Case Pending - Dell Shannon (28 page)

"You take it easy now," said Hackett,
soothing; he glanced at Mendoza. They could both reconstruct that
one, Brooks, now. Eddy peering in the shop window, seeing Carol come
out with the doll.  His doll, that he'd been promised, that she
had no right to. Following, working up to anger at her thievery.

"—when I heard—about that girl, and I
remembered there was a little spot on his shirt, like blood—I had
to tell Ma, but she wouldn't listen, she wouldn't believe he'd— She
said I'd just forgot, she had so bought the doll and I was making up
bad stories—"

Mendoza sighed to himself; he had heard that animal
mothers too always gave more attention to the runt of a litter, the
sickly one. . . ."I'd like to hear something about the skating
rink, Marty. This girl, this time."

"Yes, sir. That was even more my fault, 'cause I
knew how bad he could do, then. I shouldn't've—but Ma'd got
kind of sick, she was doctoring at the clinic and couldn't go out
with him any more nights, I had to every night. And sometimes it
was kind of hard, things I wanted to do with other fellows, like
movies sometimes—you know—h-he got away a couple times more, and
once when I found him he was at that place, he'd found a sort of
little back door that was open and he was getting in, and I had to go
after, I had an awful time getting him to come away—he liked the
music, and he liked to watch them going round and round. And Dad, you
know how when he liked anything he'd be good and quiet, just sit
there still as could be, hours sometimes—I thought it was all
right!  I-I went with him a couple of times, and he never moved,
just sat there watching and listening, see. So I thought, he'd
do like that long as that place was open at night, never bother
nobody, nobody knew we was there at all. And, Dad, it wasn't
like cheating to sneak in without paying like that, because we wasn't
using it, I mean didn't go to skate. I thought I could just, sort of,
leave him there and it'd be all right, he'd just sit and never do
nothing.  And I did, a lot of times, I went off and to a movie
or somewheres, not to see it all through but mostly, you know—and
came back to get him, and he was fine, right where I'd left him."

"And at the rink," said Mendoza softly, "he
saw a girl, a pretty girl who looked like his beautiful doll. . .
.How'd I know that? Why, I'm a detective, Marty."

"He was—funny—about the doll," said the
boy with a little gasp. "I mean, I guess he sort of—loved
it—but same time, he did things to it—bad things. Yes, sir,
it was like that—at that place, he saw this girl, he got terrible
excited about it, kept talking about her— I mean, what—what he
meant for talk, he couldn't ever talk real plain, you know. It
was really that, sort of, that'd tell you what he was like, because
just to look at him, he—"

Yes; not until you looked twice, saw the eyes, the
lumbering walk, or heard the guttural attempts at speech, would you
know. Otherwise, to the casual look, just a big young man, maybe
a little stupid.

"Once down on Commerce, when I was with him, I
saw her too—he—tried to go up and talk to her, I got him away
then. And I guess she was a little scared, remembered me
anyways, I mean what I looked like, even if it was dark—because a
couple days after, in the daytime, I saw her in the street again, and
she made like to say something to me, but she never—Danny was with
me, he—"

"You're doing fine, but don't try to tell
everything, just take it Easy."

"He wanted—to skate with her, round and round,
to the music," said the boy faintly. "I shouldn't
never have left him there that night. I got sort of scared about
it in the movies, I thought I'd better—and he was gone! I looked
everywheres, but it was so dark and I didn't dare call at him very
loud, people— And when I did find him, it was right there, that lot
where— I didn't know then, I didn't, I never saw her! He had a
lady's handbag, I didn't see that until we was down the street a
ways, and I thought he'd stole it. I just dropped it, like,
didn't know what else—he didn't mind when I took it, he—"

So that built up Ramirez for them. He saw the boy she
was with taken out, and the girl left alone. So now was his
chance to go skating round and round with his pretty doll who'd come
alive for him—and that was all, probably, he'd followed her for: to
tell her that, ask her. And the girl, confronted there in the dark,
alone, in the empty lot, with the animal mouthings, the eager
pawings, losing her head, struggling to get away— And that was all
it had needed.

