Bring Back Her Body (11 page)

“And do you think it’s absurd?”

“No,” Wilson said. “Not in the least.” He got up, nodded to Bergen who closed his notebook and stood, and they walked away together. Wilson turned and called back:

“Don’t go away, Cain.”

He wouldn’t, Cain thought, not unless they came and took him away.

CAIN
ate a sandwich and drank a glass of milk and headed for town. He thought of calling Lisa for information and decided against it. The idea of what she had done still bothered him. In a way he did not blame her, knowing as he did now that Toby had been blackmailing her. But he thought of the easy way she had euchered him into taking her to the farm instead of letting him go to Munger’s, and his pride was hurt.

He was ambling along at a conservative thirty-five when the realization hit him. He slowed the car, causing horns to honk from behind. Cain signaled and then pulled onto the wide gravel shoulder of the road and stopped.

Lisa had told him that she had received an order to get him to the farm last night and that she had got that order when she had gone for a walk in the afternoon. But Wilson had pointed out to Cain that Toby had been killed sometime the night before. Which meant, Cain thought, that she had either called Toby via a spirit telephone or had taken the order from someone else.

The whole thing made Cain a little ill. He didn’t like any of it. He liked it less because when he thought of Lisa, he remembered the nice things about her. But the more he thought of it, the madder he became. He drove on again and by the time he reached town he was ready to bid for a box seat at her hanging.

He thought, Who else could have given her an order like that? And there was only one sensible answer: Karl Munger.

But why? What good did it do Munger to have Cain go out to the farm?

Cain pushed it aside temporarily. Stopping at a drugstore, he copied the addresses of Curtin and Smathers from the phone book. He was surprised to find Curtin at home, sober, and looking the worse for wear. Cain suspected the police had given him a psychological working over as rough as the physical one he had had the night before. He did not look happy to see Cain.

He stood in the doorway, blocking the entry way. “I don’t want to see you.”

“You’re going to,” Cain said. He saw Curtin’s eyes become ugly. Reaching out a hand, Cain tapped Curtin on the chest and, as Curtin recoiled, Cain stepped forward, slapping Curtin aside with his shoulder and kicking the door shut with his foot.

“Don’t get excited,” he said. “This isn’t my idea of fun.”

“Now look here, Cain …”

“Stow it!”

Curtin went sulkily into his living room and Cain followed. The place was untidy but beneath the litter Cain could see the signs of wealth in the furnishings, in the bric-a-brac about. There was also an expensive-looking bar at one side of the room and Curtin made a bee-line for it. He gulped a drink straight, then mixed one and sat down with it.

“I’ve told the police all I know, Cain.”

“I’m not the police. I’m just a poor boy trying to get out of a murder charge. Between you and the others, Lisa and I are being crucified. I think it’s deliberate. I want to know why.”

“I haven’t anything against you.”

Cain lit a cigarette. “Maybe not. But you might have something
for
me. Information, perhaps. What was Toby blackmailing you about?”

Curtin didn’t blink. “My business, sorry.”

“The police will find the stuff,” Cain said. He didn’t know what he was talking about but he knew that if he acted that way to Curtin, he would get nowhere.

Curtin said, as if Cain knew all about it, “Wilson thinks he can hush it as long as I can’t be prosecuted.”

“If Toby was foolish enough to let you get your hands on the stuff,” Cain said, “you’d have a good motive for killing him. You, or the doctor, or Smathers, or the women.”

Curtin looked less pallid with liquor working on him. He lit a cigarette with fairly steady hands. “Toby wasn’t that foolish,” Curtin said. “And why should I kill him anyway? I worked for him. It was good money.”

“You didn’t need it.”

“Sometimes,” Curtin said. He seemed easier now, more amenable. “And not what you’re thinking. None of us paid Toby money. That’s the truth, Cain. We did a lot of things for him for free but we never gave him money. Toby liked the power his knowledge gave him, I suppose. And he always had money enough.”

