The Golden Gizmo (9 page)

"Nrrrah?" he said. "Nrrrah… t'ee?" Obviously the song both haunted and tantalized him. He could neither forget it nor recall the melody.

Toddy grinned despite, or, perhaps, because of his own serious situation. It was a relief to encounter something in this house so wholly undevious and understandable. He was humming the refrain of the hymn when a curt command from Alvarado interrupted.

Lugubriously, the dog moved away. Chinless dropped into a chair, rubbing his hands. He was feeling very pleased with himself, Chinless was. His shark's grin stretched from ear to ear.

"You have had some rest? Ah, yes, I can see you have. I see,"-he took an exaggerated sniff of the air-"that you have not been alone either. The girl lost no time in approaching you."

"Maybe." Toddy couldn't smell any perfume and he didn't think Alvarado could. It wouldn't mean anything, anyway, since she'd been in the room all evening. "Maybe," he said casually. "She could have been in while I was asleep."

Alvarado chuckled. "I understand. It has been years since such matters interested me, but I understand well. She is an attractive girl. You have lost your wife-"

"Just," said Toddy, "just a few hours ago."

"My apologies. My remarks were entirely out of order."

"All right," said Toddy.

"In rejoicing one is apt to become tactless, and I have reason to rejoice, Mr. Kent. We both do. The police may not be on your trail yet, but they soon will be. There is no question about it."

Toddy stared at him incredulously. "That's supposed to be good, is it?"

"Oh, very good. It-wait, please. I shall be glad to explain. I could not seriously doubt your story tonight; not after it had been confirmed by two men who obviously hated you. But my believing was not enough. My principles would demand more than that. So, I got more, much more than I expected."

He chuckled gleefully again, then hurried on at Toddy's frown. "I registered for a room at the hotel in the same wing yours is in. It was my intention to persuade the bellboy to let me look into yours-perhaps on the pretext that I smelled smoke coming from it. I had no way of knowing what I would find, if anything, but I felt certain that-"

"Get on with it," Toddy broke in impatiently. "You did get in. What did you find?"

"But I did
not
get in. Such was not necessary. The door was open and there were men inside. Detectives, beyond a doubt. I could only see one of them, and I could overhear only a snatch of their conversation. But that was sufficient. They were looking for your wife. Patently, they had been informed of her disappearance."

"But"-Toddy frowned-"that means the body is gone."

"Yes, it is very strange," murmured Alvarado, lowering one eyelid in a wink. "Very, very strange. Who would have a motive for removing the body? Not the murderer, certainly. To do so would conflict with his reason for committing the murder. So…"

"You're forgetting just one thing," said Toddy. "I didn't know the body was missing. I thought it was still there in my room."

"Did you, Mr. Kent?"

"Yes!" snapped Toddy, and then he shrugged and lowered his voice. "Let it ride. Let's have the rest of it."

"Good," Alvarado nodded sagely. "The point is a delicate one and there is really no point in discussing it. What matters is that your wife was killed-and I know the identity of her murderer. Please!" He held up his hand. "We can have no great amount of time to act. You had best let me explain in my own way.

"When I first missed the watch this afternoon, I notified our gold-supplier immediately. I did so reluctantly. As I have indicated, the man is no friend of mine. I detest him, in fact, and the feeling is reciprocated. Under the circumstances, however, I had no choice. He has many contacts in the gold trade; you might try to dispose of the watch. Such a potentially disastrous attempt had to be stopped at all costs."

"I don't see-"

"You will, Mr. Kent. Not only is this man my enemy, but he has long been anxious to withdraw from this organization. He will not say so, of course. He is afraid to. He knows that when we are willing to dispense with a man's services we also dispense with him- permanently. As long as our organization was functioning, and unless we chose otherwise, he would have to remain part of it.

"So this afternoon, today, he saw his opportunity. We presented it to him, you and I. By killing your wife, he would force you into summary action against me to establish your own innocence. Inevitably the facts of our organization would be brought to light. It would be impossible for us to operate, if ever, for a very long time… That is why your wife was killed, Mr. Kent. So that this man might avenge himself upon me and free himself of an association which has become distasteful to him."

