Bring Back Her Body (2 page)

BY
having more patience than Ryerson, Cain got some information out of the old man. He learned that Ryerson’s marriage to Paula’s mother had been a business deal, a merger of stock more than of people. Through her mother, Paula had inherited enough voting power to give Ryerson trouble. His important business deal was a week from Saturday. This was Thursday, and Ryerson needed Paula or her proxy. He didn’t care how he got them.

From Honor, Cain had learned that Paula’s mother had left when Paula was still a baby. The old man had transferred his hatred of his first wife to Paula and had lavished his love on Honor when she had been born. Her mother had died in childbirth.

Cain said, “I still don’t see where Munger enters into this.”

“All I know is that Paula was last seen at a party given by a man named Toby Patton. Does that help?”

“No. I’ve met Patton, though,” Cain said distastefully.

“And,” Ryerson went on, “Paula was heard to say that she was leaving the party to see Munger, that he had cheated her. I’ve been wondering if she owed him gambling money again. If so, he might be holding her for payment.”

“Munger doesn’t operate that way,” Cain said. “He might kill her for welching. He wouldn’t just hold her.”

“I’ve already mentioned the possibility of her death.”

Cain nodded. He knew Munger well enough to agree that it was a possibility. He had worked for Munger briefly after the war. Restless, he had enjoyed running liquor up from Mexico on Munger’s boats. He had enjoyed it until the time he discovered they were carrying dope as well as liquor. He had tossed the whole lot into the ocean and decimated the small crew. Munger had never forgotten that.

“I’ll pay anything within reason, Cain,” Ryerson said suddenly.

“I have money,” Cain said. He had his boat; he had ten acres around the point for moorage. He had his income from the dinky apartment house his father had left him. He kept a unit for himself and the remaining rents bought his food and paid his taxes. When he wanted to fish, he fished. When he wanted to lie in the sun and read or drink, he did that. If he needed money for boat repairs or to buy more books, he went to Alaska and fished commercially for a while.

“What do you want then?”

Cain lit his pipe, puffing leisurely. “I don’t want anything,” he said finally.

“Damn it, man! Why did you come then?”

“Because Honor asked me to.” Cain sounded irritated. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t take the job. I just don’t want pay, that’s all. I’ll take expense money because if I go to Munger’s, I’ll gamble. Or if I tag that cheesy crowd Paula went with, I’ll have to buy drinks. But I want to be able to quit when I feel like it.”

“Oh, you’re afraid of Munger?”

“Sure,” Cain admitted. “I’m very much afraid of him. He hates my guts. He’d kill me if he dared. And someday he may dare. I don’t want to push him too far.” He didn’t want to but he knew he would. There was always an unholy pleasure in taunting Munger.

“But he doesn’t dare?” the old man echoed.

“He doesn’t know how much documentation I have on his so-called enterprises.” Cain grinned evilly into the darkness.

“Swap what you have for information on Paula. I’ll pay.”

“Once what I have is gone, I won’t need money. I’ll need a requiem.”

Ryerson didn’t offer to furnish that. He said, “What are you bargaining for?”

Cain suddenly realized Ryerson could not conceive of anyone working except for money. He said, “I told you, nothing. I’m doing it to help Honor. I want only expense money.”

“To tag Paula’s crowd. How well do you know them?”

“Too well,” Cain said. “I met a few once. They invaded my boat the night before Paula and I left for Alaska. I threw them off. They’re scum.”

“They’re rich.”

“Money isn’t cleansing powder for the soul,” Cain said.

Ryerson’s laugh was appreciative. “All right, Cain.”

“Give me more to go on,” Cain said. “What about her hideout on Whidby Island?”

“Honor’s checked a number of times. In fact, you’d better ask her for more information. She knows a lot more about Paula’s habits than I.” Ryerson stopped and then said, “She told me to tell you she’d be at the boathouse, if you accepted.”

