Give Up the Body (18 page)

I straightened up and turned around, presenting a more dignified view. “A fine eye for a female you have, Jeff Cook,” I said scornfully.

“O’Hara!” He grinned. He looked bright and cheerful. “Did Glory bequeath the satin to you?”

I told him what had happened. He nodded and went through an exaggerated session of studying me from all angles. “I like you better this way,” he said at last. “Now can I have my pajamas back?”

“Sit down and eat,” I said. “I suppose we should call Tiffin now.”

“No,” Jeff said. “She left for a reason, O’Hara. If we give her enough of the proverbial rope we may lasso her with it.”

“But she has Nellie,” I wailed.

“You have me and Bosco,” Jeff said consolingly. He began to eat. He had a fine appetite. I worked on my usual breakfast of toast and coffee and thought how nice it was not to be eating alone. Even if he was cleaning out my entire larder.

Jeff decided to talk between bites. “Wonder if analysis will show bloodstains on those clothes?”

“Is that your usual line of breakfast chatter? Anyway, we won’t have them long enough to find out.”

“You think I’m going to turn them over to Tiffin?” Jeff wagged his head violently. “Not a chance. I’m going to Portland and have them analyzed at once at a lab. Tiffin might forget he had them if we turn them in.”

“I’m willing,” I agreed. “What about the chopper?”

“Now I have an idea,” Jeff said too sweetly. I waited, suspicious of his ideas. “You,” he said, “can dispose of that for me.”

“Go on.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “When you go to the ranch today, just heave the chopper in the pond.”

“Thanks,” I said. “What makes you think I’m going back to the ranch?”

“Someone has to. They’ll be dragging the pond today,” he said. “Besides, you might get some of the answers to Glory’s questions.”

“While you do what?”

“While I go to Portland and get those clothes analyzed. And do a little checking on Willow and Delhart. The Press will probably have printed reams on them from the past few years. Delhart was always news and Willow made sure he got into the papers at every opportunity.”

“All right,” I said. I was a little mollified. “Let me know how I can reach you.”

Jeff gave me the address of the hotel where he lived. “It’s not much of a place,” he said. “But the bed is better than a certain cot I can name.”

That made me feel mean again, so I poured him another cup of coffee. If Jeff had been allowed to sleep on the couch Glory might not have sneaked away. But I didn’t feel mean for long, because right then her disappearance seemed little more than a nuisance.

Jeff helped me with the dishes and then left for Portland. I had to block the doorway to get him to kiss me goodbye. I didn’t ask him, of course. I simply said, “You could at least compliment me on the breakfast. You ate enough of it.”

“That is a compliment in itself, O’Hara. You’re a fine cook. Don’t lose the knack.” He grinned and, picking me up by the elbows, moved me away from the door. In the process he kissed me nicely. “That’s what you really wanted,” he said jauntily. “Don’t get arrested, O’Hara.” And he walked out!

When I had cooled below the simmering stage I managed to plan my day. I had a good outline made by the time I was dressed. Since Jeff was to be in Portland, I put on an old, comfortable suit and a pair of low shoes. I put the green satin pajamas in a drawer. I discovered Jeff had forgotten to recover his nice white ones so I put them alongside. Whatever else I got out of this case I knew I couldn’t lack sleeping apparel for some time to come. After making the bed, I went to the office.

“Fine thing,” Jud greeted me, “making a man sleep between rough blankets in his shorts.” He took a deep sniff of liquor from his smelling bottle. Since I made no comment, he said, “Well, what’s for today?”

“I thought I’d go back to the ranch and cover the dragging of the lake and maybe get a few interviews,” I suggested.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Things are slack, anyway.” He tossed a copy of The Press at me. “I see where the inquest comes off tomorrow.”

A glance at the paper showed me that Jeff had done me another dirty trick. He had them couple my name with his on that story with the potent lead. When Tiffin saw that he would really come down on me. There was also a story about me “rescuing” the corpse, and a full page of pictures showing all the principals. They even had an old WAC photo of me, and I wasn’t flattered a bit.

As Jud had said, the inquest was called for the next day. It was a Saturday. It seemed like fast action but I realized the persons involved were all of sufficient importance to get what is known as a courtesy.

“Can I borrow your car?” I asked Jud.

“Going after Nellie? Glory has a big head start on you, Addy. It was before seven o’clock when she went by.”

