Part 12 (1/2)
”What'd you want to see me for?”
”This. I'm not in a position to judge. It will be for you to decide what to do.”
Before I could ask what he was talking about, he reached for a folded newspaper and pointed to a circled item in the public notices. My fingers grew cold as I read it.Jack, will you please call me. I want to talk to you about Maureen.
There was no name, only a phone and room number. I stared at the symbols on the page as though they could tell me more.
”Sorry about the shock, old man,” he was saying. ”I knew you would want to know about this as soon as possible, but I couldn't really give any details to Miss Smythe.”
I read the ad again, not believing it, but none of the wording had changed. ”How long has it been running?”
”It started the day after you left.”
Then I stopped being stunned and things cleared up for me. ”That old b.a.s.t.a.r.d...”
”I beg your pardon?”
”Braxton must have planted it to try and trap me.”
”Who is Braxton?”
”Someone else you can check up on when you go to New York. He knew Maureen, or at least I think he did.” I settled back and told him the story of the last three nights of my life. ”The kid said they began looking for me when they noticed my ad was gone. This is probably just bait to flush me out.”
”I think not. I took the liberty of tracking down the number. It belongs to a small but respectable hotel near the Loop. When I made inquiries, I was told to go to room twenty-three, occupied by a Miss Gaylen Dumont. She arrived two days ago from New York; a semi-invalid, she takes her meals in her room and is regarded as a very quiet, trouble-free guest. The name suggests that she is a relative of Maureen Dumont.”
”Gaylen?” I repeated blankly. ”I wouldn't know, Maureen never talked about her family.”
”People who don't generally have a good reason. In the simple cause of common sense, I counsel you to be cautious about this.”
”h.e.l.l, yes, I'll be cautious. Did you learn anything else?”
”She is in her seventies, listens to dance music on the radio, and doesn't like fried foods.”
”How did you-”
”It is amazing how much one can learn from a hotel's staff when the right questions are applied in the right manner. Have you any reason to think that Braxton might be connected with this woman?”
”If he knew Maureen, he might know this Gaylen. I just don't know.””This could be bad timing or coincidence, but it will be safer if you a.s.sume it is not. You removed your ad and some people noticed.”
”Yeah, but not the one that mattered.” The paper twitched in my hands. ”I'm checking on this first thing tomorrow night. Want to come along?”
”I was leaving for New York tomorrow, or rather today, but I can postpone the trip if you wish.”
”No, I couldn't ask you to do that. I guess I can handle one old lady.”
Escott looked out the front window. ”Jack, it's getting lighter. If you've no other place to stay, perhaps we should move you in now.”
”Jeez, I forgot.”
My second trunk went into the bas.e.m.e.nt next to the first, and between us we emptied the car of thirty-six bags of earth, piling them neatly in a corner. The faint gray of dawn was just beginning to hurt my eyes when we finished. Escott dusted his hands off.
”I'll bid you good morning now, I still have some cleaning up to do.”
”It won't disturb me,” I a.s.sured him.
”No, I daresay it would not. Pleasant dreams.” He climbed the bas.e.m.e.nt steps and shut the door.
As long as I had my soil around me I was past the point of being able to dream.
All the speculations tumbling through my brain would have only given me nightmares, anyway. There were some compensations to my condition, I thought as I wearily lowered the lid of my trunk to hide for another day.
Chapter 6.
ABOUT THIRTEEN HOURS later I emerged from the bas.e.m.e.nt, drawn by the swish-and-crinkle sound of pages being turned. Escott was in the parlor, half-buried in a drift of newsprint.
”I thought you'd be on a train by now,” I said, dropping into a leather chair next to his radio.
He gave out with a slight shrug. ”I seem to be acquiring your habits. I was up late and overslept.”
”The whole day?”
”Most of it. Knocking down walls is a very exhausting exercise. This afternoon was too late to make a good start, and by then my curiosity about Gaylen Dumont had grown considerably. If she has any useful information it could save me much trouble. I'd like to meet her, but if you would rather go alone, please don't hesitate to say so. I shall be more than happy to wait here for your return.”
”Nothing doing, I could use the moral support.”
He looked relieved, but covered it by picking up his cold pipe and fiddling with it.
”I'll do my best.”
The papers weren't thrown about haphazardly, but shuffled into stacks on the sofa and floor. A neat pile was on one end of the table, each refolded so that it was open to the personal column. I flipped through them, and each had the same ad he'd shown me the night before.
”They are all the papers that you had used,” he pointed out. ”Either she knew which ones or she is remarkably thorough.”
”I'll find out.”
His phone was clinging to a dingy wall in the kitchen, which he hadn't gotten around to repainting yet. With one of the papers in hand, I carefully dialed the number. A professional voice answered, identifying the West Star Hotel and asked if it could help me. I asked for room twenty-three and heard clicking sounds.
After five rings a woman said h.e.l.lo. Her voice jarred me to the core because it was Maureen's voice. I bit my tongue and counted to five until I could respond normally.
”I'm calling about the ad. I think I'm the Jack you want to talk to.”
There was a pause at the other end and I heard a long, soft sigh being released.
”Jack,” she finally said. ”Could you prove that somehow? I've had two crank calls already.”
It wasn't Maureen. The voice and inflection were very similar, but this one had the reedy quality of age in it. ”How can I do that?”