Bring Back Her Body (12 page)

CAIN
chewed on it all the way out to his place, even while he dressed and drove to Ryerson’s. Much of what he had learned didn’t seem to make sense. And insofar as helping him clear up the murder, he was worse off than before.

He grinned sourly to himself as he knotted his black tie. Toby Patton could have been killed for a number of reasons; a lot of people, in fact, seemed to have ample justification for sticking that knife into him. Cain ticked them off on his fingers: Curtin and Smathers and Larson, certainly. Only Smathers wasn’t such a good bet — not if a sizable piece of his income came from Toby’s business properties. And after them there was Lisa, but Cain couldn’t quite figure out when she would have had the time.

And Honor? How much did Honor know of her sister’s business enterprises. She had been very loyal to Paula throughout and she had been in close contact with her. And maybe, in one of her “helpful” moments she had got the idea that Toby Patton needed killing. Maybe she had learned that Toby was behind her father’s potential ruin.

Cain let it go. He hadn’t enough facts yet. He thought about Paula Ryerson, as elusive as a will-o-the-wisp as far as he was concerned, though everyone else seemed able to get in touch with her. Paula was married to Toby Patton: Point one. Paula was a full partner in the ugly, nasty enterprises that Munger fronted for: Point two. Paula was out to cut her father’s throat because of a mutual hatred, and yet she had to hide out because she was afraid of him and his power: Point three. If Paula had killed Toby, what could she have gained? Cain shook his head and struggled into his tuxedo coat. Not much more than Toby would have gained if he had killed
her
too soon.

And then there was Munger. Cain made a face at himself as he smoothed down a lapel. There was always Munger. He had been acting a part and doing it so well that few people suspected he wasn’t the ruthless man he portrayed. But maybe he was now. Maybe the part had taken over Munger: maybe he wanted to be the big boy in fact as well as name.

Cain sputtered the little coupe to Ryerson’s and walked slowly onto the broad porch. And maybe there was a motive he didn’t yet know about. Maybe there was someone he hadn’t taken into consideration. Like Theodore Ryerson himself.

Cain rang the bell. Thomas answered suavely. Cain said, “Will you tell Honor I’ll be with her father for a few moments?”

“Yes, sir.” Thomas escorted him into the study where the old man was hunched over the fire.

Cain nodded to Ryerson and sat down. “I’m taking your daughter to Munger’s. We’ll spend some of your expense money.”

“Honor will like that. It’s her birthday.”

Cain let it go by. “The police were over to see me.”

“I expected it. They were here. Very cooperative.”

Cain waited a moment but the old man added nothing more. He said, “I understand that Paula won’t come home because she’s afraid you’ll kill her.”

The bright eyes set in the dry, stretched face looked squarely at him. “That would depend on whether I could get away with it.”

Cain studied his nails. They were clean. “Why? Not just because you hated her mother and hate Paula for looking like her.”

Ryerson studied him intently. “How much do you know, Cain?”

“More than you want me to know.”

“You know of her connection with Munger then?”

“With Munger and other things.”

Ryerson accepted it with a nod. He took a brandy snifter from a table beside him and warmed the glass bowl in his hands. “Paula has been working toward this for years. Very cleverly. I knew almost nothing about it until recently. The detective I told you about uncovered a number of things. And when they led him to Munger, he quit.”

“Naturally,” Cain said. “But if you kill her the whole thing would tie up in litigation.”

“Not if it were made to look like accidental death. Then the court would favor me, give me her proxy.” He sounded dryly academic.

“Then you didn’t want to find her in order to have her vote with you next Saturdey. You knew she wouldn’t do that. You wanted to have her found so you could figure some way of disposing of her.”

“You might put it that way.”

Cain laughed. “In other words, I’ve been hired as a sort of executioner. Or the executioner’s assistant.”

“Your skirts would be clean.”

“Thanks,” Cain said. “Of course, the whole thing wouldn’t have done you a bit of good as long as Toby Patton was alive.”

The fingers tightened on the brandy glass. There was a long silence as if Ryerson were mentally weighing things. He said finally, “No?”

Did he or did he not know of the marriage? Cain couldn’t be sure; the old man had lied to him before with consummate skill. He said, “They were partners.”

“Not insofar as my affairs are concerned.”

