“Okay, maybe it seems like I’m telling tales out of school, but I don’t want Larry to get into more trouble than he’s already bought. I don’t know what you think of my brother, Cooperman, but he’s my brother. My guess is that if he gives back the money he’s taken, maybe things won’t be so bad for him up here. I mean, a life of hiding is unthinkable.”
“Uh-huh. So you decided to tell me about it?”
“I told you everything I know. All I’m saying is I had this call and I thought you should know that he’s in Daytona Beach, Florida. Or at least that’s where the call came from.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he was sorry for what he’s putting us through.”
“All heart, isn’t he?
“Look, I called you because I thought you’d understand. I don’t need any additional insults from the public these days. I’ve had my fill.”
“Okay, okay. What else did he say?”
“He said he won’t be coming back to face the music. Not yet anyway.”
“What do you want me to do with this information? The phone number of Niagara Regional isn’t unlisted.” I pulled out a cigarette from the pack on the chair and lit it while waiting for Nathan Geller to find an answer. My mouth felt sticky and my teeth mossy. The room was illuminated by the street light across the street, which flashed an elongated version of my window across the far wall and onto the door.
“I thought you might go down there, try to talk some sense into him.”
“I see. Are you going to foot the bill, or do you expect my clients to pay my way?”
“You know I haven’t got any money. I’m no millionaire.”
“I never knew anybody who ever thought he was. Everybody’s just getting by. But you think I should go, eh?”
“It might cut this whole thing short.”
“Where do you propose I start looking? I’ll bet he didn’t give you his address and postal code.”
“Well, you’re supposed to be a detective, aren’t you? It can’t be that big a place. You’ll find him.”
“I guess I can get the phone company down there to tell me about long distance calls to Grantham tonight.”
“Can you do that? I didn’t know it was so easy. Great!” He made “Great” sound like “What, cabbage again?”
I got off the phone, waited a minute, then called him back. As I guessed, he was on the phone to someone else. I knew the line would be busy. I finished the cigarette in the dark, then pulled the covers over me and tried to get back to sleep. I worked at it for about ten minutes, but it wouldn’t take. I turned the bed light on and read the first chapter of a Ruth Rendell mystery I’d been saving.
* * *
At a quarter after eleven I was in the United Cigar Store practising my coffee-drinking on a second cup, when Pete Staziak slid onto the pedestal stool next to me.
“Good-morning.” I returned the greeting and tried to find evidence of Pete’s state of mind in his face. He looked like he hadn’t been up all night. He hadn’t cut himself shaving, and his breakfast wasn’t drying on his tie. I asked him what was on his mind. I always did that when the Holmesian stuff didn’t pay off.
“You know who’s on my mind: Larry Geller. Not only do we have a fraud situation in this town the like of which hasn’t been seen since William Drummond Beal sold City Hall on a domed sports stadium …”
“The less said about that the better.”
“… but we are also trying to keep a rising tide of public indignation from slopping over the weir. You saw what happened outside the Geller place yesterday.”
“Can’t you get them to leave town until things blow over?”
“What we’ve got over on Burgoyne Boulevard,” Pete said, “is either a very gutsy dame or a boneheaded bitch. Frankly I can’t tell which.”
“They’re within their rights to stay.”
“That’s right, and I’m within my rights when I balk at having three men permanently detailed to that place. That’s three men that could be used in better ways.”
“Hell, I can rattle my own doorknob,” I said. Pete gave me a look. “Just trying to help out.” I took a fresh breath. “Pete, for God’s sake remember: nothing lasts. That includes public indignation. The hardest expression to sustain is one of prolonged outrage. So take it easy.”
“You must have read that somewhere.”
“Sure I did. Look, Pete, I got a call last night from Nathan Geller telling me he had a call from his missing brother.” Pete’s eyes took on a glint which wasn’t all reflection from the overhead lights.
“Where was he supposed to be calling from?”
“Daytona Beach.”
“Yeah, a lot of them do end up down there. And there’s a certain tension between their police forces and ours. Frankly they’re a bit galled by the fact that our bandits are starting colonies down among their sheltering palms. You can’t blame them.”
“But you don’t think that Geller’s there?”
“Come on, Benny. You don’t either. Since when does the family offer tips like that? It’s like going to the chief of police to announce you didn’t rob a bank. There’s something wrong with the way it bounces.”
“But you’ll check it out.” Pete looked at me like I was having trouble seeing red STOP signs.
“Sure I’ll check it out. We follow up all leads no matter how seemingly idiotic. There’s no guessing the simplicity of some of the bandits I’ve put away. They think that if nobody saw them pinch the money or forge the paper that they’ve escaped detection forever. Even some of these computer operators. They’re supposed to be brainy types, aren’t they? Well, some of them behave like we’re still dazzled by anything that lights up, flickers and moves.”
“Now you’re going to hark back to the good old days when a pinch was a pinch and the noose and the lash kept us all safe as houses.”
“You paying for this or me?”
“You get it, since you’re asking, and I’ve been doing the telling.”
“Now, Benny, don’t start imagining yourself a source. A case like this doesn’t need information, it needs time like a boil. It’ll come to a head in its own sweet time. If you try to rush it you’ll only get into trouble. I know trouble’s your dinner and supper, but tell that to your clients, not me.” Pete got up. On second thought he hadn’t done such a super job with his razor, and he had toast crumbs at the corner of his lips. But I wasn’t going to tell him about it. A thing like that needs time, like a boil.
When we hit the pavement he turned east on St. Andrew, leaving me free to return to my place of business as he sometimes described the place I keep my full ashtrays in. But he stalled. “You were seen talking to one of the street operators yesterday.”
“Is this a warning for me to clean up my act?”
“Just tell your pal Kogan to watch himself. We’ve got a friend of his at the morgue.”
“A friend of Kogan’s? Not Wally Moore?”
“He didn’t have any ID, but I haven’t been in plain clothes long enough to forget the dynamic duo. They used to present themselves at the door of the lock-up as soon as the thermometer dropped below zero, and if we had a drunk that cut up rough after midnight, don’t think we didn’t hear about it in the morning. They did everything but sing out for croissants and cappuccino. Those two, the pair of them, ran on more nerve than …”
“And you’ve got Kogan’s buddy cold?”
“Looks that way. Found around midnight in Montecello Park. From the preliminary report it looks like he was stabbed. So tell his buddy to watch himself.”
“Who’d want to hurt Wally Moore, a little helpless slob like that?”
“That’s a fair paraphrase of what Priscilla Gesell said when I told her that somebody’d buried a hatchet in her husband’s skull.”
“Yeah, I know. She put it there. But Wally? His middle name was harmless. I’m not surprised that he’s dead. Hell, he could have frozen to death for the last umpteen winters, or he could have given himself an overdose of battery acid or eaten a can of month-old cat food.”
“Calm down. I was just telling you he’s dead, that’s all. Don’t get your balls in an uproar.” I saw Mr. McCartle walking back to his store with his lunch in a brown paper bag. He looked older than I remembered him. “Hey, Benny! You’ve gone white. What’s the matter?” Pete had me hard by one elbow and I was flat against the display window of Dunn’s Tailors.