Mendoza said, "All right, Marty, that's all for
right now. You just try to stop thinking about it.  Go to
sleep and don't worry any more."

"He was just wild, find the doll was gone's
morning." The boy lay back tiredly on the pillows, his eyes
closing. "I think even Ma was real scared then—so was
I—and tonight, well, she'd been telling him all the while I'd—get
it back for him—and when I said I couldn't, he—"

"Yes, we understand all that. Don't worry about
it now—everything's over."

As they turned to the door Lindstrom said rather
desperately, "Please, sir, I got to ask you—will they—will
they do anything to—to my boy or me for being to blame about
this? I mean, I want to do what's right, I ain't trying to get
out of anything, but—"

Mendoza turned back to him. "There's no
legal responsibility involved here really, now the boy's dead,
Mr. Lindstrom. I couldn't say, it's an academic question,
under other circumstances very likely the D.A. and the grand jury
might have decided to call it criminal negligence. As it is, I
scarcely drink so. Certainly not the boy, a minor couldn't be
assumed responsible. . .I might add, however, that at any time
these seven years you could have taken action, if and when it
seemed-indicated. A word to any of a number of agencies—police,
county health, doctor, hospital—"

"She made us premise!" burst out the boy.
"She made us promise on the Bible!"

Mendoza looked at them a minute more, smiled, said
good night, and followed Hackett out to the corridor. "Any
comment?" he asked, very soft and amused.

"
Nada
,"
said Hackett heavily. "Just—people. Leave it
there. Are we wound up here?"

"I want to see Morgan."
 

FIFTEEN

"The gun," said Mendoza.

"Damn lucky—I had it on me," repeated
Morgan. He was all there, himself, sitting up smoking a borrowed
cigarette, not much of a bandage to frighten his wife when she came;
but he'd had just enough sedation to slow his mind somewhat, at the
same time loosen his tongue.

"I don't deny it. You've saved everybody
quite a bit of trouble including the expense of a trial.  It's
only a small point, Mr. Morgan, and maybe you'll think I'm being
unnecessarily careful. But as of the moment, California law says you
don't need a license for firearms unless you're carrying them on the
person or— I needn't quote the whole thing, that's the relevant
part. License, Mr. Morgan?—and not that it's any of my business,
but how did you come to be carrying a loaded gun on a visit to one of
your cases?"

"It's all shot to hell now," muttered
Morgan, "all for nothing—and you know, I don't think—I don't
think I could've done it anyway." He looked at Gunn, at the
other side of the bed—Gunn, who'd had to get dressed and come out
after all. "I'll tell you," he said, "I'll tell
you—didn't go there to see Mrs.  Lindstrom, Mendoza. I
went to kill a man. A man named Smith."

They heard about Smith in disjointed phrases. Gunn's
round, amiable face got longer and more worried by the second. "Oh,
you damn fool, Dick—can't have been thinking straight—should've
come to me, gone to the police, he couldn't—"

"Oh, couldn't he! Can't he! I remember enough
law— Extortion? The law doesn't take your unsupported word, does
it?"—turning on Mendoza, who shook his head. "What
could I do, what else could I-? Well, there it is—wasn't intended,
I guess—and now we're right back where we were. God, I don't
know'

"Smith," said Mendoza. "Description?"
And when he'd pried that out of Morgan, "Yes, well, he won't be
troubling you for a while. His real name's Dalton, he's a small-time
hood on the run from parole in New York, and we picked him up tonight
in the middle of the other excitement.  He's got two years
coming back east."

"Oh, God, you don't mean it—he's—all this
for—"

"Take it easy, Dick," said Gunn, sitting
down, looking almost sick with relief. "That doesn't mean
you're out of the woods, but it makes it the hell of a lot easier. If
the woman's so—tractable, the way you say, there shouldn't be any
trouble. Put it through nice and quiet, get her to see a lawyer
with you, there shouldn't be any contest, just a routine
thing. Dalton wasn't after Janny, only the money, he wouldn't—"

"You think—no hitch, do it like that?  If
we—oh, God, I hope so, we've both been about crazy—" Morgan
sat up and clutched Gunn's arm. "You said Sue's
coming?—want to tell her—tell her it's all right, or almost—"

"Sue's coming, you lie down. I called
Christy, she's gone over to stay with Janny, and Sue'll be taking a
cab down, on her way right now, probably."