Cain still didn’t have the answer. And it was too beautiful a proposition to let go: Ryerson had Toby killed because he knew of the marriage. That eliminated Toby as Paula’s heir when and if the old man could have her disposed of.

“She was married to Toby Patton.”

“I didn’t know.”

Didn’t he? Ryerson added, “That makes the task much simpler, then. But the time is short. I’ll have to ask you to hurry.”

Cain stood up. “I can find her any time I wish. Getting her here is another matter. I don’t think I want to do that now. As crummy as she is, as much as she makes my skin crawl, I don’t think I want to lead her to death.” He paused. “Of course, you dare not have her killed now. I could testify.”

“Come, Cain, did you think I’d be so crude about it?”

Cain stayed where he was. “How much does Honor know of Paula’s business affairs?”

“As far as I know, practically nothing.”

“Honor is very loyal to Paula,” Cain said. “Very close.” He saw the old man’s cautious nod. “I think I can hang Toby’s killing on her, Ryerson.”

The old man sniffed his brandy. “On Paula? Excellent.”

“On Honor.”

The silence was long. The old man set down his glass finally and leaned forward. “Cain,” he said, his dry voice a bare, soft rustle, “I’d spend every million I’ve got to hound you into hell if you did that, if you even hinted it to the police.”

Cain kept his smile to himself. So this old devil loved the kid. Cain could see the anguish on his face at the mere idea. He had been careless of her, trusting in her, but he was proud of her, and loved her deeply. Very few men were wholly evil. But Cain gave the one in front of him a corner on much of it. His love for her, of course, Cain reasoned, was because she reflected him: her genius, her attractiveness; her youth was all he had left of living.

“I just wanted you to know, Ryerson,” Cain said, “that the record of what I’ve said is written and in a safe place. If anything should happen to me, it would find its way to Wilson,” he lied blandly.

“You’re very clever, Cain. It’s a natural assumption that I couldn’t let you live if I managed to kill Paula. Very natural.”

“Now we know where we stand,” Cain said. “But I’m still going to spend some of your money on Honor tonight.”

“She’ll like that, Cain. She asked me tonight if she could marry you.”

Cain said stupidly, “That’s nice.”

“I told her yes, of course. And if I can get rid of my enterprises as planned there’ll be a good cash settlement. A handsome one.”

“Thanks,” Cain said. “Still buying and selling, Ryerson. A son-in-law with wealth at his fingertips would hardly turn you in.”

“I’ll die in a few years. You can wait that long.”

“I tried to explain: I’m quitting.”

“My offer still stands, Cain. Bring her back — dead or alive.”

Cain stalked out of the room. Honor was coming slowly down the stairs in a nicely-timed entrance. He felt his disgust evaporate. She looked very nice, very fine indeed. She was so young and so pathetically eager to learn things and do things, to absorb all of what she thought of as fun in life in a hurry — as if, Cain thought, she knew that it couldn’t last.

He said, taking her hands, “You’re terrific.”

“Why, Cain! How nice.”

He couldn’t see how her costume stayed on. It was a rich blue dress with a full-length skirt suspended by, what seemed to him, a couple of scraps of cloth. There was no back, no shoulders and very little front.

“Anti-gravitational device?” he asked, handing her into her Buick.

She laughed. “The same as.” She watched him slide under the wheel. “And all I have to do is give a good twitch and it’s off.”

“Uhm.” What did one say? “Happy birthday, Honor.”

She adjusted her fur wrap more closely about her. “Thank you. But is this business or my birthday present?”

“Both,” Cain said. “Business first. Did you get the message off to Paula?”

“Lisa carried the message to Garcia,” Honor giggled. “I rang Paula and she said for Lisa to come on. She took the runabout over to Whidby.”

“The police talked to Lisa, I gather.”

Honor fished cigarettes from Cain’s coat pocket and lit two as she had seen Lisa do. She slipped one between Cain’s lips. “They were at the dock when she arrived. She was very clever, though. She swore you slept all the time you were together.”

“And I told Wilson we hadn’t,” Cain said.

Honor only sniffed. Cain said, glad to be off the subject, “Did Wilson question you?”

“A little. I just said I teased you into taking me to Pepe’s. And that was all I knew. He believed me, I guess.”

“Don’t trust Wilson,” Cain said, “to believe anything. But I don’t imagine he’ll bother you.”