Toddy frowned dubiously. "I don't know," he said, slowly. "It seems to me like he had his own neck out pretty far."

"Not in his opinion. Like many persons who confess to cleverness, he is inclined to overlook the fact that others may be shrewd also. He felt certain, no doubt, that I would never see through his plan."

"Only you and they know who he is, is that right?"

"That is correct." Alvarado smiled sympathetically. "You have a right to know also, and you shall very shortly. I must lay the matter before my superiors and wait for their instructions, but that is a mere formality. The man will pay for his crime. There is not the slightest doubt about it."

"How?"

"Well"-the chinless man pursed his lips-"I imagine he will become conscience-stricken, Mr. Kent. Remorse will compel him to confess to the murder-in writing, of course-after which he will commit suicide."

He grinned mirthlessly. Toddy hesitated.

"I still don't see," he said. "I don't see why your people would go to such trouble to soak the guy. My wife meant nothing to them. He tried to get you, but you were trying to get him, too. He's never said he wanted to pull out of the racket, and-"

"I will tell you why," Alvarado interrupted. "Our work is sponsored by my government. It is a poor government, financially speaking, and an unpopular one; a ragged pariah among the commonwealth of nations. It must have gold to survive. It can get gold in this way. Lately, there have been indications that it might be able to secure loans from this country. There is much sentiment against them here, but there is some cause for hope. Can you imagine what would become of that hope if I, an agent of this already unpopular power, was charged with murder? With specifically the murder of a woman and an American citizen?"

"Yes," Toddy nodded, "I can."

"You Americans are a peculiar people, Mr. Kent. You are undisturbed by what amounts to mass murder, but let one of you be killed- -a woman, in particular-and your entire nation is one voice demanding vengeance… That is why this man will be severely and promptly punished. For actually jeopardizing the security of my government for his own purposes."

"Can you prove that he did?"

"I shall be able to. Within the next twenty-four hours, I hope. And please do not ask me how; I cannot tell you. In the meantime…"

"I'd better hide out?"

"Yes. It may not be necessary, but we can take no chances. We do not know what the police have been told. It is dangerously futile to guess. Tijuana will be safe. I have contacts there."

With a muttered word of apology, Alvarado took a bus timetable from his pocket and held it up to his eyes. He studied it, squinting, for a moment, then fitted a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles to his nose and peered at it again. Abruptly he thrust it toward Toddy.

"Will you examine this abominable thing? The fine print-even with glasses I cannot read it."

Toddy repressed a smile; the print wasn't particularly fine. "Sure," he said. "What are we looking for?"

"I thought it would be best to depart from one of the suburban stations. If you will select one, I will drive you there. I would take you all the way to Mexico, but to do so, I am afraid, might endanger both of us."

Toddy's finger traced down the columns of print, and paused. "How about Long Beach?"

"That should do, I think. When does the next southbound bus leave from there?"

"Two o'clock." Toddy glanced at his wristwatch. "About an hour from now."

"Then we had better be going. On the way I will tell you what you must do when you reach Tijuana." Alvarado rose and reached for his hat. "You have money, I believe. Good!… Come, Perrito."

The bus had arrived at six o'clock. It was now almost eight. Except for Elaine's death and his own precarious position, he would have felt pretty good. He actually felt pretty good despite those things. He had a sensation of being at peace with himself, of being able to relax after a lifetime of tension. He was not tired-he felt invigorated, in fact-yet there was a strong desire to sit here and rest. Just rest and nothing else.

And he knew that the quicker he got out of this town, the better off he'd be.

San Diego's unique semi-tropical climate was not the only thing it was noted for. Nor its great aircraft plants, nor Navy and Marines bases. Among the denizens of the world to which Toddy belonged, it was also known as a swell place to steer clear of. Its vagrancy laws were the harshest in the country. To be "without visible means of support"-a surprisingly elastic category in the hands of local cops and judges- was a major crime. In the same month here a vagrant-an unemployed wanderer-and a woman who had murdered her illegitimate baby were given identical prison sentences.

