Killing Mr. Griffin (17 page)

into some corner of his brain, just the way he wedged in Betsy’s name.

All it’ll take now is for one of his superiors to read out the description during briefing, and out it’ll come. “Hey/ he’ll say, “I’ve seen a car like that. It’s down at the airport.” ” “What can we do?” Susan asked. “Go down and move it?” “We’ll have to. There’s no time now to sit around and wait for some dude to rip it off. But where can we stow it? Christ, Betsy, I’d like to strangle you.” “I’m sorry,” Betsy said contritely. “I didn’t mean to make problems.” “So you didn’t mean to; a lot of good that does us! Well, put your mind to it and see what you can come up with. We’ve got to find a safe place to stow that car, and we’ve got to do it now.” “We could paint it and maybe sell it,” Susan said. “Without the title? You must be nuts.”

“What about dumping it out at one of the Indian pueblos?” David suggested. “You know, they’re private land. The police can’t go poking around on them without special permission from their governors.

A car could sit there for a long time without being reported.” “Which pueblo? The closest is Sandia, and that’s too small. The Indians there know every car that comes in and out. Zuni’s bigger, but who wants to drive a hot car a couple of hundred miles on interstate highways to reach it?” “I have an idea,” Betsy said. “Let’s take it out on the mesa and scrap it. I mean, just tear it apart, knock it into pieces, and scatter them.” “With what, a sledgehammer? Should we

cut it up into half-inch hunks with a metal saw? How many years do you think that would take us, if we ever did get it done?” “Well, you suggest something,” David said. “You’re the big idea guy.” “I did think of something—the airport. It would have been perfect too, if Betsy hadn’t screwed things up for us. Okay, we’re stuck now. The best I can come up with is that we stick it in the Garretts’ garage.”

“In their garage!” Betsy exclaimed. “Why, that’s not hiding it!

Jeff’s parents will see it right away.” “So they see it. Jeff can tell them he’s working on the engine for a friend.” “For how long?”

David asked skeptically. “For a couple of days? A week?” “For as long as it’s got to be before we figure out something else. The main thing is, we’ve got to get that car out of the airport lot and under cover fast. When that cop goes back to the lot to look at it, it’s got to be gone.” “Jeff’s parents have a two-car garage,” Betsy said. “Jeff can park his own car in the driveway. It wouldn’t be the first time; he did some work on Greg Dart’s car just last month.” “And while he’s got it he can spray it with paint,” Mark said. “And we can do something about digging up a different license plate. Yeah, this is the best answer. If we get the car looking different we can travel with it. Then maybe we can follow up on Dave’s idea and take it out to Zuni.” “How do you know Jeff will agree to this?” Susan asked.

“Having it right there in his own garage and everything?” “He’s got to agree. He doesn’t have a choice.” “What if his parents recognize it

from the description in the paper?”

“They won’t,” Mark said. “There are lots of green Chevies in the world. Besides, they’ve got no reason to be suspicious of anything Jeff does. He messes around with cars all the time.”

“Here comes Maria with the Cokes,” David said. “Oh—and there’s Jeff.”

He raised his hand to catch the attention of the boy who had just come in. Their eyes caught, and Jeff started across the room toward the table.

He reached them just as the waitress was distributing the last of the drinks.

“I was wondering where you were,” she said with a smile. “How’s my best customer today? Hamburger and fries as usual?”

“No,” Jeff said. “Nothing for me.”

“Not even a Coke?”

“I said, I don’t want anything.”

Betsy slid over to make room for him, and Jeff wedged himself in beside her. His face was without its usual ruddy coloring, and his mouth was set strangely.

The others regarded him in silence until Maria had moved out of earshot. Then Mark asked, “What’s happened?”

“I heard it on the car radio,” Jeff said. “They’ve found it.”

“Then all our worry over where to move it was for nothing,” Betsy moaned. “What did they say, Jeff? Was there anything about Dave and me being seen parking it?”

“They didn’t find the car,” Jeff said hoarsely. “It’s the body.

They’ve found Griffin.”

“That’s impossible,” Mark said. “It’s some kind of trick. Nobody knows that place but us. There’s no way they could have found him.”

“They said they did. His wife’s identified him. They said his wallet was missing.” “I knew it,” Susan whispered. “There’s no way we could have gotten away with it.” “They’re guessing about the wallet.

It stands to reason, nobody’d dump a guy without taking his wallet.”