He blurted it out. As if, Cain thought, it would get things over and he, Cain, would go away. Cain accepted what Curtin said but he didn’t like it. Too many things were left unexplained, and some were left even more hopeless of explanation than before.

Cain said, “I want to hear about the night Paula disappeared.”

Curtin looked almost eager. He said, “We were on the farm. Paula was pretty drunk and she kept saying something about Munger cheating her. Toby kept trying to shut her up and finally he slapped her. She got vicious then and said she was going to see Munger and walked out. Toby took after her. He came back alone and the party went on.”

“Then what?”

“That’s all. I suppose I went home. At least I woke up here. I didn’t even hear from Toby for five or six days.”

“And when you did?” Cain prompted.

“He called and told me to fly to San Francisco and get some stuff for him. I did. Then he called me day before yesterday and said we were having a party. We met at Pepe’s.”

“Why Pepe’s?”

“I suppose because it’s one of Munger’s places. Toby gets what he wants there.”

“And you didn’t see Paula in all this time?”

“No,” Curtin said.

“Or wonder where she was?”

“If I thought about it at all, I imagine I figured she was at her place on Whidby.”

Cain said, “Now what happened after I left the farm with Lisa?”

Curtin smiled ruefully. “I was pretty groggy but I remember somebody bringing me a drink — and that’s all until daylight.”

“Who was up and around enough to give you a drink?”

“One of the girls. Larson said, ‘Ah, Hebe, the cupbearer to the gods!’ I remember. Then I passed out.”

“Who is Larson?”

“The doctor,” Curtin said.

“Which girl?” Cain asked.

“How would I know? She had one of those crazy masks over her face.”

“And what happened after you woke up?”

“It was early daylight,” Curtin said. “I staggered back to the house to go to bed. Only Toby’s door was open and I could see and hear him asleep in there so I sneaked out and went home.”

“Sneaked?”

“Toby wakes easily and in the morning he’s mean,” Curtin said. He grimaced. “And after what happened to him, he would have been vicious. I went home.”

“You were alone?”

“When I woke up no one was there. The coffin was gone and I thought everyone had left. I guess they had since my car and Toby’s were the only ones there.”

“Have you heard anything from the others since? What happened to them?”

Curtin looked weary of answering questions but he said, “I know that Annie was out for two days. Whatever was in those flasks was murder. Everyone was in bad shape for a while.”

“I see,” Cain murmured. He said, “Give me Larson’s address and I’ll take off.”

He got it and drove next to the Smathers’ as it was closer. There was no one in. He tried the doctor’s place and a maid said that he had gone out. He had walked. So Cain walked too, and he found Larson seated alone in a small neighborhood bar getting himself thoroughly drunk. Cain sat down and started talking. He got substantially the same story Curtin had given up to the point where the doctor had wakened.

“It was dark when I woke up,” he said. “Just turning gray. I stumbled around for a while and everyone was lying on the ground out. It was a hell of a mess. I looked for the coffin but it was gone so I figured Toby had got out.”

“What about the wax dummy of Paula?”

“Gone, too, I suppose. I didn’t think about it to tell the truth.” He smiled ruefully, the smile slightly sideways. “But the police haven’t found it, I understand.”

“So?”

“So I felt my way to the house and by then it was day-lightish. I saw Toby asleep in his bed and decided to go back and warn the others. If we woke him after what you did to him, there would have been hell to pay.”

“He was alive at daylight?”

“I guess he was. He breathed. I was wishing I couldn’t.”

“Then?”

“I went downstairs and got some buckets and lugged them back. I woke Norene and Anne and then Smathers started coming around. He got his wife up, but he couldn’t wake Curtin so we left him. We all went home, that’s all.”

Cain said, “What happens if the police find the blackmail stuff Toby had on you?”

“Blackmail?”

“Don’t tell me a respectable physician is going to hell this way without a reason.”

Larson tried to look belligerent and then gulped his drink and ordered another. “I’m done, that’s all.”