Cain got up. “She knew I would,” he said. Ryerson rose too and handed something into the darkness. Cain took it — a good deal of money from the feel of the roll. He stuffed it casually into his pocket.

Ryerson said, “Report to me when you have something. Get Paula or her proxy for me — or her body. I don’t care which. But if she’s dead, I’ll need time enough to go into court.”

“You said all that before,” Cain told him and walked away.

Cain walked over the hill and paused on the crest before going down more sloping lawn to the boathouse. Even in the darkness, he could envisage the view from here. The Olympics were to the west and the Cascades to the east. The irregular tip of Whidby Island would be visible to the northwest and the northern end of Kitsap Peninsula was not far to the southwest. It would be a magnificent view. Too good, Cain thought, for most of the Ryersons.

He went on down to the boathouse and sat on the dock until Honor appeared. He could hear her splashing around in the water a short distance away. He spent his time wondering how much money Ryerson had tied up in pleasure boats. Honor herself had three that he knew of: a little inboard with a cabin; an open, expensive speedboat; and a very fancy cruiser.

Cain regarded them all as impractical alongside his own special job rigged for one man to operate by sail or power. He was proud of the design that gave him a tiny, but complete, cabin and bath separate from the galley, and a wide sweep of deck where he could lounge and soak up the sun if he chose.

The splashing came closer and in a moment he saw a white bathing cap above the blurred outlines of a face topping the dock floor. Soon the rest of Honor Ryerson appeared. Cain turned his eyes hastily toward the water.

“Man here,” he said quietly.

“So you did agree,” Honor said. She shook herself like a puppy, spraying water over Cain, and pulled off her cap to free her hair.

“Yes,” Cain said. “I came down for information.”

“Let’s go into the boathouse,” she said. “I don’t think Munger would dare send his men on the place but …” Her voice was young, undeveloped.

Cain could not help contrasting her voice to her figure. It was anything but young or undeveloped. When she snapped on the light in the boathouse, he looked hastily away again. It always bothered him to see Honor this way, although he had watched her pop in and out of the water with no more concern than a seal since they had met five years before.

“One of Munger’s hopheads could come alongside in a boat,” Cain warned. “We’ll keep our voices down.”

“Give me a cigarette, Cain.”

“Damn it, go get some clothes on.” Cain stared fixidly at the boats floating under the big shed. Besides the three he knew of, there was a little outboard.

Honor giggled at him. “Don’t you know yet that I’m after
mens sana in corpore sano?
A healthy mind in a healthy body.”

“I know my Latin,” Cain said peevishly. “And your mind isn’t healthy. I’ve watched that body develop inch by inch and the gleam in your eye has gone right along with it. Go get dressed.”

“Yes, Cain.” She walked off. “I’ll get you yet,” she said as she disappeared into a cubicle at the far end of the boathouse.

He knew that she teased him deliberately and had since she learned that he was susceptible to her. She returned shortly in jeans and a sweat shirt and sat on a bench beside Cain. In the light, her features were no longer blurred. They were like her voice, not yet caught up with her body. She had a very round face, round dark eyes, a cap of short, curly blond hair, a snub nose, and a full mouth that was somehow sensuous despite the irregularity in her front teeth that strengthened the appearance of babyishness. The overall effect was that of an immature imp.

They smoked a moment in silence, using Cain’s cigarettes. Then she said, “What are your plans, Cain?”

I’ll start at the beginning and try to trace the whole affair forward,” he said. “I could go straight to Munger but I want him to think I took his warning — for a while, at least.”

“Warning?”

Cain recounted his experience at the gate. Telling it made him enjoy it all over again. He only regretted there had not been an excuse to break Smoky’s neck.

“Exciting!” she said and tried to snuggle up against him.

Cain said, “So I want to start from the beginning and …”

“That’s what I decided too, Cain,” she broke in. “And we’ll start right tonight. It’s perfect for it.”

“Whoa!” Cain said. He moved a little away from her. “We won’t do anything, child.”