Mark’s full attention was on Jeff. “Did they say where they found him?

Did they mention Dave’s Windbreaker?” “No. It was real brief, just a news flash. They said the wallet was gone and his Stanford ring was missing from his finger.” “Well, that proves it’s a trick. We didn’t take any ring. They’re throwing the whole thing out to see if they can get a reaction. It’s a scare thing.” “Do you still want to move the car?” Betsy asked. “The sooner the better. Jeff will take you to the lot, and you follow him back to his place. We’re stashing the Chevy in your garage for a while, Jeff.” Mark was all business. “I don’t want it at my place,” Jeff objected. “That thing’s hot as hell.” “There’s no place else. Keep the garage door shut and give it a fast paint job.” Mark turned to David. “You ride along with Betsy as a lookout.”

“I can’t,” David said. “I’ve got to get Sue home and get back to my own place. I told my mom I’d be back by five.” “What a life you lead.

It’s like punching a time clock.” Mark grimaced. “Okay, I’ll ride lookout. First I’m going to the men’s room and cut up Griffin’s credit cards and flush them down the John. And I’m dumping the wallet in the garbage. And, so help me, Bets, if you get stopped for a ticket during

this ride, you’ve had it.”

“If you don’t think they’ve really found him, why are you getting rid of everything?” Susan asked in a thin voice.

Mark did not appear to hear her. He got up and left the table.

Where are we going?” Susan asked. “This isn’t the way to my house.”

“We’re going by my place first,” David told her. “If my mom’s back from the laundry, I’ll borrow her car and take you home.” “But why your place?” She was half running to keep up with him. “There’s something I’ve got to get there.” “David, please, slow down. People are staring at us.” She caught hold of his arm, forcing him to slacken his pace, trying to get him to turn and look at her. “Please tell me what this is all about. You’re not—” The thought struck her suddenly, filling her with a mixture of terror and relief—“You’re not going to report it, are you?” “Report it? You mean, turn us all in?” Now he did look at her, his eyes wide and incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding.” “Kidding? About that? Do you really think I’d kid about

anything now?” She tightened her grip on his arm. “We could drive down to the police station and—just tell them.

We could explain how it all happened—how we never meant it—” “Don’t talk that way,” David said harshly. “Don’t even start thinking like that. It’s too late.” “Too late? Why?” “They’d never believe us.

We’ve waited too long. Maybe you were right in the first place when you wanted to go to your father. If we’d gone in right after it happened we might have been believed. But not now. My God, Sue, we buried him! We dug a hole and put him in the ground. Innocent people wouldn’t have done that, would they?” “We’re not innocent, but we’re not murderers either. If we confessed, it would be all over.” “It would be over all right, but not in the way you mean it.” His voice was flat and expressionless. “The one hope we’ve got is to keep our mouths shut and cover our tracks as completely as possible. You heard what Mark said about getting rid of the credit cards.” “Mark says it’s a trick—that they didn’t really find him.” “It isn’t a trick.” “Mark says—” “I don’t care what Mark says,” David said shortly. “It isn’t a trick. They’ve dug up Griffin and identified him. That part about the ring is right. It wasn’t on his finger.” “How do you know?” Susan asked. “Because I took it off.” “You—what?” She couldn’t believe she was hearing him correctly. “You took off his ring—and kept it?”

David nodded. “How could you do such a thing? Why did you do it?”

“I don’t know.” “You have to know. You had to be thinking of something. Were you planning to sell it?” The moment she asked the question she longed to snatch it back again. The idea of David Ruggles stealing a ring from a dead man’s hand in order to sell it was inconceivable. Yet, was it more incredible than anything else? What other answer could there be? The whole thought was sickening. She pictured him kneeling on the earth, the thin, limp hand in his, pulling and twisting to get the ring off over the knuckle, and a thick, sour liquid rose in her throat and filled the back of her mouth. “Why?”

she asked again. “I told you the truth, Sue,” David said miserably.

“I just don’t know. I’ve asked myself that question a hundred times.

