“You’ve lied to me, Eve. I don’t know why, but you have. I can’t believe in you completely. But I want to.”
“You’re different,” she said. “There’s a coldness in you.”
“I’m tired and the coldness could be my cold. Did you phone from the hotel to tell your father you weren’t in Palm Springs?”
She nodded. “Why?”
“Tackett might have listened in on that and on your other phone calls. He’s suspicious of you, Eve.”
“He must have known my name was Deering,” she said, “as early as the night you came to the desk and asked for me by that name. That, in itself, might make him suspicious. But you must realize why I had to use another name. You’ve met my father.”
“I know. But what telephone conversations would you have that would increase his suspicion?”
“None,” she said firmly. “Joe, are you matching my honesty against Mr. Tackett’s?”
“I’m trying to get at whatever truth is around,” I answered patiently. “And I’m not succeeding.” I finished my drink and stood up. “You had probably better rest, don’t you think?”
“Don’t be polite,” she said. “If you want to go, go! What’s happened to you? You’re being very unreasonable.”
“Two men are dead. The death of one of them put you into a tailspin. You’ve recovered from that. But two men are still dead, and I’m being paid to find out why.”
She stared at me thoughtfully. “First you were hired to discredit Jeremiah. You tried to use me for that, didn’t you?”
I said evenly, “I don’t remember forcing myself on you, Miss Deering, but perhaps my memory is bad. I was never hired to discredit Jeremiah Adams, only to see if he was legitimate.”
“And what conclusion did you reach?”
“None. His death made further inquiry unnecessary. Because Homicide asked for me, I was then assigned to work with them. Today a sergeant in Homicide double-crossed me. But tomorrow I’ll be right back working with him.”
“Why?”
“Because investigation is my trade, that’s the rational reason. Emotionally, because I hate killers almost as much as the act that makes them killers.”
“And do you think, if I could name a killer, I’d keep that information from you?”
“Probably not,” I admitted. “You’d better get some rest.” I tried to smile. “Thanks for the drink. Good-night.”
I turned to go, and she said, “Joe, believe in me. Please, believe in me!”
“I’m trying. You rest and think and decide if there’s anything I should know that you haven’t told me. I’ll be at home.”
I loved her. I wanted to believe in her. I loved them all. I went out to the waiting Plymouth and saw the ocean fog creeping up the canyon again and pouring out over the road.
On the winding road down, it got worse, and for minutes I drove at a speed slower than a walk. It was a tedious trip home.
And then, to make my day even more wearisome, I saw Deutscher’s car in front of my place. He was waiting for me.
18
HE GREETED ME WITH, “Where’s Tackett?”
“I don’t know. Hiding from you, Ned, wherever he is.”
“Cut it out. You’re not making sense.”
“All I know is what he told me. Now you tell me. Why should he be scared of you?”
“He isn’t. You two are buddy-buddy now, aren’t you? How come he phoned you?”
“He was probably looking for somebody he could trust. Ned, I’m too tired and sick to bicker with you. Every private man in town knows your reputation and I don’t have to tell you it stinks. If you want to let down your hair and tell me who you’re working for, we can trade what we have.”
“You know who I’m working for — Big Jim.”
“That I know, of course. But who else, Ned? Who’s the new client?”
“There’s always one other. I always work for Ned Deutscher, too. And don’t you always work for Puma, too?”
“I’m alive, so that should prove I do. But that isn’t what I meant. Miss Deering get to you, Ned?”
“Man,” he said, “you are sick. And stumbling around in the dark, aren’t you?”
“Right,” I admitted. I opened the door, again. “Another pointless dialogue. I should know better. Skate carefully, Ned. You’re on real thin ice.”
In my messy haven, I made a pitcher of lemonade and sat in my kitchenette, trying to find some pattern of deceit. There are times when lies can show the route to a killer as surely as the facts can.
