“I had to stop by my office a minute,” went on Hi, “and I went down to get it over with, so I could come back. I got back a little before ten.
“I was standing on the sidewalk, leaning on the gate and looking at the house — I still couldn’t believe my good luck — when I thought I saw a figure on the front porch peeking in at one of the windows. I opened the gate real easy, and just as I did, the guy jumped off the porch and tore around the house in the direction of the barn.”
“Was it Dan? Can you swear to that?”
He thought a minute, then shook his head. “Couldn’t swear it. But the guy was about Dan’s size and build, and who else could it have been?”
“Then you shot off your mouth too quick when you said it was Dan,” I suggested. “Go on.”
“So I waited — oh, about four or five minutes. Finally, through the front window, I saw one of the girls — I know now it was Julie — walk through the parlor and head through the dining-room in the direction of the kitchen. Just as I started up the walk, the screams began. I ran like hell, and when I got to the kitchen, there was Dan trying to pull Julie off — off Johanna’s body. So I helped him get her to the parlor. Then the Thoroughgoods ran in — and when I found she wasn’t hurt — and I began wondering which one—”
Dave came back, downcast over something.
“Hi,” I said, “did you kill Johanna?”
He puffed out like a pouter pigeon. “Are you crazy?” he yelled.
“He asked you if you killed Johanna Welch?” asked Doc Rennie. Something in his voice made me glance around. He was hunched forward, and his eyes were all you noticed in that square, plain face under the wiry red hair. You can have your mechanical lie detectors. I’d rather go up against one of them any day than those ice-blue eyes of Doc Rennie’s when they drill you deep.
“Of course not.” Hi fumbled the cigarette and jumped up, smacking sparks from his white linen pants.
“Did you, Dan?”
Dan faced me, red circles around his eyes. “You know I didn’t, Uncle.”
In spite of everything I found myself believing him — Dan, I mean. I turned to Doc Rennie.
“We’ll check up on O’Moore before we go any further,” I said, trying to sound brisk and like I had a firm grasp on the case. “Dave,” I said, “you and Doc Rennie take a good look around that kitchen while I go phone the bus terminal, and then I’ll give you a hand and—”
“No use,” said Dave, shaking his big head.
“Whadda you mean, no use?” I yelled. “Goddamn it, Dave, get going and do like I—”
“I just called the bus terminal,” said Dave simply. “They said O’Moore was on the bus when it pulled out for Suffern.”
So that’s what Doc Rennie had whispered to Dave to do. All my worries came to a head. I know now it was just my vanity, but for the moment I was so mad I couldn’t speak. When I could, I said: “Since you’re taking command here, Doc, suppose you tell me what we do next. I must’ve been mistaken when I thought I was runnin’ things.”
Dave screwed up his face. It always embarrasses him when I blow off.
Doc Rennie’s voice was honey — with plenty of vinegar stirred in. “I’ll be glad to assist you in any way I can, Ed. Just let me know—”
Feet on the front steps! Somebody panting. The screen door slammed. Tiny Hinkle stumbled in, his big, bald melon of a head bright red, his one eye wild.
“For God’s sake, Tiny!” Dave jumped across the room and grabbed a fat arm. Tiny was about three gasps from apoplexy. I thought he’d keel over where he stood. Dan slid off the sofa and Dave steered Tiny to it. He tried to speak, then gave up. It was a full three minutes before he got back enough wind to make sense. I suspected what was on his mind, and I think Doc Rennie did, too. My knees began to tremble and my wrists went all watery, like when you have a fever.
“They know it’s Johanna got killed!” Tiny wiped his mouth with a bandanna and gulped in more air. “It’s all over town. And they know what Dan told her — how he threatened her. And about Hi here seein’ him jump off the porch...”
Frisbie, of course! I’d forgotten to warn him not to talk!
“And there’s a story goin’ around that Dan raped—”
“Oh my God!” Hi Fillmore went green and sick.
Dan just stood there, staring at Tiny.
Tiny hesitated.
“Let’s have it,” I snapped. “Where are they gathering?”
“Down in the old stable back of Granberry’s Feed Store,” panted Tiny. “There’s about forty of ’em. Ed, you better call the state police and—”
“Listen,” I said, and they listened. “You and you” — I pointed at Hi and Dan — “are under arrest. Dave, they’re in your custody. Keep ’em right in this room.” “Doc,” — Doc Rennie shot out a hand and I hauled him and his crutches up from the chair — “you get upstairs with Julie. See if you can bring her around — if there’s anything at all she can tell you.”
“O.K., Ed.”
“I’ll see you boys later.” I tried to make it sound matter-of-fact.
Dave went into the hall with me.
“You’re goin’ down to that stable,” he said, “and I’m goin’ with you.”
“You are not,” I said.
“The hell I’m not. You think I’m gonna let you go up against that gang by—”
“Dave, come in here a minute.” Doc Rennie’s voice, from the parlor, was sharp-edged. I saw Dave waver.
“Doc’ll explain why it’s best for me to go alone,” I said quickly. I beat it out of the house and down the walk while Dave was trying to make up his mind. As I started the car, I took one last look at the house. Through the window I saw Doc Rennie and Dave in an argument, Doc waving one arm, Dave waving two. Doc Rennie seemed to be winning.
I rocketed down the hill into town, trying my best not to make up a speech in advance. I had a feeling I’d do better on the spur of the moment.
I parked the car a block from the old stable, and the last thing I did before I left it was to take out my gun and stick it under the seat. I was in my shirtsleeves, and no man could say afterward, no matter what happened, that I’d tried to run a gun-bluff on him.
The alley beside Granberry’s Feed Store was black as tar, which was why the man on guard at the stable didn’t recognize me until I was right on him. I guess he figured that the law, if it came at all, would come in quantity.
“Who’s that?” he asked from behind his mask, when I was five or six feet away.
“Me,” I said, low, closing in on him.
“Who?”
He was jumpy. I saw his white-sleeved arm reach for the door.
My hand snaked out and I curled four fingers and a thumb around a skinny wrist and reeled him in. I knew him, mask and all. It was Simp Bradley, an ornery little cuss, sly as a fox, who’d been doing odd jobs around town since he got heaved off the W.P.A.
I shifted my grip to his stringy throat and listened. The livery stable hummed like a beehive. That was encouraging. They hadn’t got to the shouting stage yet, but they would soon. If I knew my town — and I did — there were bottles in there, and the boys were priming themselves.
Simp was very still under my hand — too still. Suddenly he drew breath.
My eyes were used to the dark now, so my free fist had no trouble finding the point of his undershot chin. There was a half-turn of my shoulder and body behind the blow. Fist, arm, and Simp went numb at the same time. I dragged him, limp as spaghetti, over to the rain-barrel and propped him against it. He sagged over when I loosed his throat and I heard the thud of his head against a cobblestone.