“Drunk?”
“Very. He’s at the bar, sitting on the edge of it. He’s got a Santa Claus beard on and he’s singing Coming Round the Mountain. And telling everybody that the song is written about his mountain.”
This was a new high, even for Joey. I said: “Did you see Rucci?”
“He was trying to get Joey to climb down from the bar. Joey’s got a lot of money, though, and I guess Mr. Rucci doesn’t want to make him mad so he’ll go someplace else. Every now and then Joey shouts ‘Fire in the head’ and everybody goes to the bar and has a drink. Joey pays for them.”
This was enough to get Wendel’s mind off his troubles, even if only temporarily. He asked curiously:
“What does ‘Fire in the head’ mean?”
“That’s a term hard rock miners use,” I said. “They put powder in the face of the cutting. I mean, down in the shaft they’re drilling.”
He looked bewildered and I explained: “They tunnel a shaft into the rock. Then they bore holes in the face of it and fill them with powder or dynamite. Then they light the fuses on these shots and yell ‘Fire in the head’ and everybody in the shaft runs like hell so they’ll be away when the explosion comes. Do you see now?”
He said: “Frankly, I don’t. Possibly I’m stupid.”
I didn’t give him any argument on the last. I said: “Well, when somebody shouts ‘Fire in the head’ in a bar, everybody in the place runs up to get a drink. It’s free, you see. Some wit saw the rush and thought of the mining term... or maybe it was the other way around. Anyway, it’s an old saying and everybody out here knows what it means.”
Lester said: “That’s very interesting,” and Wendel said: “I’m afraid I have no sense of humor.”
I said nothing; there was no proper answer.
We cruised around until twelve, then went to a hole in the wall and ate. I called the station and tried to get Kirby, but he’d gone home. I tried the Sheriff’s office for Macintosh and got the same answer. It didn’t make a great deal of difference; I just wanted to call in so they’d know things were moving along. I had no intention of telling them the plan I’d made for Wendell and myself.
We went back to the Three C then and Lester went in and out and reported that Joey was bogged down in a booth, with Rucci and two men he hadn’t seen before. That Joey was drunk but no drunker. I said: “Hell! That man can’t get any drunker. There’s such a thing as a saturation point.” And then, because thinking I’d seen Joey drive by me there in Reno still bothered me, I asked Wendeclass="underline" “Did you tell me Joey went to Los Angeles?”
“Why yes. He called me at least once a day from there. I judged he wasn’t drinking, either.”
Lester said the Wendel party showed signs of leaving so we drove back and past where Crandall lived. I parked in the shadow beyond the house and well away from it, and I said to Lester: “Now you sit here in the car and blow the horn if a police car comes by and stops. Then get out and run like hell. Not down the street; take off across lots. They can’t catch you then as easily.”
“Why can’t I come with you, Shean?”
“I’m going to have trouble enough looking after myself and Mr. Wendel, and I can’t take the extra chances, kid.” I realized how this would make him feel and switched the meaning with: “I can’t take chances with a bunch of cops stopping our get-away. You’ve got to stay here and give me warning.”
He said seriously: “Oh yes! The lookout man. Should I blow the horn in any sequence?”
I didn’t get it. I repeated ‘sequence’ and he said: “Why of course. You know. Like four times or three times. For the signal, you know.”
I said: “Say three times. Then run.” I didn’t have any idea of police coming but I didn’t want the kid tagging along and tripping over his shoe laces. He was blind as a bat in day time and at night he’s even worse. I’d have had to lead him by the hand, as though he were a little child.
A big sedan came down the street and turned into the Crandall drive and stopped in front of the door. We watched more lights flick on, all over the house and I said:
“Now I’m going to do some guessing. It’s a cinch the bedrooms will be on the second floor. The best, which would be the master’s bedroom, will be in the front. There’s two bedrooms in the front and that will mean that your wife, who’s the honored guest, will have one and our Mr. Crandall will have the second. How’s that for reasoning?”
Wendel said: “It seems logical.”
Lester said: “But which is the first and which is the second?”
“That’s elementary. Mrs. Wendel is a guest. She’ll naturally go to bed first, because Crandall will wander around and see that everything’s okey before he tucks in. In common politeness he’d stay up until she went to bed. Simple?”
Lester said, with admiration: “That’s pure deduction.”
Wendell said: “Humph!”
The upstairs light on the left of the house snapped on-first. We watched it. Ten minutes afterward it went out. A few minutes later the right hand one went on in turn. We watched that. In five minutes it went out. I said: “Check and double check. Mrs. Wendel would put cold cream on her face to take off the make-up. That would take a little while. Crandall would just take off his clothes and pile in bed. It proves my theory.”
I was just guessing but it sounded reasonable, even to myself. And Lester thought I was the second Sherlock Holmes and I didn’t want to disappoint him. God knows I hadn’t shown any brilliance in the case up to that time and I thought he was entitled to something that would back up his blind faith. I looked at Wendel in what little light the dash lamp gave and his face looked drawn and worried but he didn’t seem afraid. I said:
“Now look, mister. You’re not going to crack up on me in there, are you? I’m going first and see that everything’s clear, but I want you right behind me. I don’t want to look for you and find you where you don’t belong.”
He smiled a little, said: “I want to see my wife. I’d do worse than this, Mr. Connell. Don’t worry.”
Lester asked: “What are you going to do about the guards?”
“They’ll probably be in bed. If one of them sits up it’ll be in front. We’ll wait; we can tell by the lights.”
There was a light in the front room but it was turned off about then. I said: “The chances are somebody sleeps in the front room on a couch or something. Or maybe the two bozos just took a last drink. It doesn’t make any difference; we’re not going in through the front.”
The house was dark and I looked at my watch and said: “In half an hour,” and opened the glove compartment and took out a bottle. I passed it to Wendel and he shook his head... and I took his share. The more I thought of this house-breaking idea the screwier it seemed to me. My feet were getting colder than Wendel’s must have been.
The half hour finally passed and it didn’t seem like more than six. Waiting for something when you’re afraid makes time drag. But the time came and I climbed out and said: “Come on,” to Wendel.
He followed me and I told Lester to remember what he was to do and led the way toward the house. As soon as we got where Lester couldn’t hear me I kept my voice low and said to Wendeclass="underline"
“Now listen and for Christ’s sake remember it. If there’s action it’s likely to come in a bunch. If anybody shoots at us, you drop down on your face and get as close to the floor as you can. Don’t move, no matter what happens. Even if you think you can get away. The worst that can happen to you, if you’re caught, is that you’ll be put in jail. But if you run, you’re liable to get a bullet in the back and they don’t set bail on that.”
He said he understood and that he’d do it. “And if anything like that happens don’t pay any attention to me. I may run; I may not. I don’t know. You just drop flat and let the thing go on.”