“Turn off the flood, Mac. I’d like some privacy.”
“Sure!” He was back in a moment, lifting her off her feet. She let him carry her into his tree house and deposit her on the roll away bed, which was made up for the night. “Wait till I turn the radio off.” When he straightened up his head barely missed the ceiling. “And the light.-
“Leave the light.”
“Okay, okay. Aren’t you cold, baby?”
“That’s the only thing you haven’t provided for, Mac. The California nights.”
“Didn’t you know I carry my own central heating? Shove over.”
“Sit down, Mac.”
“Huh?”
“On the floor. I want to talk to you.”
“Didn’t you ever hear of the language of the eyes and so forth?”
“Tonight it has to come out here.” Laurel leaned back on her arms, smiling at him. He was beginning to glower. But then he folded up at her feet and put his head on her knees. Laurel moved him, drew her coat over her legs, and replaced his head.
“All right, then, let it out!”
“Mac,” said Laurel, “why did you hire Ellery Queen?”
He sat still for a moment. Then he reached over to a shelf, got a cigaret, lit it, and leaned back.
“That’s a hell of a question to ask a red-blooded man in a tree house at twelve o’clock at night.”
“Just the same, answer it.”
“What difference does it make? You hired him, Delia hired him, everybody was doing it, so I did it too. Let’s talk about something else. If we’ve got to talk.”
“Sorry. That’s my subject for tonight.”
He encircled his mammoth legs, scowling through the smoke at his bare feet. “Laurel, how long have we known each other?”
“Since we were kids.” She was surprised.
“Grew up together, didn’t we?”
“We certainly did.”
“Have I ever done anything out of line?”
“No,” Laurel laughed softly, “but it’s not because you haven’t tried.”
“Why, you little squirt, I could break you in two and stuff both halves in my pants pocket. Don’t you know I’ve been in love with you ever since I found out where babies come from?”
“Why, Mac,” murmured Laurel. “You’ve never said that to me before. Used that word, I mean.”
“Well, I’ve used it,” he growled. “Now let me hear your side of it.”
“Say it again, Mac?”
“Love! I love you!”
“In that tone of voice?”
She found herself off the bed and on the floor, in his arms. “Damn you,” he whispered, “I love you.”
She stared up at him. “Mac―”
“I love you...”
“Mac, let go of me!” She wriggled out of his arms and jumped to her feet. “I suppose,” she cried, “that’s the reason you hired him! Because you love me, or― or something like that. Mac, what’s the reason? I’ve got to know!”
“Is that all you have to say to a guy who tells you he loves you?”
“The reason, Mac.”
Young Macgowan rolled over on his back and belched smoke. Out of the reek his voice mumbled something ineffectual. Then it stopped. When the smoke cleared, he was lying there with his eyes shut.
“You won’t tell me.”
“Laur, I can’t. It’s got... nothing to do with anything. Just some cockeyed thing of my own.”
Laurel seated herself on the bed again. He was very long, and broad, and brown and muscular and healthy-looking. She took a Dunhill from her coat pocket and lit it with shaky fingers. But when she spoke, she sounded calm. “There are too many mysteries around here, Chesty. I know there’s one about you, and where you’re concerned...”
His eyes opened.
“No, Mac, stay there. I’m not entirely a fool. There’s something behind this tree house and all this learned bratwurst about the end of civilization, and it’s not the hydrogen bomb. Are you just lazy? Or is it a new thrill for some of your studio girls ― the ones who want life with a little extra something they can’t get in a motel?” He flushed, but his mouth continued sullen. “All right, we’ll let that go. Now about this love business.”
She put her hand in his curly hair, gripping. He looked up at her thoroughly startled. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
“That’s for thanks. You’re such a beautiful man, Mac... you see, a girl has her secrets, too― No! Mac, no. If we ever get together, it’s got to be in a clean house. On the ground. Anyway, I have no time for love now.”
“No time!”
“Darling, something’s happening, and it’s ugly. There’s never been any ugliness in my life before... that I can remember, that is. And he was so wonderful to me. The only way I can pay him back is by finding whoever murdered him and seeing him die. How stupid does that sound? And maybe I’m kind of bloodthirsty myself. But it’s all in the world I’m interested in right now. If the law gets him, fine. But if...”
“For God’s sake!” Crowe scrambled to his feet, his face bilious. A short-nosed little automatic had materialized in Laurel’s hand and it was pointing absently at his navel.
“If they don’t, I’ll find him myself. And when I do, Mac, I’ll shoot him as dead as that dog. If they send me to the gas chamber for it.”
“Laurel, put that blamed thing back in your pocket!”
“No matter who it is.” Her green, brown-flecked eyes were bright.
The gun did not move. “Even if it turned out to be you, Mac. Even if we were married ― had a baby. If I found out it was you, Mac, I’d kill you, too.”
“And I thought Roger was tough.” Macgowan stared at her. “Well, if you find out it was me, it’ll serve me right. But until you do―”
Laurel cried out. The gun was in his hand. He turned it over curiously.
“Nasty little beanshooter. Until you do, Red, don’t let anybody take this away from you,” and he dropped it politely into her pocket, picked her up, and sat down on the bed with her.
A little later Laurel was saying faintly, “Mac, I didn’t come here for this.”
“Surprise.”
“Mac, what do you think of Ellery Queen?”
“I think he’s got a case on Ma,” said the giant. “Do we have to talk?”
“How acute of you. I think he has, too. But that’s not what I meant. I meant professionally.”
“Oh, he’s a nice enough guy...”
“Mac!”
“Okay, okay.” He got u.p sullenly, dumping her. “If he’s half as good as his rep―”
“That’s just it. Is he?”
“Is he what? What are we talking about?” He poured himself a drink.
“Is he even half as good?”
“How should I know? You want one?”
“No. I’ve dropped in on him twice and phoned him I don’t know how many times in the past couple of days, and he’s always there. Sitting in his crow’s nest, smoking and scanning the horizon.”
“Land ho. It’s a way of life, Laurel.” Macgowan tossed it off and made a face. “That’s the way these big-shot dicks work sometimes. It’s all up here.”
“Well, I’d like to see a little activity on the other end.” Laurel jumped up suddenly. “Mac, I can’t stand this doing nothing. How about you and me taking a crack at it? On our own?”
“Taking a crack at what?”
“At what he ought to be doing.”
“Detecting?” The big fellow was incredulous.
“I don’t care what you call it. Hunting for facts, if that sounds less movie-ish. Anything that will get somewhere.”
“Red Hill, Lady Dick, and Her Muscle Man,” said young Macgowan, touching the ceiling with both hands. “You know? It appeals to me.”
Laurel looked up at him coldly. “I’m not gagging, Mac.”