“Think very carefully,” Sidney Blackpool said. “Did Jack know you sometimes bought meth up there in Solitaire Canyon?”
“I don’t have to think about it. He knew because he went up there with me the second time I scored. He drove me up in his Porsche.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t a doper.”
“He wasn’t! But I begged him to drive me. I told him if he took me just once and loaned me the money for the crystal, like, I’d go to a de-tox center and clean up and never do it no more. Just like every doper says.”
“And that was how long before he died?”
“Maybe three weeks.”
“Did he know you hadn’t cleaned up?” Sidney Blackpool asked.
“He knew but he didn’t wanna know. He pretended to believe me. It was all make-believe, the way we were with each other. Just make-believe.”
“Wait a minute,” Otto said.
“Sir?”
“Nothing. Go ahead with the story,” Otto said.
“That’s the end a my story. I walked from the Watson house in Las Palmas to the gay bar where I left Ken. And we spent the night together. I read about Jack a couple days later.”
“And what’d you think?”
“I thought he must a went looking for me in the Rolls and maybe some biker shot him and drove his car off the canyon. They all have guns. They’re all crazy cranked-out animals!”
“And yet you didn’t call the Palm Springs police?” Otto asked.
“They started investigating the Cobras soon as the kidnapping stuff blew over! And they said on television a few days after Jack died that the F.B.I. was getting outta the case and the bikers were the best bet. What more could I tell them?”
“You coulda told them about the guy you scored from. About Bigfoot. Maybe he went to Bigfoot’s looking for you and got wasted. You coulda told them that,” Otto said.
“I was scared! I didn’t wanna get mixed up in a murder with the Cobras or anybody else!”
“How about the reward?”
“What reward?”
“You didn’t know Mister Watson posted a reward?”
“When?”
“About a week after the body was found. After the F.B.I. pulled out.”
“I was gone then. I went to Miami Beach for a couple months and worked in a hotel. Then I came back to California and got a job in La Jolla. I didn’t hear. How much?”
“Fifty grand,” Otto said.
“Fifty … let’s go!” the kid cried.
“Where?”
“Let’s go inside! I wanna make a statement! I want my name down in the police file! If it’s Bigfoot, I deserve the reward! Let’s go!”
Otto Stringer sat back in the seat and held his throbbing head. Sidney Blackpool just lit a cigarette and stared out the side window at the police parking lot. Terry Kinsale jumped out of the Toyota, anxious to get on the money list. He had lost his fear of Cobras and homicide cops.
“Come here, Terry,” Sidney Blackpool said. “What time was it when you were up in that canyon, where the big black biker scared you off?”
“I don’t know. That was over a year ago.”
“Try to think,” Sidney Blackpool said wearily. “What time did you say your sister’s plane was coming in when you lied to Jack?”
“Ten o’clock. I remember saying ten o’clock.”
“So you got the car at what time then?”
“Maybe nine-fifteen.”
“And you cruised the boulevard and you went to the gay bar and found your marine. How much time did that take?”
“Maybe an hour and a half.”
“What’d you and the marine do then?”
“We sat in the parking lot for a little bit. We decided to score the crystal. I called Bigfoot and didn’t get no answer so …”
“How long did that take?”
“Fifteen minutes maybe.”
“Then what?”
“Then we drove to Mineral Springs.”
“So you got to Mineral Springs about midnight or later?”
“I guess so.”
“You didn’t happen to see a burning Rolls-Royce anywhere off to the left of the canyon when you drove up the hill?”
“You kidding?”
“Okay. So sometime after you left the canyon, Jack Watson was up there looking for you?”
“Maybe.”
“Get back in the car, Terry. I’ll drive you home.”
“I wanna go inside! I wanna make my statement and …”
“I’ll pass it on tomorrow,” Sidney Blackpool said. “Bigfoot didn’t shoot anybody. He was with a very good alibi witness about that time.”
“Who’s that?”
“He was with the big black biker.”
“Maybe they both did it!”
“The black guy reported you to the police a few days after the car was found. You’re pointing at each other. Now get in the car and I’ll take you home.”
The young man walked dejectedly to the Toyota, got in and slammed the door. “I want that reward if those bikers got anything to do with it!” he said. “I wanna start a new life!”
“Don’t we all,” Sidney Blackpool said, starting his engine.
They dropped Terry Kinsale and then drove straight to the hotel to drop Otto who said he hadn’t felt so bad since his second wife got the house and the car.
“Don’t wake me when you come in, Sidney,” Otto said. “Even if it turns out Harry Bright’s ex-wife is the killer and her accomplice is Fiona Grout. Which I might believe right now. This place is even loonier than Hollywood.”
“It’s this case,” Sidney Blackpool said. “This case makes no sense on any level.”
“He didn’t shoot himself, Sidney,” Otto said. “He mighta been real heartsick about his boyfriend two-timing him, but he didn’t shoot himself. You saw the angle a that bullet in the report. And he was right-handed. Forget it if you wanna try’n prove he shot himself.”
“I know,” Sidney Blackpool said. “That leaves us with Coy Brickman and Harry Bright.”
“Sure. Or maybe it was a hitchhiker he picked up when he couldn’t find Terry. And maybe the hitchhiker turned out to be Mister Goodbar Junior, and he shot the kid and dumped the car up there and … I don’t know, Sidney, I gotta go to bed. Lemme outta here.”
“I’ll be awful late by the time I get to Thunderbird,” Sidney Blackpool said. “I better think up a story. See you in the morning.”
As Otto was walking away, he turned suddenly and yelled, “Sidney! Wait a minute. I almost forgot. I got an idea when the kid was telling us about Jack Watson. Maybe this is a nutty idea but …”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Terry said that him and Jack pretended things about each other. That their relationship was make-believe.”
“Yeah?”
“When the Mineral Springs cop was into heat exhaustion he thought the song was ‘Pretend.’ Now he decides it was ‘I Believe.’ I was thinking, you take ‘pretend’-like, the idea of pretend-and then you put it with the ‘believe.’ … Anyways, maybe a delirious guy mightta heard that other old song.”
“ ‘Make Believe’!”
“Yeah.”
“Otto, I told you you’d make a first-rate corpse cop!”
“Maybe we can play the song tomorrow. But on second thought I don’t know if it means anything anyways.”
“I don’t know either, but it’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
“I’m real happy you’re happy. Good night, Sidney.”
“Sleep well, Otto.”
He didn’t get to Thunderbird Country Club until after 9:00 P.M. He stopped at the kiosk and said, “I’m Sam Benton. Having dinner with Mrs. Decker. Did she clear me?”
The guard took his name on a clipboard and said, “Yes, sir. Have a good dinner.”
He parked and went straight to the dining room. “Mrs. Decker?” the hostess said. “She said she’d be waiting in the bar. That was some time ago.”
Next he went to the bar where the barman said, “Yes, I know Mrs. Decker. She was here for over an hour. Sorry, sir.”
Five minutes later he was driving the streets of Thunderbird Country Club. Her car registration had not said Thunderbird Cove or Thunderbird Heights so he figured the street must be around the golf course. There weren’t many streets and he found hers at 9:15 P.M. Two hours after the dinner date, he was ringing her bell, hoping that there wasn’t a maid or housekeeper at home.