“Abortion?”

“Yes.”

“She die?”

“No. Toby took care of her by flying her to California to a hospital.”

“Then what happened?”

The doctor laughed mirthlessly. “He sold her to Munger.”

“For God’s sake, man!”

“No. She was attractive to men. She still is. Munger uses her as a come-on.” Cain looked at him. The man was miserable for more reasons than one.

“Anne?”

Larson nodded and reached for the drink as it was brought to him. “Anne.”

“Messy,” Cain said. “So she keeps tabs on you for them — and you’ve fallen for her. You’re sweating in two ways.”

“It’s not your goddamned business!”

“It would give you good reason to kill Toby while he was out in that coffin.”

“I didn’t. I wouldn’t until I got my hands on the stuff he has on me.”

“Maybe,” Cain said. “Who brought you the drink after the fight?”

“I think it was Smathers’ wife. She looked about her size.”

Cain nodded. “How long since you’ve seen Paula?”

“The night she disappeared.”

He gave the same report as Curtin. Cain got up. “What has Toby on Lisa?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Larson said. “But she hopped when he cracked the whip.”

“Until the other night.”

Larson’s smile was half hidden but obvious. So they all knew, Cain thought. They all knew he had been taken for a ride, suckered. And it was funny because Cain was noted for disliking women. That made it twice as funny. Funnier than hell. Cain sat down.

“How did you know?”

Larson worked on his drink and shrugged. Cain leaned over and grabbed a handful of coatfront.
“How did you know?”

Larson pushed at Cain’s hand. His own was clammy. “What difference does it make whether or not I tell you?” he said as if to himself. “When you and Honor came into Pepe’s, Toby told Lisa: quote, ‘Latch on to Cain and see how far you get.’ She said something and he said, ‘That’s an order.’ That’s all.”

Cain said, “I see.” So they didn’t know what she was ordered to do actually. They would all have taken it as a joke — as something amusing. But, Cain thought, to Lisa it had meant more than that, more than the funny business of a woman trying to get next to a man who was known as a misogynist. To Lisa it meant finding out how far Cain had got in the Paula affair. So Lisa had had previous orders from Toby, that was obvious. The fact that the eviction notice had been prepared in advance was proof enough.

But why was Toby so interested? Had Munger put him up to it? That was hardly Munger’s way. His way would be to let Cain amble along and keep an eye on him, then call him in and rough him up to get information. Yet Munger hadn’t wanted him to do anything. He had wanted him just to drop the whole thing. If he had given Toby orders, would he have then visited Cain as he had?

Cain didn’t get it. There seemed more to Toby than he had first thought. He said now, “Did Toby ever make passes at you?”

“No.” Larson sounded quite unsurprised. “Nor at any of the others — men or women — I’m sure.” “He didn’t like women.”

“No. But he liked to see other men make fools of themselves over women. He’d laugh because he didn’t have to.”

“He must have had a boy friend then,” Cain probed.

“I suppose so.”

Cain saw Larson’s eyes slide from his face and peer into the glass. He said quickly, “Who?”

“How would I know?”

“You do know,” Cain said. “What difference does it make now? Who?”

“Go to hell,” Larson said thickly.

Cain said, “Maybe I should go to the cops and tell them about the abortion deal.”

“Go ahead. They’ll find out sooner or later.”

Cain could see that he was frightened. He continued, “You’re hoping they won’t find out, though. But if I tell them they can work on Anne and check the California hospital she was in — they can build a case if they have something to start on.”

Larson looked as if he wanted to hit Cain. He rose in the booth and leaned forward, one arm lifted, his face inches from Cain’s. Cain just looked at him. Suddenly, Larson dropped back into the seat, trembling. He began to cry.

“Leave me alone. I’ve paid for that. Damn it, leave me alone.”

“Who, Doctor?”

Larson gulped some more of his drink and lifted his hand for another. “It’s just rumor. What difference could it make?”