“Pooh,” she said. “I don’t have any classes tomorrow. “She jumped up. “Let’s go get me ready.”

“Wait a minute. All I want from you is information on Paula’s favorite hangouts and …”

“I’ll show you but I won’t tell you.” She stood looking down at him. “So there!”

They glared at one another, both with set, stubborn looks on their faces. Honor said almost tearfully, “I’ve always wanted to see some of the places and things Paula talks about. Now I have a chance — and I’m going!”

“Not with me,” Cain said.

Honor sat down. “Then we don’t go. You can’t unless I tell you my big lead.”

Cain scratched his freshly shaved jawbone. He could go without her, of course, but it would be a long job finding the right places. And in a way he knew that she was right. She had spent years listening to Paula’s escapades. She would know names and places that could help him. He wanted first to contact Toby Patton, and Honor might be a very good front for the job.

He said, “What did you mean a minute ago by tonight being perfect for it?”

“I won’t tell unless you take me along.”

This was a game to her, Cain saw. But he knew how she was when she became stubborn. He said resignedly, “All right, we’ll go.”

Honor squealed and threw her arms around him, kissing him on the mouth before he could move away. She held the kiss a little too long for it to be wholly spontaneous. Cain finally pried her loose. He swallowed a grin. He had learned something — Honor didn’t know much about kissing.

“Race you to the house,” she challenged. “We can talk while I get ready. I’ll even give you coffee.” She darted through the door and ran off.

Cain snapped out the light and plodded after her. After thirty years of living, he lacked the desire to run up a hill. In a moment she turned and came back. “What do you think of Toby Patton?” she asked suddenly.

“He’s a bit — ladylike,” Cain said delicately. “But he’s also a much-muscled man. I can’t figure him out. But when I hear of those parties he gives …” He stopped short. The idea that had come into his head was an ugly one with little foundation. He would have to be more careful talking to Honor. As far as he knew, she was the one person who loved Paula Ryerson.

But Honor finished for him. “You mean, did something happen at one of Toby’s crazy parties and everyone covered up?”

“Yes,” Cain admitted. He wished her mind wasn’t so quick.

“I thought of that,” Honor said. “And if I could really be sure I hadn’t seen her recently. I wouldn’t be so worried.”

“It’s a screwy idea,” Cain said. “Forget it.”

“From the way Paula described those parties,” Honor said, “anything could happen. Everyone so drunk and wearing silly costumes, and being the kind of people they are and …”

The way she said it made Cain realize that she was too young to see the sybaritic humor behind Toby’s parties. It was just as well. He said, “Did anything else make you think something might have happened in connection with Toby Patton?”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “You see I called Toby the day after she disappeared. Daddy wanted her for something that had to do with his business. Toby wasn’t at home. I called for over a week before I could get in touch with him. And then he was so — odd. I’ve met him and he’s always been nice to me. Too nice, sort of. But this time he was sharp, as if he were worried or something.”

“Probably out hiding the body,” Cain said, and was immediately sorry.

“That’s what I’ve been wondering,” Honor said. “He’s capable of it, you know.”

THEY
met the butler on the landing and Honor said, “Thomas, would you bring Cain some coffee, please? He’ll be in my room.”

“Yes, Miss Honor.” His was the resigned voice.

Cain glanced back and saw Thomas looking up at him. They had been acquaintances for years. In Thomas’ eyes, Cain saw a definitely pitying expression. Cain shrugged and turned to follow Honor.

He had never been in her room before but he was not surprised at the contents. He wandered about, looking at her astronomical globes, her books, her desk littered with papers, a slide rule, a mathematical text, and assorted odds and ends. At one side of the room a stairway went up to a flat roof. Cain climbed to it. Here was Honor’s telescope, a serviceable six-inch reflector, fitted with a small motor for making time exposures. He swung it around and squinted toward the lower end of Whidby Island where he knew Paula Ryerson’s hideout was located. What little he could see was upside down. There was no sign of life or of a light where he knew Paula’s place was located.