I just know that when I saw that ring on his hand, there was something about it that made me feel—” He faltered and left the sentence hanging incomplete. “Feel, how?” Susan pressed him. “As though—it were—mine,” David said haltingly. “It was as though it were something that belonged to me a long time ago, and I had lost it.” “That doesn’t make sense,” Susan said. “I know it doesn’t. I can’t explain it any more than that. I don’t understand it any better than you do. I took it, and that’s that. Now I’ve got to get rid of it.” “Why didn’t you say something back at the soda shop when Jeff told us about the announcement on the radio?” Susan asked. “Why did you let it stand, when Mark said no one had taken the ring, so the broadcast had to be some sort of trick?” “I just didn’t want to have to hash it over,”

David said. “Mark was in one of his nasty moods, and I didn’t want to have to explain a lot of stuff I didn’t have answers for. I feel rotten enough for having done such a dumb thing. I don’t need Mark on my back too.” “We can’t keep secrets from Mark,” Susan said. “Mark has to know everything, or he won’t be able to tell us what to do.” “If Mark knew about the ring,” David said, “all he’d do would be to tell me to get rid of it fast. I’m going to do that anyway. That’s why we’re going to my house. I’ll get it, and on the way over to your place I’ll dump it down a sewer grating or something.”

“Where is the ring right now?” Susan asked him. “In my bedroom,”

David said, “in the top drawer of my bureau, in a little box where I keep spare change and stuff. That’s the house, over there, the brown one on the corner. I’ll have the ring in about two minutes.” They covered the distance in silence. When they reached the house, David said, “The car’s not here. I guess my mother isn’t back yet. I’ll have to walk you home.” He turned the knob and shoved the door open, motioning Susan in ahead of him. She stepped hesitantly into the small, darkened room, glancing nervously about her. “Don’t you lock up when nobody’s here?” “My grandmother’s always here,” David said. He closed the door hard, and a voice from a back room immediately called, “Davy? Is that you?” “Sure, Gram. It’s me,” David called back. “I’ve brought home some company.” “I thought you would!” The shrill, old

voice cracked with a note of excitement. “I told your mother just a while ago that you’d be doing that. Bring him back here!” “It’s not a him, it’s a her,” David said. He took Susan’s arm and steered her through the living room to the bedroom doorway. “This is Sue McConnell. Sue, this is my gram, Mrs. Ruggles.” “How do you do,”

Susan said politely to the gray-haired woman in the blue flowered robe.

Mrs. Ruggles stared back at her, blankly. “Who’s she?” she asked David. “I told you, Gram, she’s Sue McConnell. She’s a friend from school.” “That’s the ‘company’?” The woman’s pale blue eyes clouded with disappointment. “That’s right,” David said. “You two visit a minute while I get something I left in my room. Then I’m walking Sue home.” “I’ll come with you,” Susan started to say, but David had already left her. There was nothing to do but to move on into the room and stand there awkwardly, trying to smile down at the woman in the chair by the window, though Mrs. Ruggles had now shifted her gaze to the empty doorway. “There’s nobody else?” “No,” Susan said apologetically. “There’s just me.” Then, as silence grew, she attempted to fill the gap by adding, “We were with a bunch of other people this afternoon, but they didn’t come back here with us.” With those words she seemed to reclaim the old woman’s attention. The pale eyes focused sharply on Susan’s face. “Did you meet Davy’s daddy?”

“No,” Susan said, bewildered. “From things David has said, I thought

his parents were separated.” “They are, but his daddy’s come back,”

Mrs. Ruggles

said. “That’s who I thought you were when he said he’d brought ‘company.” I knew he wouldn’t bring him when she was here, but with her gone to the laundry and all, it seemed the right time.” “I don’t know anything about that,” Susan said. “David hasn’t told me anything about his father being in town.” “He is, he is. I’ve got the proof of it.” There was the sound of footsteps and David appeared abruptly in the doorway. His face was pale and worried. “Gram,” he said, “has anybody been in my room today?” “Your mother changed the sheets in there. You know it’s Saturday.” “Besides that, was anyone in there?

I can’t find something I had in my bureau.” “Things get lost sometimes,” Mrs. Ruggles said. “Especially little things. They can fall down cracks.” “There aren’t any cracks in my bureau drawer, and how did you know what size it was?” He regarded her with suspicion, “Gram, have you been into my change box? Tell me the truth now.”

“Now, why would I go there?” the old woman asked innocently. “I don’t know. You tell me. Why would you?” He came over and stood beside her chair. “Look, Gram, things don’t just disappear into thin air. I had a ring in that box. What happened to it?” “Perhaps your daddy came and got it?” Mrs. Ruggles suggested. “My father? What do you mean by that?” “Now, don’t you play games with me, Davy Ruggles,” his grandmother said. “I know my own boy’s college ring when I see it.