“No,” I said. “I’ll have to let Nellie go. I …” The squeal of brakes outside interrupted me. Tiffin and Jocko came stalking in before the horrible sound had died away. Tiffin was yellow with rage and even Jocko looked peeved at me.

I smiled sweetly and waited.

“You’re under arrest,” Tiffin announced nastily.

“W
ELL
,” I S
AID DEFENSIVELY
, “it was a good story and I’d write it again.”

Tiffin looked at the copy of The Press I was holding. “And that’s another thing!”

“Another thing?” I echoed. “What else am I pinched for?”

Jocko shook his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have lied to us, Addy. It ain’t right.”

“When did I lie, Jocko?” For a moment I was genuinely bewildered. Then Tiffin flashed an official looking document at me and I woke up.

“This is a search warrant, Adeline. And we used it.” He waved the warrant at me.

“Without serving it on me, I see,” I said. But my voice was a little weak. It was too late now for me to quibble over a technicality I was not really too certain of anyway.

“We used it all right,” Tiffin howled. I thought for a moment he would foam at the mouth. He looked positively wild.

I tried to be cool. I was beginning to think again. I realized that since Glory was not there—was out in my Nellie, in fact-he could hardly have found her in my place. Unless she had come back as soon as I left. I hastily dismissed the idea. If only to indulge in wishful thinking.

I said, “Lower your voice, Godfrey, or you’ll wake yourself up.” I sat on the edge of my desk and opened my purse for a cigaret. I shut it hastily when I saw the chopper ensconced there. If Tiffin found that I would be finished.

I held tightly to the purse. “Give me a cigaret, Jud,” I said. When I had lighted it, I looked again at Tiffin. “What did you find, Godfrey? My secret shame?”

Jocko sighed and looked miserable. I felt sorry for him. He was an old friend and he thought I had let him down. Maybe I had, and I vowed I would make it up to him if I could. But not as long as he let Godfrey Tiffin stay around to take all the credit and twist evidence to fit his own pet theories.

“Find?” It was Tiffin howling again. “We found blonde hair on a pillow.” He waved an envelope at me. Presumably it contained the blonde hair. “And we found green satin pajamas in a drawer—with G. M. monogrammed on them. Now, Adeline!”

“Now, Addy,” Jocko reproved me sadly.

“And what’s more,” Tiffin said, glaring at me. “We found a pair of men’s pajamas initialed J. C.” There was such a look of outraged virtue on his ugly face that I nearly laughed aloud. But when he said, “Now explain that,” I got mad.

“The J. C. means Jeff Cook,” I said, “And what will you do about it? I’ll explain nothing, you … you …” I couldn’t think of a sufficiently descriptive oath so I stopped and took a deep breath. I was so angry I shook. I jumped off the desk and ran at him. “And you get your dirty mind out of here right now!”

Tiffin looked a little surprised at the whirlwind he had stirred up. It took a little urging from Jocko to turn him toward the door. He went out hastily.

“He can’t help it,” Jocko said apologetically. “And maybe you can’t blame him. He’s got a job to do, Addy.”

“Jeff Cook stayed here last night,” Jud said.

Jocko looked relieved and then tried to hide it. “Now,” he protested, “Tiff didn’t mean anything. It’s got nothing to do with this, anyway.”

“If Tiffin wants to arrest me and flaunt my virtue in court, let him. The Press will have a field day with it.”

“Now,” Jocko said placatingly. “But this Martin matter is different, Addy.”

“I didn’t lie,” I insisted. “I had no idea she was there when you and Tiffin asked me last night. Jeff and I found her in my house. She was dead drunk. Her station wagon was wrecked at the edge of town, by the way.”

“You should have called us,” Jocko said.

“I know,” I admitted, looking penitent. “But she was so tight we couldn’t wake her up. We let her sleep. And when I got up this morning, she was gone. In my slacks.” I said nothing about Nellie. The less they had to go on the better. “I suppose,” I added, “she’s back to the ranch by now—since she’s sober.”

“I doubt if Tiffin will press any charges against you,” Jocko said. “Unless he claims you told her to come to your place when you were with her yesterday.”

“I didn’t,” I said. “And he can’t prove I did.”

“Did she say anything last night?” Jocko was about as sly as an elephant at a dance.

“She was drunk—out.”

