“Okay, Rod.”
Augie Dougall was practically blubbering and shaking with relief. He had escaped censure and punishment from the sternest and most menacing of fathers.
“Good,” Ralston said. “Now go get Dr. Goldman and Sid Berman. They want to go a quick nine.”
“Berman and Goldman, wow! A twenty dollar nine-holer. Thanks, Rod.” Augie Dougall ran off. Hot Rod Ralston waited a moment and walked out slowly. I squatted lower as he passed me. When I rose to my feet after a few minutes, my legs were stiff and I was very angry.
I drove to Beverly Drive just south of Wilshire and checked out the lobby directory of the building Jane had walked into. There was a simple listing for suite 463 — R. Weiss, Stringed Instruments. I took the elevator to the fourth floor and walked down the hall to 463. Through the oak door I could hear cello chords followed by a patient European voice offering criticism. It was enough. I went back down to the lobby to wait.
I waited half an hour, until Jane came out of the elevator followed by an ascetic looking oldster with a cane who was gesturing as though he longed for a baton and a podium. Jane had her back turned to me and was eating up everything the oldster had to say. I wanted to run to her, but stayed seated. The old man concluded his lengthy farewell and retreated back into the elevator. Jane was just about out the door when she turned in my direction and saw me. I stood up and smiled. “Hello, dear,” I said.
She placed her cello gently on the floor. “Fritz, I...”
I walked to her and took her hands. “I’m back,” I said, “belatedly.”
She looked shocked, but finally managed a smile. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I followed you.”
“You—”
“I followed you here. I rang your doorbell and when no one answered, I decided to wait. When Ralston picked you up, I tailed you here.”
“Am I a suspect in this thing you’re investigating?”
She was pulling away, so I let go of her hands. “Of course not. Don’t be angry. We have a lot to talk about. My car’s outside.”
We walked to the car. Jane was scrutinizing me the whole time, quite directly. I couldn’t understand her resentment. It went beyond my invading her privacy. When we settled into my car, she placed a tentative hand on my arm. “You look different,” she said. “It’s hard to place, but your features have changed. What happened in Mexico?”
“I killed two men. And I got drunk.”
“Oh, God!”
“Yeah. Where do you know Ralston from?”
“Richard? What does he have to do with this?”
“A lot. Will you answer my question?”
“From Hillcrest. We’ve known each other for years.”
“What’s the basis of your relationship?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean have you slept with him?”
“How dare you ask me that! One night doesn’t give you a claim on me. I’ve had enough. I’m going to leave.”
“No. Not yet. Please. I’m sorry. I’m pissed off because this reunion isn’t coming off the way I expected, and Ralston is in this thing up to his ears.”
“You didn’t have to cross-examine me the way you did.”
“I was hurt, jealous. Ralston is a notorious well-endowed cunt-hound and he’s had years to work on you.”
“What an ugly thing to call someone. For your information, Richard is a business associate of Sol’s and a very decent person and yes, we did have an affair, briefly, several years ago.”
“That’s all you had to say.”
“You’ve changed, Fritz. You’ve gotten harder. Did you really kill two men?”
“Yeah. They were trying to kill me. Brace yourself: they killed your brother.”
“What did you...”
“I found his body outside Tijuana. In a scuzzy little shack that’s going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. The killers came back for something and I killed them.”
Jane looked out the window, watching the passing parade on Beverly Drive. When she spoke again it was very softly. “I don’t feel anything. He got what he paid for. Don’t tell me the details, I don’t want to give form to the thing. But it was terrible, wasn’t it?”
“Beyond words.”
“Is it why you got drunk?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re sober again, right?”
“Right.”
“Good. I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted today, Fritz, but what you told me about Richard Ralston upset me. He’s been very supportive of Sol since the warehouse fire.”
“In what way?”
“He’s been conferring with Sol a lot, driving him places, cheering him up.”
“You don’t believe me about Ralston, do you? Would you believe me if I told you he was responsible for your brother’s death?”
“No, I don’t, and no I wouldn’t! