Part 20 (2/2)

She cracked. All the bra.s.s melted at once and she began to whimper. ”What do you want me to do?”

”That's better,” I said. I want you to call Frankie. If his wife answers the phone, don't say anything. I'll ask for him myself, because she might recognize your voice. As soon as we get hold of him, you do the talking. Here's what you say.” I told her. ”You got it?”

She nodded.

”All right,” I said grimly. ”And remember. If you try to tip him off, G.o.d help you. The State can't kill me any deader than Redfield.”

I dialed the number and held the instrument so she could speak into it and we could both hear. Crossman himself answered.

”Listen, Frankie,” she said hurriedly. ”Pearl just called from town, and he's on his way out here now. He said he tried to get you, but you didn't answer-”

”He hung up before I could get to the phone,” Frankie grumbled. ”What is it?”

I don't know, except something's gone wrong. All he said was he was leaving right then and for me to call you and keep calling till I got you, if I had to try every place in town. Don't tell anybody, not even your wife, but just get out here as fast as you can.”

”I'll be right there,” Frankie said. He hung up.

I replaced the instrument and looked at my watch. It was 12:47. We were cutting it dangerously fine. She'd said Pearl sometimes came home as early as one. It would take Frankie a couple of minutes to dress, and then Calhoun would wait two or three more. It was very still in the room. I was hot in the flannel jacket. Sweat ran down my face. My hands were so stiff now I could hardly close them.

”How long have you been living with Pearl?” I asked Trudy.

”Three or four months,” she said defiantly. Then she started to whine again. ”I didn't have nothin' to do with anything. I came here from Tampa.”

”When did T.J. show up?”

”About the same time. He was in a cuttin' sc.r.a.pe up in Georgia.”

They were small change, I thought. I had to have the three big ones, and some kind of proof, and even then it might do me no good at all.

”What's in the safe?” I asked.

”I don't know,” she replied sullenly.

”What's in the safe?” I repeated harshly, taking a step towards her.

”Honest to G.o.d.” She began to whine again. ”He never lets n.o.body see in it. Or watch him open it. That Miz Redfield offered me three hundred dollars if I could steal the combination-” She stopped abruptly.

”Why?” I asked. ”What did she want with it?”

She retreated into sullen stupidity. ”I don't know. But Pearl carries it in his head. n.o.body'll ever know it but him.”

I looked at my watch again. It was 12:55. Calhoun should be talking to Mrs. Crossman now. And Frankie should be here any moment. ”When Mrs. Crossman calls,” I told Trudy, ”tell her Frankie's not here and Pearl's not here. Nothing else. Got it?”

She nodded. We went on waiting in hot, bright silence.

The phone rang. I nodded, and she picked it up. I stood beside her with my ear close to the edge of the receiver.

”This is Bessie Crossman,” a woman's voice said. ”Is Frankie there, Trudy?”

”No,” Trudy replied. ”He hasn't been here.”

”You don't know where Pearl is?” I shook my head. She replied no.

”I'm worried. He got a phone call and rushed off somewhere, and then Calhoun come looking for him just a few minutes later.”

It was beginning to work. I motioned for Trudy to hang up.

Almost at the same instant Georgia Langston said quietly at the side window, ”Car turning in, Bill.”

”Right,” I said. ”Stay out of sight. Don't come in unless I call you.”

I strode to the corner beside the door, where I could watch Trudy and was out of sight from the windows. ”Stay right where you are,” I ordered. ”And don't say a word.”

The car came on and stopped under the tree near the corner of the front porch. Hurrying footsteps sounded in the hall, and Frankie came in. ”Hey, Trudy, hasn't Pearl got here?”

I put a hand in his back and pushed. ”You're the first, Frankie. Come on in.”

He whirled, and the dark and bony face was mean as he caught sight of me. The lip was swollen where I'd hit him in the bar. He was wearing only khaki trousers and s.h.i.+rt, and I could see no place he could be carrying a gun, but I whirled him around against the wall and shook him down anyway. He had nothing except a knife. I threw it under the bed at the back of the room and returned the revolver to my pocket.

He looked from me to Trudy, and back again. ”What the h.e.l.l's all this? Where's Pearl?”

”He'll be here, Frankie,” I told him. ”And Cynthia, I hope. Too bad Strader can't come. You could have a reunion.”

Fear showed on his face for an instant. He whirled on Trudy. ”Why, you little s.l.u.t!” ”Why, you little s.l.u.t!”

She shrilled at him, ”He made me call you!”

”Who killed Langston?” I asked. ”All of you?”

”I don't know what you're talking about.”

”Who hit the truck driver too hard?”

”You must be nuts.”

”It makes no difference,” I said. ”You know that. All of you take the rap, regardless of who hit him.”

I was wasting time with Frankie. He had realized by now that Trudy had told me nothing. ”Turn around,” I said. ”Against that wall.”

He glared, about ready to jump me. I was too tired to want to fight him. I took the sap from my pocket and swung it in my hand. ”Turn around, Frankie.” He turned. I tied his hands with another strip of the sheet and stuck a wad of it in his mouth and made it fast. I shoved him onto the sofa, and turned to the girl.

”Call the Silver King and ask for Pearl. Here's what you say.” I told her carefully, and then repeated it. ”You got it?”

She began to cry. ”He'll kill me.”

”He won't be able to. Call him.” She still hesitated, deathly afraid of him. ”Call him!” I said harshly. My nerves were about ready to snap.

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