When Cain went back down, there was coffee waiting for him. Honor was at a dressing table working assiduously with lipstick and eyebrow pencil. She said without looking around, “I’ve decided to go East for my graduate work, Cain.”

“That will be a relief,” he muttered. Aloud, he said, “Fine.”

“Are you coming to my graduation? In two weeks.”

“You’re too young to graduate.”

“I’ll be twenty. Please come, Cain. I have a ticket for you. And I’m Summa Cum Laude. Isn’t that nice?”

“Fine,” Cain said again. “Only you don’t know a damned thing but astronomy.”

“I do too!” she said defensively. “I’ve just finished some important work in astrophysics and I’m doing a very exciting paper on some possible problems in space navigation.”

“Okay,” Cain conceded. “You’re a bright little girl who has had to work twice as hard in the science department as a homely one would. You’ve earned it, Honor, but you’re still too young. You don’t know anything about — about life.” He disliked the phrase but it was the only one he could think of.

“That’s your job,” she said quickly. “You’ve lectured me on literature; now you can teach me about life.”

Cain could feel the subject heading in the wrong direction. He said hastily, “There’s more to this Toby business than you’ve told me, isn’t there? You aren’t frightened for Paula just because he sounded brusque over the telephone.”

“No-o.” Honor did something with mascara. “I found out that Toby works for Karl Munger. He’s a — a shill, Lisa Simms said once when some of the crowd was here.”

Cain couldn’t place Lisa Simms among those who had invaded his boat, but the train of Honor’s thought was clear to him: Karl Munger decided to get rid of Paula; Toby worked for Munger; Toby gave screwy parties where odd things happened. Ergo, no Paula.

He said, “On the way up to the house you mentioned something about seeing Paula a few days ago.”

“I think I saw someone on Whidby through my telescope. I’d checked before and there was no sign of anyone. I went right over that time but I couldn’t find her.”

“Maybe she had someone hidden there? — A man?”

“Not Paula. No one but me ever stayed over night there with her. She doesn’t like people there and she has the whole place surrounded with an electrically charged fence.”

Cain let it go for the time being as Honor stood up, ready. He helped her into her fur wrap and they walked sedately out to her Buick convertible sedan. She drove Cain to where his car was hidden and then followed him to his little apartment in Seattle where he changed into his tuxedo.

They got into her car and Honor drove swiftly and skillfully along Broadway almost to Jackson before angling right, going down a hill, and onto a steep paved street. Here, there was a sign over a dingy-looking building:
Pepe’s
. Honor parked in a line of fancy automobiles and cut the motor.

Cain said, “You wouldn’t have known this in advance, would you? This is one of Munger’s in-town places.”

She smiled brightly. “Toby is supposed to be throwing one of his preliminaries to a party here tonight.”

“Uhm,” Cain said. So that was why this night was “perfect for it.” He was not upset: he had been euchred by Honor before. He said, “One thing before we go in. Why doesn’t Paula give your father her proxy and forget about business? Then he wouldn’t have to drag her home every time he needs her vote.”

She was very serious, her dark eyes round and large. “She doesn’t dare, Cain. He hates her so. She’s afraid he’ll try to kill her or get rid of her someway. Really try.”

Cain remembered Ryerson’s tone, the thread of hatred tonight when he had spoken of Paula.

He said, “Let’s go in, Honor.” He felt very sorry for her.

The evening was rougher than Cain had anticipated. It wasn’t Honor that bothered him at first. She had done surprisingly well in hiding her age with make-up and her evening gown. And it didn’t really matter, Cain knew, after one look at Pepe’s. She could have been ten years old and no one would have cared as long as she had money to spend.