This wasn’t one of those times. The principals in this case were probably lying for the wrong reasons. Deutscher couldn’t be figured at all. He served too many masters but always wound up serving himself.
I was getting ready to take a hot bath when the phone rang.
It was Griffin. “I got your message and complained to the mayor. There’ll be another of those idiotic conferences in his office tomorrow.”
“Same cast as before?”
“I suppose. Captain MacDarrel complained to the Chief that you were insolent to him.”
I took a deep breath. “I tried not to be. I simply told him Kafke’s action violated the spirit of the cooperation we’d all agreed on.”
“All right, don’t worry about it. Ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
The only change in the cast next morning was the addition of Captain MacDarrel. He was the boss of Homicide and neither he nor Kafke noticed me as I entered the mayor’s office.
The mayor smiled at all of us in his lodge-meeting way and said, “Sam, you were the man who complained about the lack of cooperation. We’ll have your story first.”
Griffin nodded for me to answer.
I gave it to them straight and clean, starting with my call to Kafke’s partner. I omitted my own visit to the bar and the fight.
The mayor nodded solemnly through it all, trying to look judicial and objective, but he didn’t have the face for it.
Then he looked sternly at Kafke. “Now, Sergeant, your version.”
Kafke said, “Mr. Puma’s story is substantially true. It just happens, sir, that Homicide doesn’t make deals with fugitives from a murder charge. So we tapped Puma’s phone and had the call traced while he was talking to Tackett.”
The mayor looked again at me.
I said, “So far as I know, Tackett hasn’t been charged with murder. And I thought the Department frowned on wire tapping.”
The mayor flushed. “I’ll take the responsibility for that. I’ll admit the Chief doesn’t feel as I do about it.”
In his chair, the Chief said nothing, looking infinitely weary.
Kafke said, “Technically, Tackett hasn’t been charged with murder. But if Mr. Puma has a better suspect, I’d like to hear the name.” He didn’t look at me.
“I’ve got five suspects better than that,” I said. “I notice Ned Deutscher hasn’t been brought in for questioning.”
Kafke now turned to look at me levelly. MacDarrel and the mayor looked uncomfortable. The Chief frowned and Griffin shook his head warningly at me.
Before any of them could protest, I said casually, “Even Big Jim Murphy is suspicious of Deutscher now.” I smiled smugly. “Big Jim practically offered me Deutscher’s job.”
The mayor stared at me thoughtfully. Griffin sighed.
The mayor said lamely, “Why do you think this Deutscher should be brought in for questioning?”
I said earnestly, “Because I’m sure he’s doing what he has done before, trying to serve diverse interests in the same case. Last time he got away with it.” I paused, to let that sink in. “That success could have made him overconfident.”
The mayor looked puzzled, but Captain MacDarrel was glaring at me, and I could guess he was one of Deutscher’s friends.
I went whole-hog, then. I suggested, “If Ned Deutscher could be brought in and held incommunicado for a while, it might flush out his other employer.”
MacDarrel looked shocked
and glanced nervously at the Chief. The Chief ignored it, his gaze steadily on me. I thought the mayor was enjoying this. His look was cunning.
He said quietly, “You’re just guessing, of course, that Mr. Deutscher is serving — diverse interests?”
“Yes, sir,” I said seriously, “it’s only a hunch. But it’s a fact that Clyde Tackett, who formerly worked with him, is in hiding simply because of his fear of Deutscher. With Deutscher in jail, Tackett might feel free to come out of hiding.”
Captain MacDarrel said sharply, “That’s ridiculous!”
The mayor smiled and he looked at the Captain closely. He asked the Chief, “Ames, what do you think of it?”
The Chief shrugged. “We haven’t been having any luck with orthodox methods, your honor.”
The mayor looked at Griffin and Griffin said, “It would have to be a Police Department decision.”
There was a pause and the mayor looked thoughtful. I could guess he might be thinking about my new friendship with Big Jim Murphy. Nobody said a word.
