I said: “Now, wait a minute!” and told him just exactly what had happened. That I’d said hello and that was all. That I’d been with two friends, who’d tell him the same if he’d ask them. I said: “It’s like this. I’m here and minding my business. It’s your town and I know it. But I’m damned if I’m going to get railroaded out of it over a thing like this. There’s something screwy about this.”
Len Macintosh said: “Sure there’s something screwy about this. There’s a murder and murder’s screwy to say the least. This time and every time.”
Kirby said: “Crandall called me and said you’d annoyed Mrs. Wendell on the street. If you keep on with this, Connell, he’ll have you bound over under a peace bond and it will be a heavy one. That’s what he said, if it means anything. He can do it.”
I said: “He told you what to do and you’re doing it. I catch.”
He got a dull red, and said stubbornly: “I told you how I stand heife. You know the setup. Why make it tough for me?”
I said: “Am I supposed to be arrested?”
“No.”
“Then I’m leaving. You know where you can find me.”
“It won’t be at the Three C Club,” Macintosh said, grinning.
“Why not?”
“Crandall said not, over the phone. I guess he doesn’t want to leave you any reason for sticking around town.”
I said to both of them: “Either of you tell Crandall why I’m in town?”
Macintosh shook his head and Kirby said: “I never told a soul. Not even my old lady. I keep the office and gossip apart, if you know what I mean.”
“I told nobody, either,” Macintosh said. “But Crandall knows I’m a cop that’s trying to talk to Mrs. Wendel. Isn’t that it?”
Kirby said slowly: “He didn’t say that. But I wouldn’t bet he didn’t know. He gets around; he hears things. I’ve heard the same thing, for that matter. That you’re a shamus, that is. I didn’t hear what you were here for.”
“Who told you?”
He thought a moment, said: “As I remember, the bar man in the Rustic Grill. He said something about you not taking a drink with me, that day I met you there. It was some ribbing remark about a private cop being too good to drink with the city force. I didn’t pay any attention; I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret.”
I said: “At that time I didn’t either. It’s no secret now, I can see that.”
I left there, boiling. Kirby wasn’t the type to shoot his mouth off about anybody else’s business and I didn’t think Macintosh was, either. Kewpie didn’t know a thing and so I couldn’t blame it on him.
That left Lester. And the kid might well have made some remark to that big blonde mama of his and spilled the beans. I started back to the hotel to wait for him... and I spent the time it took me to get there thinking about the things I was going to say to him.
Chapter Nine
Just before I got to the hotel I had to pass a newsstand, and I stopped there to get something to read while waiting for Lester. The magazines were spread out by the stand on a sort of platform for display and there was a brick wall back of the platform. Just the space between two stores. I got what I wanted and started to turn back to the stand to pay and something flicked the top of my ear as I did. And right then a brick in front of me spattered red dust.
I heard the gun then but until I’d put my hand up to my ear and brought it down and looked at the blood on it I didn’t realize what the sound had been. It hadn’t been loud; about like the noise a heavy whip makes when cracked.
It didn’t occur to me the slug had been aimed my way. Not in that second. But another brick, just at the side of the one already hit, chipped with another bullet and I got smart to what was going on.
I heard the sound again as I turned and ran. I ducked into the corner store... the door wasn’t more than ten feet away... and stopped inside the shadow and looked across the street.
There was a rooming house there, set above the one story store buildings. Half the windows were open and there wasn’t a way in the world of telling from which one the shot had been fired. I walked through the place, holding my hand up to my ear and stopping most of the blood, went out the side door and into the first drug store I ran into. I told the druggist: “I’ve hurt my ear. Can you put a plaster on it?”
I took my hand away, letting blood pour all over the shoulder of my coat, and he said: “You ought to go to a doctor, man!”
“Patch it up so I can.”
He led me into the back room and swabbed the ear with some antiseptic that burned like so much fire, then asked:
“How did you do it?”
“I didn’t,” I said.
“What happened, mister?”
I said: “As near as I can figure, some kid accidentally fired a twenty-two and I got in the way of it.”
He shook his head. “These damn kids. Their folks hadn’t ought to allow them to have guns. Guns are bad medicine for kids to have.”
I said that was right and thought he shouldn’t single out kids on the gun-owning business. I didn’t think any kid had owned the gun that had dusted the bricks in front of me.
He patched up the ear with tape and said: “It isn’t as bad as I thought, mister. There’s about half an inch of the top gone but it’s taken off clean. I’d go to a doctor, though, just to be sure. I can patch you up in an emergency like this, but I’m no M. D.”
I thanked him and paid him and went in the side door of the hotel. And for the first time noticed I still had the magazine I’d picked out and hadn’t paid for. I’m willing to bet that newsstand man figured I’d put on an act for his benefit but the Lord knows I hadn’t... it had been entirely for my own.
Lester got back to the room about half an hour after I did. He came in, looking guilty, and I said: “Well, did you give in yet? Are you hers and hers alone?”
He said: “No!” looked at me and the tape on my head, and said:: “What’s happened?”
“A guy shot me is all.”
“What for?”
“I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t know any reason anybody should try to do me in.”
He was jumping up and down and making motions with his arms. He dashed over to the phone, started to pick it up, and I took it away from him and said: “What are you going to do?”
“Call the police, of course.”
“I’ve talked to Kirby already.”
“Is he after the man that shot you?”
I said: “Listen, Lester! Use your head! I don’t know the man who shot me and I’ve no way of finding out who he is. At least, not right this minute. What chance has Kirby got? Why bother him about it?”
“What did you talk to him about?”
“He wants me to get out of town. At least he more than hinted that’s what he wanted. It seems I’ve lost my job and that I’m not wanted here any more.”
“Why did you lose your job?”
“Mr. Crandall doesn’t like me. That’s the only thing I can think.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched me take another drink. It was the third I’d had since being in the room and I’d lost part of my peeve. He said, seriously:
“Did you ever think, Shean, getting that job the way you did was sort of funny? You know, just walking into it like that.”
I had and it had been bothering me, puzzling me. But I said: “That’s nothing. The guy was stuck for a piano player and had to have one. That often happens.”
“That’s a better job than most of them around here, isn’t it?”