Ross Macdonald - 1960 - The Ferguson Affair (35 page)

BOOK: Ross Macdonald - 1960 - The Ferguson Affair
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“That’s
possible, too.”

 
          
Wills
went away at last. I undressed with shaking hands. The head nurse came in to
fix my bed and give me hell. Dr. Root dropped by and gave me hell. Sally came
up in a wheelchair and gave me hell.

 
          
Very mild hell.
She had the baby with her. I passed out more
or less content, wishing my little nameless girl a better fate than some.

 
Chapter
30

 
          
FERGUSON
HIRED DETECTIVES. The FBI entered the case on the grounds that Gaines and Hilda
were in unlawful flight. In two days the various agencies established that the
pair had crossed no borders, taken no planes; and were not walking the streets
of Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Salt Lake City,
Reno, Las Vegas, Phoenix, Albuquerque, New York, Miami, or Boston.

 
          
Dr.
Root let me out of the hospital on the afternoon of the third day. I found
Ferguson’s check for two thousand dollars waiting in my office mail, and later
used it to make a down payment on a house.

 
          
That
same afternoon I asked Mrs. Weinstein to place a second call to Michael Speare
in Beverly Hills. I was remembering things.

 
          
Speare
hadn’t been in his office all day. His secretary, if that is what she was,
finally relinquished his private number. I reached him there at seven o’clock
at night.

 
          
He
greeted me over the wire like a long-lost brother. “Good to hear from you,
Bill. I’ve been following your adventures in the newspapers.
Greatest
thing since Pearl White in Plunder.”

 
          
“Thanks.
I want to talk to you as soon as possible.
Tonight.”

 
          
“Go
right ahead.”

 
          
“In person.”

 
          
“What about?”

 
          
“Certain phases of my adventures involving you.”

 
          
“You
mean Holly and this Gaines character? I’ve been thinking maybe I made a mistake
about them. They probably weren’t as close as I imagined, you know how it is.”

 
          
“I
know how it is, Speare. That’s just one of the things we have to discuss.”

 
          
He
was silent for nearly a minute. Then he said in a chastened tone: “As a matter
of fact, I’ve
been wanting
to talk to you.
How’s about coming over for a drink?”

 
          
“You
come here. I’m not driving yet.”

 
          
I
told him how to find my office, and he agreed to be there in an hour. Shortly
after eight o’clock I heard a racing motor die coughing in the street.
Something told me it would be Speare. Through the window I watched him
disembark from a low-slung silver car and take off his helmet and goggles.

 
          
In
the full light of the anteroom I saw that he was a worried man. He had been
treating his worry with alcohol, more alcohol than he could have drunk in an
hour. When I ushered him into my private office I could smell his breath. He
sat down as if he had eggs in his pockets. I shut the door. The sound of it
made him jump.

 
          
“About
those little discrepancies, Bill, you got to understand. I had a lot at stake
in Holly’s career. Things have been tough in my business the last five years.
And you got to admit I was only telling you what you wanted to hear.”

 
          
“Just
don’t tell me any more lies.”

 
          
His
face crumpled and
uncrumpled
. “Is this room bugged?”

 
          
“No.”

 
          
“How
do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

 
          
“That’s
not our problem. How well did you know Larry Gaines?”

 
          
“You
don’t expect me to answer that one, do you? He’s wanted for a list of crimes as
long as your arm. I’m not responsible for the morals of people I do business
with.”

 
          
“You
did business with Gaines?”

 
          
He
caught himself up. “No. He came to me, wanted me to represent him. I didn’t
think he had it. Besides, I didn’t like his looks. I wouldn’t touch him.”

 
          
“I
heard different.”

 
          
“Oh?”
His webbed eyeballs rolled.
“Who from, Bill?”

 
          
I
left his question hanging. “Why did Gaines pick you out to represent him?”

 
          
“It’s
a long and sordid story. I don’t mean I did anything out of line. I was only
trying to protect my client.”

 
          
“Then
you don’t have any reason to suppress it. And you might as well tell the truth
the first time around. If we have to go around a second time, we’ll do it up
the street at the police station.”

 
          
“That’s
a hell of a way to treat a man, when I came here willingly to co-operate.”

 
          
“Then
co-operate.”

 
          
His
eyes, his entire face, even his bald spot, had a fine glaze on them, like
well-fired pottery. He rose and took a few steps away from me and then came
back. He leaned on the top of my desk. “I came here to co-operate. I’m in a
worse bind than you know. The whole thing started early last spring before
Holly left me. That sister of hers, the one you’re looking for, ran up some
bills in Palm Springs stores, using Holly’s name. I hired a detective to track
the sister down. If she got into the papers, it wouldn’t be good. The sister
was traveling with Gaines at the time—he was the one who put her up to the con
game—and they gave my gumshoe quite a chase, all the way across the country.