Cain’s voice was low and cold. “Who?”

Larson said, “Munger.”

Cain stood up and laughed in his face and walked out.

CAIN
was nearly back to the Smathers’ house when he started to laugh again and the laughter froze in his throat. Munger? Karl Munger of the tweeds and the pipe and the excessive masculinity?

Why not Munger? Who was the psychologist who had said not to worry about the boys who wore lace? The dangerous ones looked and acted like truck drivers. And sometimes were.

Cain sucked in his breath, “Damn!”

He drove faster now, skidding to a stop and half running up the steps of the house when he saw the light in the living room. His ring brought slow steps and the door opened. He saw Smathers’ wife. She looked harrassed and weary. She just stared at Cain.

“I’m looking for Mr. Smathers.”

“He isn’t in. His office …”

Cain said, “I’m Cain,” because obviously she didn’t remember him. “If he isn’t here I’ll talk to you.”

“Cain — the one who hit Toby — I remember now,” she said. She smiled at him. “I wish I’d been sober enough to remember it clearly.”

“I want to talk to you,” Cain repeated.

He saw speculation come into her eyes as she surveyed him. He thought, Oh God, another one. And he wondered why some women seemed to think he was a challenge to their sex simply because he had the reputation of not chasing after them.

“Come in, Cain.”

He went. Her living room was big and was obviously made for entertaining. She went on through it to a smaller room, a more homelike place with books and a fireplace and a sewing machine open with a partly finished dress on it. There was a chaise longue looking out of place but comfortable and she sat down. Cain remained standing.

“Drink?”

“Have one,” he said. “You look bushed.”

She got up, showing him that her stockings ended a little way above her knee. He was not impressed. She made herself a drink and came back. “Cops, questions — what a mess.”

“And worry about what they’ll find at Toby’s, I suppose?”

Her breath went in sharply. She hadn’t been expecting it. She tried to look blank but it was a miserable job. She wasn’t a bad-looking woman, Cain noticed. A little short for his taste and too much uplift and too much effort expended to hide thirty-odd years. She had very dark hair and young-looking features. If she hadn’t spent so much time with Toby Patton’s gang, she wouldn’t have needed the effort, he thought.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

He went through his routine questions and the answers seemed to tally with the others he had got. “What did Toby have on you?”

“Nothing. Should he have?”

“On your husband?”

“If anything, why should I tell you?”

“Where is Smathers now?”

“I don’t know. Out.”

She said it too quickly, too flatly. Cain let it ride for the moment. He said, “With another woman?”

“George?” She laughed. “Hardly. George wouldn’t bother with another woman. He doesn’t have to.”

“You’re a perfect couple then?”

“Even at Patton’s parties,” she said mockingly. The drink seemed to give her a lift and now she stood up, stretching a little to remind him that she had a figure, and took a cigarette from a nearby table. “Lovebirds, that’s us.”

“You disappoint me,” Cain murmured.

Her eyes squinted almost closed and she looked at him steadily through the cigarette smoke. “I’d hate to do that.”

Cain went close to her. He took her cigarette and put it to his lips and took a long drag and then set it in the ashtray. He took the drink from her hand and set it on the table. He ran his hand behind her head, ruffling the hair at the base of her neck. She stood very still, her lips slightly parted, her eyes half shut.

Cain ran his other hand behind her back, catching her right wrist as he did so and caressing it gently. Then with no apparent hurry, his fingers closed down tight on her neck and he brought her arm up her back, turned her and she was face down on the chaise longue. He kept the arm up her back, put a knee on her buttocks.

“Where is your husband?”

She tried to get loose but the position was easy for Cain to maintain. A little leverage, a little pressure — she began to kick her legs. She twisted her head and tried to bite him. He dug his fingers into her neck and she whimpered and stopped.

“Where is Smathers?”

“I don’t know. You’re hurting me!”

“I intend to. Where is Smathers?”