The mayor looked at the Chief finally. “Ames, maybe we could bring him in for questioning, and then decide whether to hold him or not?”
“Fair enough,” the Chief said.
Kafke said, “Good idea.”
MacDarrel said, “And let me know, Sergeant, as soon as he is brought in.”
That was the end of the meeting for the lower echelons. The rest of us were dismissed, while the mayor and Griffin and the Chief had a little confab of their own.
I waited in Griffin’s office, gassing with his secretary.
When Griffin came in, he looked at me wonderingly. “You live dangerously, don’t you?”
“I’m sick of all the pussy-footing,” I said. “So I thought it might be time for pressure politics.”
He smiled dimly. “I thought MacDarrel was going to burst a blood vessel. You’ve made a dangerous enemy, Joe.”
I said nothing.
“Do you really think bringing Deutscher in will help us?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But one thing it could do, and that is teach Mr. Ned Deutscher that we’ve got some law in this town. It’s about time he learned that.”
Griffin’s eyebrows lifted. “Personal with you, isn’t it?”
“Too many things,” I agreed. “That’s why I’m so bruised.”
“All right.” He waved a genial dismissal. “Carry on.”
I had used Big Jim’s name to advantage. It seemed politic to run over there and cement our friendship.
He was in the yard behind his rear patio, pitching golf balls into a washtub with a nine-iron.
“Lousiest club in the bag for me,” he explained. “What brings you out here this morning?”
I walked with him over to the shaded section of the patio. There I said, “I’ve been thinking about Deutscher. Is he still working for you?”
“I’m still paying the son-of-a-bitch.” He slumped onto a padded aluminum chaise longue and squinted up at me. “What makes it your business?”
“I just wondered. There’s a possibility Deutscher’s going to be brought in for questioning.”
“Oh?” He studied me for a moment and then nodded toward a stainless steel cabinet built into a barbecue pit wall. “Bring me a beer, will you? Have one yourself, if you want.”
I opened a pair of bottles and brought them back to the chaise longue. I handed him one and sat on an aluminum deck chair nearby.
He swigged and looked out at his autumn flowers. He said, “I have a strange feeling that you’re here to con me. Am I wrong?”
I met his gaze. “You’re wrong.”
He sighed and belched. “All right. Maybe. I won’t put in any beef if Deutscher is picked up. Is that what you wanted to know?”
“Partly.” I sipped the beer.
He said musingly, “You think a lot of that Griffin, don’t you?”
“I admire him very much.”
“And you’re his hatchet-man, I suppose. You work the angles he’s too respectable to play.”
“No,” I said. “I furnish the muscle.”
“And old Deering?” he asked. “Do you admire him, too?”
“No, I certainly don’t. He’s a sick man.”
“Glad to hear it. Nothing curable, I hope?”
“I didn’t mean physically sick. I meant his attitude is sick. You’re not the only man J. D. Deering hates.”
He took another swallow of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. “Oh, he doesn’t bother me. The bastard kept me out of a country club I sure as hell wanted to belong to, but I’m used to that, with my background.”
There was a few seconds’ silence and then I asked, “Have you heard from Clyde Tackett since he disappeared?”
He shook his head.
“What did he tell you that first time I saw him here?”
“He told me Eve Deering was registered at the hotel under the name of Eve Dugan. He told me you had spent some time with her. And he told me she was hot for this crazy cult.”
I sipped my beer. “I hope you didn’t pay much for that kind of information.”
“I didn’t pay anything. Tackett was just brown-nosing around.”
I finished my beer and stood up. “If he should call you, would you steer him to me? Tell him he has less to fear from me than from Deutscher or the police.”
He nodded. “I’ll tell him that.” He smiled up at me. “Get me another beer, will you? I’m old and tired, Joe.”
I went over to get him another bottle. And as I handed it to him, I saw that his eyes were misty. He said quietly, “If you find out who killed Burns, Joe, and bring him to justice, there’ll be a fat check in the mail for you.”