 
          
“I
kept the gumshoe after them because when he found out what they were doing, it
looked pretty serious.

 
          
“He
traced them to San Antonio and dug up a dentist there who’d put crowns on
Hilda’s teeth, Hollywood style. The dentist led him to a crooked plastic
surgeon
who
specialized in fugitives from justice.
He’d given Hilda a nose bob and some other touches, working from a photograph
of Holly. From San Antonio the two of them went to Houston, where she promoted
herself a wardrobe.
Then on to sucker-land.

 
          
“The
suckers in Miami weren’t having any, not the respectable ones with the big
money. Hilda looked like Holly, but she lacked the class. She had to settle for
fringe benefits, using Holly’s name to gamble on. She fell into the hands of a
cookie named
Salaman
—the hood they arrested in L.A.
the other day. When my man caught up with her finally, she was living with
Salaman
, paying off the interest on the money that she owed
him. She was still using Holly’s name, and
Salaman
thought he was sleeping with a star, bragging around town about it. I flew to
Miami the end of August to put a stop to it.”

 
          
“Why
didn’t you put a stop to it?”

 
          
“I
did. At least I thought I did. I gave her twenty-four hours to crawl back into
the woodwork and stop damaging my client.”

 
          
“Holly
wasn’t your client at the end of August.”

 
          
“I
know, but I was hoping to get her back. And I anticipate what you’re going to
say, that I was too softhearted. I should have turned Hilda and Gaines over to
the police, and saved us all a lot of tragedy. I’ve always been too softhearted
where women—”

 
          
I
cut him short. “What happened after that?”

 
          
“Nothing.
I paid the detective off, with my own money, and
flew on home.”

 
          
“Will
he confirm your story?”

 
          
“Certainly, if you could reach him.
Only, he’s retired to
Honolulu.”

 
          
“What’s
his name?”

 
          
“Smith.
I forget his first name.”

 
          
“I
know a police detective named Wills,” I said. “If I can’t get the truth out of
you, he can.”

 
          
“The
truth is all I’ve been telling you.”

 
          
“Tell
me more of it.”

 
          
“You
can’t get blood out of a stone, Bill.”

 
          
I
picked up my phone, dialed the police station, and asked for Lieutenant Wills.
The desk sergeant said I could probably get him at home.

 
          
Speare
seized my arm and spilled whisky-flavored words over my face. “Listen, no cops,
the publicity would ruin me. Hang up.”

 
          
He
spoke with the sincerity of panic. I hung up.

 
          
“You
got to understand, Bill. How could I tell it was going to turn out the way it
did? I thought I was acting in Holly’s best interests. She married an old man
for his money. I thought she’d be better off working, in fact I know it. I know
my clients like a book, better than they know themselves.”

 
          
“What
did you do? I think I know, but I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

 
          
“Nothing much.
I brought Gaines and Hilda back here and kept
them on the hook for a while, wondering what to do with them. Some way or other
they got the idea that I’d be pleased and happy if Holly’s marriage didn’t work
out too well. I talk too much sometimes when I’ve been drinking—”

 
          
“I’ll
translate that. You blackmailed Gaines and Hilda into coming out here and
trying to break up Holly’s marriage.”

 
          
“That’s
a rough way to put it, Bill. Gaines needed no urging. He had his own ideas
about Holly May. I think he got delusions of grandeur traveling with her
double. He told me one night when he was high that he was going to take her
away from Ferguson and marry her himself.”

 
          
“What
was he high on?”

 
          
“Heroin.
They both take heroin when they can get it.”

 
          
I
stood up behind my desk. Speare sat down quickly, for fear I was going to hit
him. I almost hit him anyway, with my left hand. “That was a fine plan you had,
turning loose two hopped-up criminals on your ex-client.”

 
          
“It
wasn’t such a good idea, Bill. I didn’t know it was going to turn out this
way.” His face had broken up like crackleware. “Look. I’ll make a deal with
you. Forget about this little business, keep my name out of it, and I’ll give
you something you really want.”

 
          
“I
have everything I really want.”

 
          
“You
don’t have Gaines and the woman,” he said softly.

 
          
“You
know where they are?”

 
          
“I
might.”

 
          
“Let’s
have it.”

 
          
“I
said a deal. If this thing spills in the L.A. press, I’m a nothing man, I’m
dead. I’m back selling stockings from door to door.”

 
          
“Have
you sold stockings from door to door?”

 
          
“Not
in recent years, but my uncle does. I guess I can always get my old job back,
if you insist on ruining me.” He watched me through his pathos. He was sobering
up. “Do I deserve to be ruined, Bill?”

 
          
“Stop
calling me Bill.”

 
          
“Whatever you say.
Do we make a deal?”

 
          
I
gave it some thought. It didn’t take much thought, with the entire country
being ransacked for the pair.

BOOK: Ross Macdonald - 1960 - The Ferguson Affair
5.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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