“Are you proud, Cain, picking on a woman?”

“Save that,” he said. “The kind that mess around with Toby Patton are all the same to me: man, woman or neuter. Where is Smathers?”

She made no sound at all. Cain raised her arm a little causing her to gasp. “I’ll count to ten. On ten it will break.”

“I don’t know.”

“One … two …” She gasped again. “Three …” One more notch. He could feel her buttocks writhe with the pain. She gave a convulsive heave as he said, “Four. Don’t do that. It hurts worse that way.”

“Five …” Cain said. “Six …” She began to cry.

“At Toby’s place.”

Cain released a little pressure and she whimpered in relief. “Looking for the stuff?”

“Yes.”

“What had Toby on him? On you?”

“What would be the point in getting and destroying it if he told you?” She talked jerkily, gasping.

“I’d have no proof. I just want to know if it’s enough to cause you to kill.”

“We didn’t. I swear it. It’s just …”

Cain said, “Six again and seven,” and felt another gasp tear out of her.

“Just a legal affair.”

Smathers, Cain knew, was a prominent civil lawyer. He said, “Munger’s enterprises.”

“Yes.”

“That’s messy,” Cain said. He didn’t let her up. “Is he Toby’s lawyer, too?” “Yes.”

Cain let her up. She lay where she was a moment and then rolled over and sat up, letting her dress ride up her thighs and making no attempt to pull it down.

“Thanks,” he said. Before she could answer he turned and left the room.

• • •

It didn’t take him long to get to Toby’s place. He parked in the rear and eased his way up the service steps. The back door was ajar very slightly and he paused there, getting his breath and listening. It was dark inside; the shades were all drawn.

He heard soft rustlings coming from somewhere up front. He eased himself in and unlimbered his flashlight. He was sweating. A man like Smathers might go off half cocked and if he had a gun …

Cain moved as if he were trailing a deer in a forest. He saw the guarded, tiny light when he was in the hallway and he eased through the door. The light was travelling along a big, modernistic bed, the kind with a fancy headboard that had shelves and contained books, a clock, a telephone. Toby’s, no doubt.

Cain said, “Smathers!” and shot his light in the man’s face.

The flashlight dropped from Smathers’ hand and he made a gibbering sound before the fear went out of him. By then it was too late. Cain had his hands on the man. He felt him wrench and he put a knee in his back and pulled. Smathers held still.

“Just want a word with you,” Cain said.

With the light on, Smathers seemed better. He stared at Cain until his shaking went away. “That was a hell of a trick. What do you want?”

“Some answers.”

“How did you know I was here.”

“Your wife,” Cain said. “I made her tell where you were.”

“That telephone. It’s been ringing steadily. That was her then.” He shrugged at his bad luck. “Why me?” he asked.

“You’re Toby’s lawyer. Munger’s lawyer. I don’t expect you to reveal professional secrets without some persuasion. If you talk nice and fast things will go nicely.”

“The police …”

“You’d call them, Smathers? Would you?”

Smathers called him a few names. Cain smiled politely until he was done. Smathers said, “What do you want to know?”

“Toby’s business. Munger’s business. What took Toby away for the first week after Paula disappeared.”

Smathers laughed. It was almost an hysterical sound. It gushed out of him and turned to a giggle and he stopped suddenly. “Sure, why not? What the hell’s it to me? If I can find the stuff, my wife and I are fine: free of Toby Patton. Free of you too, maybe. I’ll tell you.” He got up. He talked quickly, jerkily.

“Toby and Munger are — partners in a way. Only Toby’s the head man. Was the head man. Munger is his front.”

“And his boy friend?”

“Yes,” Smathers said. “How did you find that out?” “Go on.”

“Toby is — was the one with the brains. Munger is more imposing for a figurehead. He did everything on Toby’s orders. Everything is in Munger’s name but Toby has a protection. Munger has everything signed over on a long-term note. Toby could squeeze down any time if Munger got greedy. However, Munger’s smart enough to know he couldn’t go it alone.”

