The Jugger

'You didn't say anything yet?'

'Not a word. Regan, the guy I was talking to, he wants to ask you some questions.'

'Why?'

'Because it's your room. Because you're a stranger here and so is that guy whatchamacallim, and because you knew each other.'

Parker nodded. 'So you want to deal.'

'Partners,' Younger told him. 'Fifty-fifty split, all the way.'

'I don't know where the stuff is.'

'So we'll both look for it, we'll team up.' Younger jabbed a thumb at the room they'd just left. 'Somebody killed him,' he said. 'It wasn't you and it wasn't me. So there's somebody else in this. We got to stick together for our own good.'

The best thing now was to ride along with Younger and look for a chance to get the edge. Parker said, 'It's a deal.'

Younger seemed relieved. 'That's good,' he said. 'We still got to let Regan talk to you, but don't worry, I'll be right there with you.'

Parker wasn't worried. He said, 'Afterwards, I want to get out of the hotel.'

Younger was suddenly suspicious. 'Why? Where you want to go?'

'Back to Joe's house.'

'We look together, Willis.'

'Not to look, to live. To stay.'

'Why?'

'There's no cops there.'

Younger said, 'You don't figure to skip, do you?'

'And leave it all for you?'

It was the right thing to say. Younger nodded and said, 'All right, then. We'll go back together. I'll tell you one thing, I don't think it's in the house. I been through that house, and I don't think it's there. I didn't dig in the cellar, but I looked around there and I didn't see any sign he'd been digging, and I would have. He hid it good, the old bastard.' Younger shook his head, and then smiled. 'But we'll find it, won't we?'

'Sure.'

It made Younger happy to think so. 'Come on,' he said. 'Let's go talk to Regan.'

THREE

SITTING in front of the desk, Parker smoked a cigarette and waited for Regan to come back. Behind him, Younger paced back and forth, back and forth, puffing on a cigar and muttering to himself. They were in the hotel manager's office; Regan had commandeered it for his interviews. He had phoned the manager from Parker's room and then had escorted Parker and Younger down in the elevator. It was clear he didn't have any use for Younger; he treated Younger with the curt, polite contempt of a professional forced to deal with an incompetent in the same profession. It was also clear he didn't yet know what to make of Parker, and was waiting to learn more.

Once in the manager's office, Regan remembered something else he had to do, excused himself, and left Younger and Parker alone. Parker said to Younger, 'Could this place be bugged?'

'What? Of course not.'

Parker shook his head. He couldn't figure out what Regan was up to. He had to know Parker and Younger had already talked together in the hall, and he had to know they'd arrived at the room together in the first place. So what was Regan up to?

Given his choice, Parker would have sided with Regan against Younger rather than the other way around. Given his choice, Parker would have picked almost anyone for a partner instead of Younger; even Tiftus. But he didn't have a choice, so he had to do the best he could with what he had.

He said, 'Don't talk too much when he's asking me questions. Let me answer myself.'

'You don't have to worry about me,' Younger said. He was offended.

'Yes I do. You don't talk unless Regan asks you a direct question, and then all you do is answer it.'

'I'll take care of myself, Willis. You just take care of you.' Younger was really hot under the collar. He stalked back and forth and blew cigar smoke everywhere.

Parker stopped. He didn't want Younger lousing things up for spite, and he was just dumb enough to do it if he was pushed hard enough.

Regan came back in, finally, and said, 'Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Willis. Willis, isn't it?'

'Yes, Willis. Charles Willis.'

'Of course. Abner, sit down, why don't you?' Regan went around behind the manager's desk and sat down there like a man about to get caught up on his work. 'Could I see some identification, Mr. Willis? Just for the record.'

Parker got out his wallet and put it, open, on the desk. 'Everything in there,' he said. 'Go on through it.'

'Ah, thank you, that won't be necessary.' Regan smiled briefly and politely at the wallet, and said to Younger, 'I'm having one of my stenographers in, so you won't have to call yours. I'll send you a copy, of course.'

Parker looked at Younger, and saw that Younger hadn't thought about a stenographer at all, that Regan had just gone out of his way to insult Younger, and that Younger had caught the insult in the mid-section. But Younger didn't say anything, not a word.

Regan turned to Parker and said, 'As I understand it, you and Mr. Tiftus were in business together.'

Parker shook his head. 'Not me. You've got that wrong.'

'I do?' Regan reached out and patted Parker's wallet, offhandedly, the way another man might doodle. 'That was my understanding,' he said. 'You knew Mr. Tiftus in some other way, then?'

'I'd met him before.'

'Yes, of course.'

'In Miami, at the dog track. He owned a few dogs.'

'Ah, he was in racing. And are you in racing, Mr. Willis?'

'No, I'm in business.'

'Business? May I ask what business?'

'Various businesses. Real estate, parking lots, laundromats, here and there across the country.' Parker pointed at the wallet. 'There's papers on some of it in there.'

But Regan wouldn't give any attention to the wallet. He said, 'Then you and Mr Tiftus didn't come here together.'

'No.'

'It was just coincidence you happened to meet here again.'

Parker shook his head. 'No, it wasn't.'

Regan seemed surprised. 'It wasn't coincidence? You mean you'd planned to meet here?'

'No. I didn't know I'd see him here at all. But I came here for Joe Shardin's funeral, and I guess Tiftus did, too. You meet somebody at the funeral of a guy you both knew, that isn't coincidence.'

Regan turned his head and looked at Younger. 'Shardin?'

'Retired man,' Younger told him. 'Just died a few days ago, buried this morning.'

'Native?'

'Lived here about five years.'

Regan gave his attention back to Parker. 'So you both came here for this man Shardin's funeral.'

'I couldn't say. I know I did, and I figure he did, but I don't know about him for sure.'

'And about his slaying? Do you have any ideas about that?'

Parker shook his head.

Regan nodded, smiled, and said, 'Well, we won't take much longer. I appreciate your co-operation, Mr. Willis.' He nodded some more, and said, 'I'm puzzled. He was killed in your room. Did you give him permission to be in your room?'

'No.'

'Well, do you have any idea what he might have been doing there?'