There wasn’t any reason to go over to Adele’s, but it was noon, now, and Brentwood is close to Beverly Hills. And I kept thinking of that superior Donald Major.
The housekeeper told me primly that Miss Griffin was around in back, sunning herself. The day had turned hot. I went around the side of the house to the rear yard.
Adele was lying on a pad in the sun, wearing one of those almost absent suits called a Bikini. I studied her fine body for signs of Major’s violence, but there was none.
“Don’t ogle me,” she said.
“I didn’t come for lunch,” I explained. “Just wondered if you had fun last night.”
“It was wonderful,” she said. “It was magic. He dances even better than you do, Joe.”
“Did you drink?” I asked.
She looked at me coolly. “I don’t remember. Joe, we’re not married and we never will be and I resent this possessive attitude of yours.”
I stared at her.
“Don’t look so shocked,” she said. “I’m not angry, but I think we ought to understand each other.”
“That’s a long-winded way to say good-by, isn’t it?”
“I’m not saying good-by.” She smiled mockingly. “We can still exchange Christmas cards.”
“Fickle,” I said. “If I didn’t have to work all day, I could polish up my dancing, too. I’ll call you.” I turned to go.
“Wait,” she said.
I turned, smug and ready to forgive.
She said, “I almost forgot. That good-for-nothing brother of yours called and asked that you call back if you came here.” She gestured toward the back door. “The housekeeper will let you in.”
“I won’t trouble her,” I said. I turned and went quickly back to my car.
Boy, this Major must be some man. Or maybe someone had told Adele about Eve and the Malibu love nest. Women, women, women. Very unreasonable creatures.
From a Brentwood drugstore, I phoned Deke.
He said, “I hope we’ve got a clean wire. There’s no chance they’d tap mine, is there?”
“None,” I said. “Have you heard from the man we’re waiting to hear from?”
“I sure did. Better come over here.”
“Can’t you tell me what he said over the phone?”
>
“He’d rather tell you himself,” Deke said. “He’s here.”
19
AT DEKE’S APARTMENT, the door was locked and I rang his bell. He came to the door and said, “He’s in the bedroom.”
The dapper little man with the mustache looked mussed and tired. He sat in a red leather chair in the big bedroom and he looked up anxiously as I came in.
“Did you come alone?” he asked.
“I came alone. You were a damned fool to run away, Tackett.”
“Maybe. And maybe not. The in this Deutscher has with the Police Department, I wasn’t taking any chances.”
From the doorway, Deke said, “If you need me, holler.” He closed the door.
I sat on the edge of Deke’s king-sized bed. “What makes you so damned scared of Ned Deutscher? Did he threaten you?”
“No. But I was supposed to meet him there, at that cult on San Vicente. I get there and I find this Adams dead and Deutscher nowhere in sight. And my memory went to work.”
“Your memory?”
“That’s right. I remember that somebody had tried to frame Adams almost the same way for that private detective’s murder. Everything just began to smell fishy all of a sudden.”
“I see. And then, because you were afraid that woman saw you, you decided to go into hiding?”
“Right.”
“Did you see Adams’ killer?”
“No. Unless it was that woman, that witness. She’s the only person I saw around there that night.”
“What business did you and Adams have with Deutscher?”
“Deutscher claimed that he could con Adams into hiring him. He said the guy was loaded and maybe we could get something on him that would be worth even more later.”
“Get what on him?”
Tackett shrugged. “I don’t know. I got a feeling Deutscher had this Adams pegged as a queer. He looked like one.” He shrugged again. “I don’t know — ”
“But why should Adams hire him?”
“For protection, of course. Protection from the police. Deutscher has this in, you know.”
“It’s getting weaker every minute,” I said. “Tackett, you told Scotty you had a favorite suspect. Was it Eve Deering?”
Sweet Wild Wench Page 13