Inside, Pepe’s was bright and brittle with a thick layer of pseudo-Hollywood sophistication designed to draw the more adolescent members of the drinking public. The hatcheck girl managed to be clothed enough to pass the censor and yet give the impression that if she breathed just right her slit blouse would dissolve away from her ample chest. She took Cain’s disreputable black hat and Honor’s fur jacket, passed out a ticket, and turned away. She looked bored with the whole affair.

Inside the one main room there was smoke and noise, a babble of voices fighting against a falling and rising shrill of brass from the small bandstand. There were a dozen booths and one center table with chairs for eight people grouped around it. Cain angled away from it toward a booth as far removed from the bandstand as possible. As they walked, he felt Honor’s hand, resting on his arm, tighten perceptibly. For the first time she seemed genuinely nervous.

Cain seated her and then watched as she picked up the liquor list. Her tongue worked into view between her teeth and a frown of concentration wrinkled her forehead. The list was obviously incomprehensible to her.

“Let me order for you,” Cain suggested. When the waiter came, he said, “Rye and ditch. Pink lady.”

Honor looked mortified. When the waiter returned with the drinks she regarded her foamy concoction with open suspicion, tasted it, reached for Cain’s drink, tasted that, and then firmly pushed the pink lady at him. “You ordered it, you drink it.”

“You learn fast,” Cain said. Since he wasn’t drinking anyway, he let the pink lady stay in front of him. Honor sipped the rye and water with obvious pleasure and chatted casually to Cain. He pushed down his impatience. She seemed to know what she was doing; he let her handle it. Her conversation consisted of remarks on the potential problems of celestial navigation. The blaring band kept Cain from hearing more than a word now and then. He was grateful to it.

Suddenly Honor stopped talking. A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth and froze there. This was it, Cain thought. He stopped toying with the pink-lady glass and turned his head. Someone was standing at his shoulder.

It was Toby Patton. He was quite short, appearing to be a wisp of a man until a second look showed the breadth of his shoulders, the heavy neck supporting his small, delicate-featured head. His arms were long and the fingers on his big hands were long and spatulate, ugly looking for all their careful grooming. His eyes were a light, oddly pale blue that had an emptiness to them. Cain knew the emptiness was as misleading as the wispy effect.

“Well,” he said, “the little astronomer and the big fisherman.” There was mockery in his voice, and something off beat about the tone of it.

“Hullo, Toby,” Honor said and tried to sound surprised. “This is Cain.”

“I’ve met Cain,” Toby Patton said. They nodded, neither man offering to shake hands.

“Sit down,” Honor said. She did not look particularly happy. Cain realized that she was frightened of Toby Patton. Yet she had been anxious to come here, and had, in a way, arranged it for Cain. He had to admire her.

“I have a party going,” Toby said. “Why don’t you two join us?”

Cain looked doubtful. Honor drove her sharply pointed toe into his shin. Toby said, “You’ll love them all, I’m sure.” And now his voice was mincing.

“Uhm,” Cain said. Why not? His reluctance was obvious but not overdone. He did not expect to like any of them, let alone love them. But even if he had come here for an entry into this crowd, he did not want to appear over-eager.

Toby went away, signaling a waiter to do something about extra chairs for the big table which had suddenly sprouted a group of people. Cain noticed that Honor was sitting where she could see anyone coming in. His back was to the door and the center table.

“Don’t be rude, Cain,” Honor said as he helped her from the booth.

His eyes were on Toby Patton who tripped along rather than walked. Cain said, “This is too damned pat for my taste. Toby couldn’t have been expecting us, could he?”

“I didn’t exactly say we would be here …” she murmured vaguely. Toby turned, beckoning to them, and Honor put her hand on Cain’s arm. “Come on, dear,” she said sweetly.

Cain allowed himself to be led to the center table. He didn’t like any of this. He could understand Honor’s rather obvious trickery — she wanted his help in finding Paula. But he couldn’t comprehend why Toby Patton should be so eager for his company. Unless …

“Toby works for Karl Munger,” Honor had said.