“You’re sure of that? Maybe Munger got tired of playing second fiddle. If everyone thought he was the top man …”

“Could be,” Smathers said. “Yes, it could well be. Munger has the men.” He stopped and looked toward the window. “But the way it was done — I don’t know. Anyway, that’s the set-up.”

“Where does Paula come in? Why would Munger — or Toby — be so interested in keeping her … disappeared. Why try to stop me?”

“This is strictly under the table,” Smathers said. “It’s tied up so you can’t prove it very easily.”

“Unless I need to I won’t even remember it.”

“Paula put up the money in the first place for Toby to expand. He and Munger were a one-arm gambling joint. She put up the cash. They expanded. They even have some legitimate enterprises. Like logging.”

Cain sucked in his breath. He said hesitantly, “You mean Paula is bucking her old man?”

“Through a dummy outfit, yes. You know that he uses old-fashioned methods. The deal is all set up. He can save himself by selling out. He’s got the offer. He can get enough to sit back and retire and let Honor play astronomer. But if he tries to fight — he’s licked. He needs Paula’s vote to sell. If he doesn’t get it then her dummy outfit will squeeze him and break him and she’ll have it all.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Cain said. “She still wouldn’t have to hide out for all that time.”

“Ryerson knows. He’s had detectives. He knows. If he gets his hands on her, he’ll kill her.”

“Bring back her body,” Cain remembered him saying.

“So she’s hiding from her own father.”

“They hate each other. It’s just one more week. I have the papers all ready.”

“How does Toby’s death affect this?”

Smathers laughed again. “That’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t, — in the long run. Paula owns the works now: Munger and all. Under community property law, she’s the top man.”

Cain said, “I don’t follow you. She isn’t married to Toby.”

“She was, until he died. That’s where he was that week after she disappeared. When she went roaring off to Munger’s about some deal she thought he’d cheated her on, Toby called Munger and had her held. He went and talked to her and Paula let herself be persuaded into marrying him. That gave Toby a big hold on her. He kept her away for a week and then she got loose and headed for her sanctuary.”

“You mean if he had killed her he was the boss man under community property.”

“Certainly. But he didn’t dare. Not until the lumber deal was finished. The way it would work if Paula were found dead Ryerson would get her proxy by court order and leave Toby in the cold. Then there might be an investigation if Toby tried to contest it. So to keep her from crossing him, he held her.”

“How did she get talked into marrying him in the first place?”

“Drunk, I suppose. They flew to Nevada. Toby could be persuasive.”

“I’m damned,” Cain said.

“If only I can get my stuff from Toby. I went over this place a half-dozen times,” Smathers said. “But so did everyone else, including the police. No soap.”

“I have one more question,” Cain said. “Are you Paula’s attorney, too?”

“Only insofar as her and Toby’s business affairs are concerned,” Smathers said.

That was that. Cain nodded and Smathers quickly left, not looking back once. Cain soon followed him out of the house. Quickly he entered his car and drove off. He stopped at a drugstore and called Ryerson’s. He got Honor on the telephone. “Listen. I have a message for your sister. Get it to her fast. Okay?”

“Shoot.” She sounded excited. It was like living a book to her, Cain thought.

“Tell Paula that if someone finds the stuff before she can get it, hell will pop. Got that?”

Honor said, “Yes.”

“Tell her that if the police or the others get it, they won’t be afraid to talk any longer.”

“What stuff?”

“Later,” Cain said. “Get the message through and then get your glad rags on. We’re going stepping.”

“Oh-h, Cain! But what about Lisa?”

Cain had an idea. He said carefully, “Send Lisa with the message.” He laughed to himself. “See you in forty minutes.”

“Hurry, Cain. I’m practically dressed already.”

He could imagine. Hanging up, he went slowly back to his car. Munger, he thought, wasn’t going to like him much longer. Maybe he wouldn’t even tolerate him.