Mendoza stood up. "There'll be an inquest,
of course, but purely formal. You needn't worry about it.
Self-defense, justifiable Homicide.

Which is a very damned lucky outcome for you,
Morgan. You don't know how lucky. If you want the Luger
back, you'll have to apply for a License."

"Oh, well, keep it, I don't want it. I-I
feel fine," said Morgan, and laughed. "Wish Sue'd get
here. You can have the damn gun. Glad now—didn't use its the
way I planned, anyway—"

"Just as well." Mendoza looked down at him,
smiling very faintly.

"I'd advise you, Morgan, not to get in a
situation again where you start thinking about murder—in the first
place, it never solves any problems, you known it creates more. And
in the second place, from what you told me of your plans for this
one, it wouldn't take a full-fledged lieutenant of detectives to spot
you for X about half an hour after the corpse began to cool. However,
as it is we're all very happy you happened to be in the right place
at the right time—and congratulations on the rest of this working
out for you." He nodded to Gunn, still looking amused, and went
out.

After a minute Morgan said, "Damn
him—that's—when I thought I was being so clever, too. . . .but I
suppose he's right, at that. Just something about him—puts my back
up, is all."

Gunn sneezed, said, "Oh, hell it is a cold,"
and took out another cigarette. "Well, you know—Luis,"
he added soberly, "maybe he's just what they call
overcompensating, for a time he was only another dirty little Mex kid
in a slum street. You know? Tell you one thing, Dick, he's
a damned good cop—if a little erratic now and then," and he
grinned. He found a packet of matches, looked at it without
lighting the cigarette. "He's also a very lonely
man. Which, maybe he'll find out some day."

Morgan moved
restlessly. "Give me another one of those, will you? I
wish Sued come. . . ."

* * *

"Philosophizing?" Mendoza came up behind
Hackett in the lobby.

"Yeah, I guess you could say I was," said
Hackett, who'd been standing stock-still, staring vacantly at the
wall. "I guess so. You know, this whole thing—it just
struck me—what for? What's it mean?"

Mendoza laughed and shrugged. "
¿Quidn
sabe?-¡Sabe Dios!
  Nice to think it
means anything."

"No, but it makes you wonder. You look at
it and you can work up a fine righteous wrath against that damn fool
woman, against the ignorance and false pride and plain damned
muddle-headedness that's killed three people-four, if you count
him-and all unnecessarily. But was it? The way things
dovetail, sometimes—Morgan just happening to be there, and with a
gun on him—because if he hadn't had, you know, I don't think he
could have handled that one alone, I don't think any two men—
Without the gun, maybe Morgan dead too. And maybe it was all for
something, Luis—that we don't know about, never will. To save
the boy—maybe he's got something to do here, part of some plan. You
know?  Maybe," and Hackett laughed, "so Agnes Browne
could get all straightened out with her Joe. Maybe so the Wades
can keep their nice high-class superior-white-Protestant bloodline
pure."

"Comforting to think," repeated Mendoza
cynically. "That's why I'm a lieutenant and you're a sergeant,
Arturo—every time I formulate a theory, I want evidence to say it's
so, or I don't keep the theory.
¿Comprende?
On that, there's no evidence.  If you want to theorize,
chico
,
maybe it all happened so I could meet this pretty redhead. Change,
please, if you've got it—
¿Date prisa, por
favor!
"

Hackett took the quarter and gave him three nickels
and a dime. "You watch yourself with that one, boy—I got a
hunch you don't get something for nothing there."

"All these years and you don't know me yet. Wait
and see.
Hasta luego
-eight
o'clock sharp, we've a lot of routine to clear up." Mendoza went
over to the row of public phone booths.