. He found no ticket, no treasure, no wall safe or hiding place.
Wearily, he walked to the house on the other side of Mrs. Baker’s and knocked. A thin young woman in a soiled housedress came to the door, carrying a baby that squalled fretfully, like a toilet with a leaky valve.
“I’m sorry,” Stubb said. “I hope I didn’t wake him up.”
“She hasn’t been to sleep yet. Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, it’s a girl.” Stubb tickled the baby’s chin. “Isn’t she cute!”
“Her name’s Melissa.”
“How about that! Listen, Melissa, I’m a detective, and I need to ask your mommy a few questions about a certain car. Can I come in?”
The young woman’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute. Are you really a cop?”
Stubb took a badge case from his pocket, flipped it open, and closed it again. “You and your family aren’t in any trouble,” he said. “I just want to ask you about some people who came to the house next door last night.”
“Okay.” The young woman stepped back. “Haven’t I seen you around the neighborhood?”
“Sure,” Stubb told her. “I was in and out of the place two doors down a couple dozen times before they demolished it.”
The young woman nodded wisely. Her house was less clean than Mrs. Baker’s and Free’s had been, and it smelled of excrement.
Stubb sat on a green plastic chair at the dinette table. “I want you to think about the house next door. That way. Got it? An old lady lives there.”
“I think so. I see her shopping sometimes. I don’t know what her name is. Is she all right?”
“Sure, she’s fine—I just talked to her. Last night there was a four-door sedan, dark color, parked in front of her house. It must have been there from about six to at least eight. Think back. Did you see it?”
The young woman shook her head.
“Were you outside anytime yesterday evening?”
The young woman nodded. “That’s the trouble. We went over to my mom’s and left Melissa, then we went to a movie. Ed got off at five, and we left just after that.”
“You don’t work?”
“Not since Melissa came. We decided I’d take at least a year off.”
“What time did you get back from the show?”
“Ten, maybe. See, we had to go over to Mom’s, and then we ate with her, and then we went back to the show, and then we sat around for a while and told her about the picture. It was Something Strange. That was the name of the movie.”
“It’s good you get out once in a while. I know how it is, staying inside all the time looking after a little baby. You like the show?”
The young woman smiled. “I guess so. It scared me silly. I hung onto Ed all night.”
“You want to watch out, or you’ll never get back to work. It’s one of those haunted house pictures, isn’t it?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “There’s this old house up on a rock in New England. Barbara Delacourt answers an ad for a house-sitter. See, she’s supposed to take care of it while they’re in Europe. What she don’t know is the house eats people, and every so often they do this to feed it. Once she started to go into a closet, and the clothes hanging up and the shoe boxes on the floor all turn into teeth. I crawled right under the seat.”
“You didn’t have to worry—the star never gets it until the end of the picture. But speaking of haunted houses, you haven’t seen anything funny going on in the place two doors down, have you?”
“Not except that they’re tearing it down. They’re going to tear this one down too, and the place next door. They said they’d tell us when. Ed and me only rent, but we’re looking for something else, maybe an apartment if they’ll take Melissa.”
“They’re going at it pretty slow, if they’ve started on Free’s but haven’t even told you when yours is coming down.”
“Is Free their name? The place across from the Frees’s is condemned too.”
“The doctor’s?”
“No, that’s across from here. Across from the Frees’s. Only with the strike, it might be a long time.”
“I didn’t know there was one.”
“It’s the construction guys. They walked off yesterday afternoon. That’s why nobody’s working today. Some guy got hurt as soon as they started. Some cop. I mean a police officer.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“There was a big number about it. The TV came. Then two construction guys got hurt too, and the rest of them walked out. Unsafe working conditions, I guess.”
“I see.” Stubb rose smiling. “Listen, I can see you’re busy with the baby, and I don’t want to take up any more of your time. You’ve been a big help. If the forces of law and order got more cooperation from good citizens like you, well, the neighborhoods wouldn’t be as bad as they are.”
The young woman looked modest. “Officer, you were just somebody nice to talk to. A break in the day.”
“Thanks. Listen—that car I told you about? I don’t know if it’ll be back, but I will. If you see it, take a good look and write down the license number, will you? Try and see who’s in it.”
The man who answered the next door was large and black and yawning. He wore an undershirt and white boxer shorts. When Stubb showed his badge, he grabbed his wrist. “Hey, man, let me look at that. That say Private Investigator—you ain’t no real policeman.”
“Did I say I was a policeman?”
“Course you did.” The black plucked the badge case from Stubb’s hand. “Get your foot out my door.”
“No, I didn’t. I said I was a detective. I am. I’m a private detective, just like it says on the tin. I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
“You got this out the mail-order catalog.”
“Sure. Where else would I get a badge like that? There’s a company out in California.”
“You just get out my door.” The black drew back the door to slam it, and Stubb stepped inside. The black said, “Man, just what do you think you’re doin’?”
“You said to get out of the door, so I did. I have to talk to you, and I figured you were probably freezing, standing there in your undies.”
“You woke me up, man. I was sleepin’. I work third shift this week.”
“Yeah? What do you do?”
“What you care? Little man, you know I could chew your ass up and spit you out.”
“Sure, but you won’t.” Stubb looked about the room, then sat on a straight-backed chair near the lone, comfortable-looking easy chair.
“You tell me why I won’t. Man, it’s cold in here.”
“Because you know I’m a private op, and I might be carrying a gun.”
“Are you doin’ that?”
Stubb got out a battered pack of cigarettes and offered one. “If I said, you couldn’t be sure you could believe me.”