Part 7 (1/2)

”How did Calhoun happen to be down there?” I asked. ”He's one of the town police, isn't he?”

”Just one of those things,” Ollie replied. ”He was on a fis.h.i.+ng trip too, camped right below there. The car woke him up.”

”I see. And how do they know it was a woman driving Strader's car?”

”My cook saw the car stop over there and a woman get out.”

”Was he able to describe her?”

Ollie shook his head. ”No. It was just a little after five, and that time of year it's still dark. He'd just come into the dining-room from his room in the back to start coffee, and happened to glance out the window. This car drove into the motel and parked in front of one of the rooms over there on the right. He didn't pay much attention, of course, and the light wasn't very good in that spot, but he did notice it was a woman. He thought she had dark hair, but he wouldn't swear to it. She walked across towards the office, but she didn't go in. She disappeared into that open s.p.a.ce between it and the end of the left-hand wing of the building.”

”And when the police found the car, it was parked in front of the right room? The one Strader was registered in?”

”That's right.”

I shook my head. ”It's too pat. Do they think she'd be stupid enough to drive the car right back here to the motel?”

He exhaled smoke and studied it thoughtfully. ”The theory is that she didn't know Calhoun got the license number. It's logical. She couldn't have seen him chasing her, in the dark, and he didn't shoot because he fell down and lost the gun. And if she left it somewhere else, she'd have to walk back, with the chance of being seen.”

”But she was seen. And she didn't go into the office.”

”There's a rear entrance. Out of sight from here.”

”How soon did they find the car?”

”In less than thirty minutes. As soon as Calhoun could make the town and report it, the Sheriff drove out to tell her, and see if she was all right. He didn't know but what she'd been killed too. And the first thing he saw when he drove in was that same Dade County license right there in front of Room Fourteen.”

”Was she asleep when he knocked? He'd be able to make a pretty good guess.”

”No. She was in her nightdress and dressing-gown when she came to the door, but she was wide awake.”

”Is that the straight dope? Or gossip?”

”It's just what was in the papers. That Sheriff keeps his business under his hat. And so does Redfield. Magruder talked a little, but I understand he was stepped on for it.”

”Did she explain why she was awake at that time of day?”

”Yes,” Ollie replied. ”She said it was a phone call. Just before he got there.”

”Who was it?”

”A wrong number. Or that is, the wrong motel. Some woman that sounded about half-drunk wanted to talk to a party that wasn't even registered.”

I nodded. ”So she had to shuffle through all the cards to be sure?”

”Yeah.”

Just then another customer came in. I went back across the road. Josie had been in to make up the rooms. I switched on the air-conditioner and sat down to see if I could make sense of what I was doing. The only thing that was really apparent was that I was going to get my head knocked off. In less than twenty-four hours I'd been warned by two different sets of people to leave town or get hurt. And since I had no intention of doing it, I must be crazy.

Two sets of people? Yes. It almost had to be. Redfield was a complex man I didn't understand at all yet, and potentially a highly dangerous one, but I simply couldn't believe he was corrupt-or corrupt enough to be at the bottom of all this. Maybe the savagery in him was warping his judgment, but it could be the result of an honest conviction she was guilty and that she had beaten him. Therefore, he probably didn't even know who the other was, and I did have two separate outfits bent on getting rid of me. sets of people? Yes. It almost had to be. Redfield was a complex man I didn't understand at all yet, and potentially a highly dangerous one, but I simply couldn't believe he was corrupt-or corrupt enough to be at the bottom of all this. Maybe the savagery in him was warping his judgment, but it could be the result of an honest conviction she was guilty and that she had beaten him. Therefore, he probably didn't even know who the other was, and I did have two separate outfits bent on getting rid of me.

And they might do it. I had no illusions about that. He had all the power of the Sheriff's office behind him, and some of the things he could do to you with only a slight misuse of it would make your hair curl. And as for the other one-he'd said the acid was only a hint. That was self-explanatory. And ominous.

It always led back to Langston's murder. And more and more it looked as if somebody had deliberately tried to frame her. The telephone call that morning could have been an honest mistake, but I didn't think so. It was too convenient. The woman who'd left Strader's car at the motel knew the Sheriff would be knocking on the office door inside half an hour to tell Mrs. Langston her husband was dead, and that flushed and dull-eyed appearance of having just been roused from sleep is too nearly impossible to fake to be anything but genuine. So she had to be awake. Pawing through registration cards and arguing with an apparent drunk would guarantee it.

Then, if you could a.s.sume the whole thing tied together, where did I start? There was no lead at all in the acid job. Strader, I thought. It all began with him, and whatever he'd come up here for. So far, n.o.body had found out what it was, so at least I was starting even. But Strader had come from Miami. Well, that presented no great problem. . . .

The phone rang. When I picked it up, a woman's voice said softly, ”Mr. Chatham?”

”Yes,” I said. ”Who is it?”

”You wouldn't know me, but I might be able to tell you something.”

”About what?”

”About some acid, maybe. If you thought it was worth a hundred dollars-”

She left it hanging there, and then I caught something in the background that made the pulse leap in my throat. It was the rough whirring sound of that fan with the defective bearing.

”Yes,” I said, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. ”It might be worth that. Where could I meet you?”

”You can't,” she said softly. ”I wouldn't risk it for a thousand, let alone a hundred. But if you get the money for me, I'll phone-” She stopped abruptly, gasped, and the receiver clicked as she hung up.

I dropped the instrument back on the cradle and was out the door in three strides. The entrance to the Silver King was in plain sight from here. n.o.body came out I almost ran, going across. When I pushed into the lunchroom a lone trucker was at the counter and the waitress was emerging from the kitchen with a tray. I forced myself to slow down and strolled casually into the bar.

It was empty, except for Ollie. He was disa.s.sembling and cleaning a big salt-water reel on a newspaper spread out on the bar. I looked stupidly around. He glanced up and sighed. ”Corrosion,” he said.

”Where'd she go?” I asked.

”Who?”

”The woman that just used the phone booth.”

”In here?” he stared at me, frowning. ”There hasn't been any woman here. There hasn't been anybody since just after you left.”

6

He was telling the truth, or he was one of the great actors of all time. But there had to be some explanation. He went on watching me as if I'd gone crazy as I wheeled and strode to the doorway at the rear beside the jukebox. The rest rooms were on either side of a short, dead-ended hall. They were both empty and there was no way out back here.

The kitchen, then-I came out of the hall, half-running, and then braked to a stop in front of the phone booth. It should have occurred to me before I stepped inside, took down the receiver and held it against my ear. Ollie wasn't lying; n.o.body had called from here. It had still been less than a minute, and the handset was as cool as the air-conditioned room.

Then I was going crazy, because the little fan was making exactly the noise I'd heard. And had heard the other time. There was no doubt of it. I shook my head in bewilderment and went over to the bar.

”I owe you an apology,” I said. I told him about it, without mentioning what the woman had called for.

He nodded thoughtfully. ”Then there's another one.”