He seemed to believe me. He took a big plug of tobacco from his pocket and bit off a chew. He had it worked down satisfactorily before he spoke. He said, “Inquest at ten, Addy. You’ll be called.”

“I’ll be there,” I said. I was almost weak with relief. To spend time in jail now, with things as they were, what a mess that would be! I wondered how long Jocko would calm Tiffin for me. Jocko was my friend, but he was a law officer first.

“I’m going out to the ranch now,” I said. Jocko nodded. He turned to the door and I remembered something. “Has Tiffin got those pajamas as evidence?”

“Both pairs,” Jocko admitted. “Addy!” he protested as I flew past him.

Tiffin was sitting in the police car. I jerked open the rear door. “You give those pajamas back to me, Godfrey!”

“Leave those alone!” he shouted as I grabbed them from the seat.

I hugged them to me and backed away. He came out of the car after me. “They’re mine,” I said. A few of Teneskium’s citizens were collecting curiously. I raised my voice deliberately. “Trying to steal a poor girl’s clothes. Do you want me to sleep naked? Do you want me to catch pneumonia?”

Tiffin looked at me and then at the people. He was embarrassed. “Yes,” he said. “I wish you would catch pneumonia. Right now.”

Jocko came and rescued Tiffin before I could say any more. He dragged Tiffin into the car and they took off rapidly, Tiffin waving his arms wildly as they went. I looked at the crowd, about twelve people now. “Thanks, folks,” I said. I went back into the shop.

Jud was sniffing his whiskey and laughing at me. “Poor Tiffin! It’s a time he’ll never forget, tangling with you, Addy. ‘Do you want me to sleep naked?’ ” he mimicked. He stopped laughing suddenly. “Be careful or he will lock you up. Jocko can’t buck Tiffin too much.”

I put the pajamas on my desk and held out my hand. “Give me your car keys, Jud. I’ll go and bother him some more.”

He gave me the keys. “Nellie was heading in the direction of the ranch.” He paused, then said, “Nice fellow, that Cook.”

“His pajamas are comfortable,” I said grandly, and picking up Bosco, I sailed out.

Jud’s car was faster than Nellie, and much quieter. It took only a few minutes to make the trip. Leaving Bosco in the sun I got out by the bridge and went down to the little river beach. I scuffed out the remaining evidences of our fire of early morning and then took the path that led to the ponds. I halted and looked about as I reached the junction. I could see no one and so I followed the gravel toward the dam, paralleling the path but staying in the trees.

When I reached the spot opposite the place where I had found the clothes I stopped and took the chopper from my purse. It was very still here in the forest. There was no wind. The quietness began to work on my nerves, and I was glad I held the weed chopper. The weight of it gave me a feeling of confidence. I was thinking that my name on the newspaper story denying Tim Larson’s guilt could easily mark me to the murderer.

But I could not stand there holding the knife indefinitely. I had to get rid of it quickly. I glanced around me; I saw nothing. Shivering, I took a deep breath, grasped the chopper by the leather thong, and swung my arm. The knife sailed out in a smooth arc, turned end over end, flashing sunlight, splashed into the water.

I held my breath. Had someone seen that flash? I waited tensely for something to happen. It did.

There was a sharp crackling sound as of someone stepping in the dry ground cover. “That wasn’t very smart.”

I turned around slowly. I could feel myself sweating, though it was a cool day. Arthur Frew stood not five feet away, looking sourly at me.

“Not smart at all,” he said in his sullen voice. “The police are at the house.”

It was like moving through heavy water to listen to him. He had such a dull nastiness in his speech. And, I thought, if he is the murderer he has seen me with the knife. He’ll think I know things … I said aloud, “What are you doing here, getting lost again?” It was a poor defense.

He smiled nastily. “I’m looking out for myself and my friends.”

“Fair enough,” I said. My mouth was so dry I was surprised I could talk. He looked bigger than I remembered him. “Only this is a funny place to be doing it.”

He simply stood there. It was very still again. I could not help noticing the meanness of his eyes. A little breeze rose, rustling the treetops over us, and the noise made me start a little.

He said then, “Come on. I want to talk to you.”

His voice was not so ominous, but peremptory. Now I was beginning to be irritated. But when he turned in the direction of the river beach I followed. I had to go back there anyway, I excused myself.

We stumbled over fallen logs and around thickets of brush and finally reached the path that angled from the ponds to the beach. He seemed to know his way around fairly well for a man who had been lost such a short time ago.