He whined, almost like a kid, “Aw, don’t make me divvy this up with anyone, Cap; this is too good to split.”
“Well, see that you don’t muff it,” I warned him.
She’d be good for weeks, to wave in front of my men and the commissioner. I could get something to hold her on, even if it was only knowing Trinker, and hold — and hold — maybe until the case curled up and died of old age. It was a dirty trick but — place yourself in my shoes.
Holmes was back in under an hour. He must have just stuck his head in the place, gulped a beer, and beat it out again. He had a burnished metal mirror from her kit, about the most perfect surface for taking prints there is.
It seemed another hour before I got the report from Prints. It must have been much less than that, since all they had to do was compare the two sets under the slide. In the meantime I’d walked five miles around my desk.
The phone rang and I jumped.
“Doesn’t check,” Prints said. “Not at all similar to the ones we got up at Trinker’s place.”
Jordan’s second call came right on top of that, to give me the knockout-blow. “I’m up in her place now, Cap, upstairs over the Inn. She’s down there doing a number for the supper-trade, and she’s bringing up sandwiches and drinks.”
“I’m not interested in your social life,” I snapped.
He went on:
“The kind of gas she uses on her engine is called: gardenia. I promised to buy her a bottle. She can’t eat anything sweet, her teeth are on the blink. All her hanks are white with just her initials on ’em. The only thing I haven’t turned up yet is about the kicks. She admits she knows Trinker, but she doesn’t know he’s dead yet, I can tell that by the way she talks. Furthermore, she was singing downstairs here at six last night, like she is now, I found that out from the waiters. How’m I doing, Cap?”
I felt like saying, “You’re cutting my heart out.” But I managed a hollow, “Great stuff. Stick with it. Maybe we’ll pull her shortly, just on general principle.”
He sounded dubious. “Gee, I hope you pull her soon. I’m a married man, and I’m practically down for the count now.” He hung up abruptly, as though he’d heard her coming back.
I couldn’t stand it around the precinct any more after that. I flung them the usual, “Call me home if there are any new developments,” and got out. That got me home ahead of my usual time, so they weren’t expecting me. Maggie must have been out marketing. The kid was there, standing where the phone was, with her back to me. The front door didn’t make any noise opening. I could see her in there, in the room, from where I was, standing in the door. Her voice reached me; it sounded strained, furry with panic. “What do you want to see me about?”
Blackmail! That was the thought that exploded in my brain like a ghastly star-shell. Somebody had seen her — last night; somebody was threatening her with exposure.
Her voice dropped in defeated acquiescence. “The bandstand beside the lake, in the park... Yes, I know where it is... All right — I’ll come.”
She must have sensed me standing there out in the hall. Her elbow hitched abruptly and there was a click. I heard her give a frightened intake of breath. She didn’t turn around, just stood there with her head averted.
I walked slowly up behind her. I rested both my hands on her shoulders. I could feel the spasmodic shiver course up her spine.
“Who was that?”
“A boy I know in school.”
I made her turn around and look at me — but not roughly, gently. She didn’t want to, resisted, but I made her. I said, “Let me help you, little Jenny. That’s what I’m for.”
I couldn’t get a word out of her. A greater terror held her mute. Just a haunted look on her face, of one on the edge of an abyss. I dropped my arms finally, turned away. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was better not to talk about it, maybe it was better to finish it out in pantomime. To put it into words between us was to give it an even more ghastly reality than it already had.
Maggie came in, bustled around. The meal was an awful thing. We just sat there like two people in the line-up. I would have given anything for Maggie’s obliviousness, peace of mind. She said, “I don’t know what’s the matter with you two, after I go to all the trouble of cooking....” Afterwards she filled a basket full of jellies and things, said she was going to help out at her church bazaar or something like that.
I heard her go but it was like being in a trance. And then Endicott and his girl were left alone. An old war-horse who had had the tables turned on him, by some dirty trick of fate.
The phone rang again, and she heaved above her chair. Well, I kind of jolted too, why should I lie about it? I went over to it, but it was only Holmes. “Hey, Cap, Jordan hasn’t called back any more from the Beechwood. Don’t you think we should have heard from him again by now? He may be in a jam.”
“He’s probably in bed,” I said crossly.
“Hell, he don’t have to be that realistic. He’s on an assignment.”
“All right, see if you can get in touch with him then. Get word to him to bring the dame in, we’ve kibitzed around enough with her.” I wondered what I was going to hold her on. But I had to have somebody; it was her tough luck she’d once asked the way to Trinker’s house two months ago.
But all this was just a side issue now to the main problem. I kept saying to myself: “The bandstand by the lake — in the park. I’ve got to get him. I’ve got to get him and shut him up.” I only knew of one way to shut him up, to shut him up so that he could never menace her again. I only had to look at her, sitting there gripping her chair, suffering the tortures of the damned, to know that I was going to take that way.
I moved with pretended casualness into my own room. She didn’t seem to be watching, didn’t seem to be aware of what I was doing. I took my gun out and pocketed it. I came out again, still casual, moved past her toward the door. I mumbled something like: “Got to go down to the job again. Stay here until Maggie comes back...”
I don’t know whether I’m not a good actor or whether it was feminine intuition. But suddenly she was up, her arms were around me like barnacles, trying to hold me, trying to keep me back. “No! I know where you’re going! I know what you’re going to do! I can tell by the look in your eyes! You took your gun! Daddy...”
I thrust her aside, but she tried to hang on. I just kept stomping forward, with my face expressionless, dragging her after me down the hall like so much dead-weight. She was going wild now, hysterical. I reached up over my shoulder, pried her hands off me, held the two of them together by the wrists with one hand, pulled her into a little windowless spare-room we had off the hall. I locked the door on her in there, took the key out. She was beating a frantic tattoo on it, almost incoherent, calling for help from someone who wasn’t there. “Aunt Margaret, stop him! He’s going to kill someone!”
The phone started up again, just as I opened the outside door. That wouldn’t be the precinct, so soon again. There was, I remembered, a hot-dog concession at the park entrance, open until midnight every night. It provided refreshment for homeward-bound spooners. It provided a pay-phone, too.