They were silent for a while. Then Honor ventured, “Cain do you know what Daddy gave me for my birthday?”

“Me, probably.”

“Oh, you know! He said I could have anything I wanted and I asked for you.”

“Why?” Cain asked sincerely. “Why me?”

“We could build an awfully cute place on a mountain, Cain. With a telescope and everything when all the money comes in.”

“I’m no astronomer.”

“But you’re smart and a good navigator. You could learn so you could take over while I’m having babies and we could make all sorts of scientific discoveries and …” She ran out of breath and stopped.

This was all too close to the way one part of Cain would have liked it. The other part wondered how he had ever got tangled up in all this. But she was obviously serious.

He asked in a faint voice, “Where do you get this mountain?”

“Daddy said tonight I can have one for a present as soon as I find one I want. It’ll be down in Arizona. He said I might not get you right away so he’ll give me that too.”

Cain was silent. He began to understand Honor a bit more. Anyone, reared as Honor had been, able to have anything up to and including a whole mountain as a birthday gift, would hardly think it implausible to want just one skinny male, homo sapiens.

The silence lasted until they swung into the road leading to Munger’s on the Sound. Then Honor said, “Lisa told me you didn’t want her there any more. Is that true, Cain?”

“She can stay as long as she wants,” Cain said.

“Because she’s in trouble?”

“Yes.”

Honor hesitated. “But you aren’t … hot for her any more?”

The expression sounded odd coming from her. “Nor anyone else,” Cain said.

“What do you do when you want a woman, Cain?”

“My God,” Cain said. He swung into the lot which was dotted with large and well-separated trees. Cars were parked in the shadows here and there. Cain chose a big fir and nosed against it. He got out and went around to her door, dropping the ignition keys into his pocket. “You’re too precocious for your own good, child.”

The building was east of them. To the west was a brief, tree-clad slope leading to the boat dock. Cain knew how Munger operated. For those who wanted something noisy and a drink or two, there was Pepe’s. This place, his headquarters, was a good distance out of town; the town was too tight. Here were the wheels, the chuck-a-luck tables, the poker and faro games, the crap table. On a high plane, of course. But if the customer wanted something more: the floor show without inhibition; a deck or a reefer, or a very exotic female of supposedly foreign extraction and talent, then there were launches to take them to these pleasures. It was carefully organized, well hidden and well protected. It was a lucrative business. Knowing Ryerson now as he did, Cain could well imagine Paula participating in such an enterprise. He wondered if Honor shared the Ryerson taint insofar as getting money was concerned.

“How much does money mean to you, Honor?”

She let him lead her over the gravel toward the building. “I don’t know, Cain. I never thought about it. I’ve never had much — cash, I mean.”

“But you’ve always had everything you’ve asked for. What if that were suddenly stopped?”

Honor paused under a small light that was above the doorway at the south end of the building. They had skirted the front with its covered veranda where a few people were taking a breath of air before going back into the gambling rooms.

She looked up at Cain and her expression was thoughtful. “I never thought of it, Cain. I don’t suppose it would really matter much, though.”

Cain rang the bell and a man, suave but bulky under his tailored tuxedo, opened the door. Cain showed a card. The man’s eyebrows went up but he stepped aside. Cain took Honor’s wrap, checked it, and they walked on into a dining room. It was nearly empty at this hour, it being too late for dinner and too early for supper. Beyond was a dimly lighted bar with booths around the wall. Cain chose one and seated Honor.

She ordered rye and water. He took club soda. Honor said, “Make mine double.”

“We’ll need clear heads,” Cain said. “This is still business.”

She grinned impishly. “I just want to get a weensy bit tight, Cain. It’s my birthday and I’m scared silly. I really am.”

He could see that now and he patted her hand. “No one will bother you, Honor. And I’ll try to be careful.”

The drink came and so did Cain’s club soda. When he tried to pay, the waiter said, “Mr. Munger’s compliments, sir.”

Cain tucked the bill into the waiter’s pocket as he turned to go. So the doorman had already sent the word along. Cain wondered how things were going to work out. He had only Munger’s apparent disinterest in him to go on. Of course, the reason Munger had not molested him could well be that Toby’s murder had temporarily thrown him out of gear. But Cain couldn’t bank on it.