Despite the earliness of the hour, a crowd of holidayers was already waiting for the bus to the Mexican border. Toddy hesitated, thought for a moment of making the seventeen-mile trip in a cab. There'd been nothing about Elaine's death in the morning papers; apparently, there was no alarm out for him. Still-he took his place in the waiting line-he couldn't be sure. It was best to stick with a crowd.

He stood up throughout the thirty-minute ride to the border. The bus unloaded, there, on the American side, and he made himself one with the mass which crowded through the customs station.

He had no trouble in crossing the international boundary. The busy United States guard barely glanced at him as he asked his nationality and birthplace. The Mexican customs officers did not bother to do even that much. They simply stood aside as he and the others filed past.

Toddy climbed into a Mexican taxicab, jolted over a long narrow bridge, and, a minute or two later, stepped out on Tijuana's main thoroughfare. He strolled leisurely down it, a wide dirty street bordered by one- and two-story buildings which were tenanted mainly by bars, restaurants and curio shops.

It was a bullfight day, and the town was unusually crowded. Americans jammed the narrow sidewalks and swarmed in and out of the business establishments. Most signs were in English.

Toddy walked to the end of the street, to the turn which leads off to the oceanside resort of Rosarita. Then he crossed to the other side and walked slowly back. Near the center of town, he turned off onto a side street and strolled along for a few doors. He passed a curio shop, lingeringly, then paused and went back.

He entered.

The shop was stocked to the point of overflowing. Racks of beadwork, leather goods and trinkets jammed the aisles. It was almost impossible to squeeze past them. Once past, it would be impossible to be seen from the street.

A fat Mexican woman was seated on a camp stool just inside the door. She beamed at Toddy.

"Yess, please? Nice wallet? Nice bo'l of perfume for lady?"

"What have you got in the way of gold jewelry?" Toddy asked. "Something good and heavy?"

"
Nada!
Such things you could not take across the border, so we do not sell. How 'bout nice belt? Nice silver ring?"

"Oh, I guess not," said Toddy. "Not interested in anything but gold. Real gold."

"You look around," the woman beamed, placing her camp stool in front of the door. "I get nice breath of air. You may find something more nice than gold."

Toddy nodded indifferently, and squeezed his way back through the racks. A few feet, and the display suddenly ended; and a Mexican man sat on a stool against the wall, reading a copy of
La Prensa
.

He wore an open-neck sports shirt, sharply creased tan trousers and very pointed, very shiny black shoes. He was no more than five feet tall when he stood up, smiling, ducking his glossy black head in greeting.

"Mr. Kent, please? Very happy to meet you!"

He opened a door, waved Toddy ahead of him, and closed and locked it again. A courteous hand on Toddy's elbow, he guided him down a short areaway and into a small smelly room.

There was an oilstove cluttered with pots and pans, a paint-peeled lopsided icebox, a rumpled gray-looking bed. Toddy sat down at an oilcloth-covered table, smeared and specked with the remains of past repasts. His nostrils twitched automatically.

"The ventilation is bad, eh?" The Mexican showed gleaming white teeth. "But how would you? The windows must be sealed. The disorder is essential. Think of the comment if one in this country should live in comfort and decency!"

"Yeah," said Toddy uncomfortably. "I see what you mean."

The Mexican moved back toward the icebox. "It is nice to meet one so understanding," he murmured. "You will have bo'l of beer, yess? Nice cold bo'l of beer?"

Toddy shook his head; he hoped he wouldn't have to be holed up long in this joint. "I guess not. A little early in the day for-"

"No," said the Mexican. "You will have no beer."

There was not the slightest change in his humbly ironic voice. There was no warning sound or shadow. But in that last split second when escape was too late, Toddy knew what was coming. He could feel the gizmo's swift change from gold to brass.

The blow lifted him from his chair. He collapsed on the table, and the table collapsed under him. There was a muted crash as they struck the floor.

But he did not hear it.