“That’s a public call booth on highway 57. If you have a Survey map of the district, the call box is in zone A.3.” Harmas thanked him, and hung up.
Around ten o’clock the same evening, Harmas walked down the long corridor that led to Jenson’s office through the usual smell of disinfectant and sweat of a cop house.
Jenson, looking dirty and tired, was talking to someone on the telephone. When he saw Harmas, he said, “Well, keep after it… yeah… yeah… call me back,” and he hung up. He frowned at Harmas who was now sitting astride one of the hard backed chairs. “What do you want?”
“I’m just back from seeing Maddox. He sends his love. How are you making out?”
Jenson rubbed the back of his neck. He looked like a man who had been under pressure for more hours than he likes to remember.
“One of my men was shot to death by a hold-up thug who cleaned out the Caltex cash box on the Brent highway a few days back. The same gun that shot my man, killed Barlowe.”
Harmas drew in a long, slow breath.
“So what now?”
“We’re checking on every bald-headed man in the district. We’re hunting for the gun,” Jenson said, his expression grim.
“I have every man I can spare on the job.”
“How much did the hold-up thug get away with?”
“A little over three thousand.”
“Did you get a description of the guy?”
“Yeah… not the same guy who shot Barlowe. This one was tall,” Jenson leaned back into his chair, took a cigar from his desk drawer and lit it. “Here’s something odd. We had a report from the Marlborough hotel that a hat and coat were stolen on the night of the robbery. The hat was Swiss style with a cord and feather… the gunman had the same kind of hat. Could mean something. I had an idea that the gunman was passing through, but now I am beginning to wonder if he wasn’t a local man.”
“Who gave you a description of this guy?”
“The gas attendant.”
“Could be he was in such a panic he has the description wrong. Could be the gunman is our sex killer.”
Jenson blew smoke to the ceiling.
“I guess.”
Harmas brooded for a long moment, then said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d take me out to Jason’s Glen tomorrow morning.
I have an idea… I could be wasting your time, but I don’t think I am.”
Jenson wiped his sweating face.
“I want to go out there myself. Okay, I’ll pick you up. What’s your idea?”
Harmas got to his feet.
“It’ll keep… then see you tomorrow,” and he made for the door.
As Jenson was about to pull into the lay-by at the bottom of the dirt road leading to Jason’s Glen, Harmas said sharply,
“Hold it!”
Jenson trod on the brake and brought his car to a standstill. “Before you muck up the ground,” Harmas said, “let’s take a look.”
He and Jenson went over to the lay-by. On a patch of soft ground they came upon a deep impression of a tyre track.
Harmas stared at it.
“This could be too good to be true,” he said. “If we find the same track at Jason’s Glen, I’d say my hunch is paying off.
Take a look at this… see how the tyre is worn on the left side. It is as good as a finger print. If you saw it again would you recognize it?”
Jenson examined the track for a long moment, then he nodded.
“Yeah… so what?”
“We’ll go up to the glen and see if we can find the same impression there.”
Jenson shrugged and returned to the car. With Harmas at his side, he drove up the narrow road that led to the glen.
It took the two men more than an hour of patient searching before Jenson came across the tyre track.
“Here it is,” he called to Harmas who was on the far side of the glen.
Harmas joined him. The track was clear in the sandy soil. The two men squatted beside it.
“That’s it!” Harrnas’s expression showed his excitement. “Who says I’m not one hell of a detective!” He moved back.
“This guy drove his car between these two shrubs. The car would be out of sight… yeah, that’s it!”
“Will you quit talking to yourself and make with some explanations?” Jenson said. “You think this could be the killer’s car?”
As they walked back to the car, Harmas said, “That’s my bet. Remember I asked Mrs. Barlowe why she and her husband came out here and she said he was in a romantic mood and wanted to?”
“Yeah… go on.”
“She let drop that they had gone to the Court road-house. I went out there last night and got talking to the barman. He says Barlowe didn’t want to come out here and they almost had a stand-up fight before Barlowe finally agreed to bring her here. She went to the ladies’ room and kept him waiting some minutes. I wondered if she had used the telephone.
There’s a record of all out-going calls, and at the time she was in the ladies’ room, there’s a record of a call to Elmwood 68009. I checked and it’s the number of the call box we’ve just looked at. I think Maddox is right as usual.” Harmas shrugged. “He’s always right. I think she and a boy friend murdered Barlowe. The boy friend was waiting for her to call, alerting him they were on their way. He then drove up there, hid his car and when they arrived, he shot Barlowe.”
Jenson looked worried.
“Are you suggesting the boy friend then attacked and raped her? To hell with that for an idea!”
“I’ll quote Maddox. He said he would be happy to be attacked and raped for fifty grand.”
“That’s what Maddox says. A woman wouldn’t….”
“But we are one jump ahead of you,” Harmas said. “We’ve turned a Tracing Agency onto this woman and they’ve come up with quite a dossier. She has not only been in jail for stealing she was also a prostitute before she married Barlowe. I think Maddox is right. A woman like that wouldn’t flinch from rough treatment if it gave her an alibi and earned her fifty thousand dollars.”
“You think this sex killer is her boy friend?”
“No. I think her boy friend did the Caltex job, and he duplicated the sex killing as a front. The fact your patrol officer and Barlowe were killed by the same gun, points to it.”
“If these two were going to horn in on a fifty thousand dollar insurance,” Jenson said, “why should he risk his neck for a three thousand dollar hold-up?”
Harmas stared at him for a long moment.
“Yeah… that’s a point. Look, let’s keep an open mind on this. The Barlowe woman has already lied once. Let’s go and talk to her… maybe she’ll lie again.”
Meg Barlowe was sitting up in bed as the nurse led Jenson and Harmas into her room. Although her left eye was stall badly bruised, Harmas was again aware of her sensual handsomeness.
“I have to worry you again, Mrs. Barlowe,” Jenson said.
“I’m told you’ll be leaving here in a couple of days.”
Meg looked from Jenson to Harmas and then back to Jenson again. “Yes.”
Harmas had an idea she was nervous. He stood back and watched her.
“I understand you and your husband spent the evening at the Court road house and he then persuaded you to go with him to Jason’s Glen: Is that correct?” Jenson asked. Meg nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you want to go with him?”
“Not particularly. In fact I told him it mightn’t be safe, but he laughed at me. I guess he was a little high… I guess I was too.”
“It was his idea to go out there… not yours?” She stared at him for a long moment before saying, “That’s right.”
“When you reached Jason’s Glen, did you see anyone up there… any parked car?”
“No. I - I thought we had the place to ourselves.”