“Give me a break will you?”
“No, I won’t give you a break. This is serious. This is not fun-and-games time, like with you and Johnny baby.”
“Hey!”
“The big schmuck. Where the hell does he come off telling you not to tell me he knew Greely?”
“Lay off.”
“No, I won’t lay off. What an asshole. The guy’s supposed to love you. So what does he do? He tries to fuck up your defense in a murder trial. That’s really love.”
“Goddamn you-”
Steve threw up his hands. “Right, right. Mustn’t say anything bad about dear old Johnny. He may be a schmuck, he may be an asshole, he may be a murderer, but you still love him.”
“He’s not a murderer.”
Steve broke out laughing. “That’s funny, you know it? I call him a schmuck, an asshole, and a murderer, and you contradict one of the three. It’s an old vaudeville routine.”
“Oh you-”
“You love him, right? That’s what this is all about. You love him. No matter what. Is that true?”
“Yes… I love him.”
“Even if he killed Greely?”
“He didn’t.”
“Yeah, but what if he did? Would you love him then?”
“I am not answering hypothetical questions.”
“I don’t blame you. That’s a hard question. If he killed Greely and is letting you go to jail for it, it might make him a hard person to love.”
Steve leaned back in his chair, pursed his lips and looked around the room, thinking things over.
Sheila sat and glared at him.
“Well,” he said. “Any more little surprises?”
“No.”
“Anything else I should know?”
For a moment she just kept glaring at him. Then she sighed, and the resistance just seemed to drain out of her. He knew why. It was the relief of being able to talk about something other than John Dutton.
“Uncle Max was just here.”
“Oh?” Steve said. “What did he want? As if I didn’t know.”
“That’s right. He wanted me to fire you. He was vehement about it. He said after what happened in court today the situation was critical and I couldn’t take the risk. He wants Marston, Marston and Cramden, and he wants them now.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him to stick it.”
“How did he take it?”
“How do you think he took it? He started lecturing me on drugs, sex, my life-style, education, my choice of friends, you name it.”
“What did you do?”
“I stood it for as long as I could. He was rather amusing, really. Telling me if I’d just be serious, like Phillip. Finally it got boring so I shocked him and drove him away.”
“Shocked him? How?”
“Oh, I’ve always been able to shock him. He’s such a prude, you know. That’s how I deal with him. Flatter him, amuse him, kid him, shock him. Keep him off balance. It depends on whether I’m trying to get something out of him or he’s trying to get something out of me.”
“How did you shock him?”
“Oh. Well, you know, he always treats Phillip as if he can do no wrong. So I shook him up a little. Uncle Max had started off on a tangent about sex and promiscuity, and I broke in and said, ‘Speaking of sex, did I ever tell you about the first time I ever played “doctor”? You know, children’s sex games? It was with Phillip.’”
“What made you tell him that?”
“I don’t know. He’s just such a prude that I just love to shock him. I mean, you know, it was just a childish incident, no harm in it. I’d forgotten about it, then a couple of weeks ago I saw Phillip, and we got to talking and somehow or other it came up-I don’t know what reminded me of it-but I told Phillip and he was amused. But Uncle Max almost hit the ceiling.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Well, I didn’t go into clinical details, if that’s what you mean. I just told it was a happy reminiscence. I suppose it was my attitude that bothered him more than anything.”
She chuckled softly and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. “I remember it was a warm summer day in Vermont. I was supposed to stay around the house, but I wandered off into the meadow by myself. And then for some reason, I don’t know why, I slipped through the woods to Uncle Teddy’s property, and there was cousin Phillip. And we were full of mischief and played our little game. And then I remembered I wasn’t supposed to leave our yard, and I wanted to get back before anybody noticed I was gone. It was funny, you know, because I wasn’t worried they’d be angry at me for playing doctor, just for leaving the yard. So I hurried back through the woods.
“I remember I got back to the big circle in front of the house and there was no one there. I’d made it. And just as I got there, my mother came out the front door and picked me up and kissed me. And I realized I’d gotten away with it, and I was happy. Very happy.”
Sheila broke off, and the thin smile faded. “Later that afternoon my mother was killed.”
It clicked. Steve’s head snapped up. “What?”
“That was the same day my mother was killed.”
Steve leaned forward excitedly. “You told all this to Uncle Max?”
“Yes. I really shocked him. He got up and ran out of here-”
Steve was already tearing out of the room.
50
Steve Winslow came running down the front steps of the courthouse. There was a cab with the light on coming down the street. He raced out and hailed it. He hopped in the back seat, barked out the address and the cab took off.
The light at the corner was red. The cab stopped.
“Run the light.”
The cabbie, an old wizened man, half turned in the seat and gave him a look.
“It’s an emergency. Run the light.”
The cabbie grinned and shook his head. “Buddy, I got a license.”
“Run the fucking light.”
“Relax, buddy.”
Steve jerked open the door of the cab and hopped out. While the driver was turned looking after him, Steve jerked open the driver’s door. He grabbed the startled man by the shoulders and hurled him out of the cab.
Steve hopped in the cab, slammed the door and took off, running the red light.
The light at the next corner was red. He ran that too, almost colliding with a delivery truck. He shot on up the street.
By the next corner the lights were green. He floored it, weaving in and out of cars, streaking up the street.
Two blocks and the lights changed. And there was a jam at the intersection. No way to get through. He was going too fast to stop. He looked around desperately. Saw it. A break between the parked cars. He spun the wheel, fishtailed slightly then skidded between the cars and up onto the sidewalk. The cab sped down the sidewalk toward the intersection, half a block away. He kept his hand on the horn, scattering the pedestrians, who dove for safety.
Two cops, one fat, one thin, were having coffee and doughnuts at a diner on the block. They heard the horn and looked up to see a cab flash by the window.
“Holy shit!” the fat cop said.
They got up and rushed out to their car.
Steve heard their siren about five blocks later. He didn’t care. It was actually helpful in clearing the traffic out of his way.
He hit Houston Street and realized he’d gone too far. He hung a right, sped over to Allen, hung another right and headed back downtown.
The siren was getting closer as he hung a left off Allen and pulled up in front of the building. He left the cab standing in the middle of the street with the motor running. He hopped out and tore into the building.
The downstairs door was standing open. A break. He plunged up the stairs.
On the second-floor landing he heard a gunshot. It came from above. He didn’t stop. He turned the corner, ran up the stairs.
The door to Teddy Baxter’s apartment was open. Steve plunged through.
The apartment was empty. He stood there looking around.
A gust of wind moved the curtains by the opened window. Just as Steve spotted it, there came the sound of more gunshots from above.