Cain felt better. He even grinned in a friendly fashion at the tall brunette he was seated next to. Honor was on his left with Toby beyond her. Toby indicated the new arrivals with a flourish as he sat down.

“This is Cain, the fisherman fellow. And you all know Paula’s Honor.” There was a laugh. Cain did not share it. Nor, he noticed, did the brunette on his right. He remembered vaguely having seen her somewhere and he was about to ask her name when Toby began introductions. Cain knew some of the crowd slightly. The tall, sallow, dishfaced man on Toby’s left was named Curtin. Next to him was a wispy blond who giggled constantly and answered to the name of Norene. After her was the lawyer Smathers whom Cain recognized from newspaper photographs, his quite drunk and pretty but undistinguished-looking wife, and then a doctor whose name Cain never did catch. Between the doctor and the brunette was a carroty-haired girl with a pouting mouth and an eye that ranged constantly from man to man.

She smiled across the brunette at Cain. “I’m Anne.” Cain scowled at her and she turned and bit the doctor on the ear. When he smiled, he looked very much like an amiable ape.

Toby had finished and Cain still didn’t know the name of the brunette. He asked Honor. She said, “I thought you knew Lisa Simms.”

Now he remembered her, the name and the face in combination recalling to his mind the one time they had met. It was the night of the invasion of his boat. She had been very drunk and very hard to handle. Cain remembered that she had chased him all over the boat with a pint of whiskey in an effort to give him a drink. He had finally thrown her into the water and left her for someone else to fish out. But she had swum off and dragged herself to shore where she sat and waved at him while she finished the pint of whiskey.

Cain had been delighted with his discovery and started to throw the remainder of the party off the boat in the same manner. After two had gone overboard, the rest took the hint and departed. Cain had never seen Lisa Simms again until now.

He looked at her. She said, “Cain again.” She had a throaty voice, her words slow and thoughtfully spoken. “I remember when you used me for bait one night.”

Even though she was seated, her tallness was marked. Cain guessed her at very close to six feet. She was slender and quite small boned but definitely not underweight. There was a good deal of woman inside her white evening gown. She was sober and, Cain saw in surprise, beautiful. Her features were unconventional but there was something about them, the planes of her face, the slight off-center tilt to her nose, the almost oriental angle of her wide eyes that impressed Cain’s sense of the aesthetic.

She let him inspect her and then she raised her eyes. He liked them when she looked at him. They were a debatable shade of brown flecked with bits of amber, and were quite serious. He was interested because there was little sign of the dissipation, the soft flabbiness about her that stamped the rest of the group.

“I’m sorry,” Cain said.

“I’m the one to apologize,” she answered. “I made an unholy mess of myself that night. It doesn’t happen often. But when I get a few drinks I think everyone should have some too. It’s just my friendly nature.”

“I could see that,” Cain said. He felt a sudden pain as a sharp heel came down on his instep.

“You brought
me
, remember?” a voice said in his ear.

“I was just apologizing for having thrown the lady into the water once,” Cain said.

“You — apologizing?” Honor tried the fresh rye and water that was placed before her. “Anyway, you should have held her head under.”

Before Cain could comment on the frank dislike in Honor’s voice, Toby said something and caught her attention. Cain surveyed the crowd. Most of them were swilling their liquor now as if anxious to reach a stage where a lot of things made little difference. He saw the doctor set down his glass and smile at the redheaded girl. But when he looked at Toby Patton his amiable expression changed to one of ugliness. Norene kept giggling and pulling Curtin’s hands into sight. They would promptly disappear again. Smathers was having a long conversation with his wife. The redhead kept glancing toward Cain and sneering and turning to bite the doctor on the ear again.

Lisa said, “Having fun, Cain?”

“Hardly. But if I had to spend much time with this crew, I’d stay drunk in self-protection.”

“Don’t,” she said in a low voice. “Spend much time with them, I mean.”

“I have no intention of it,” he assured her.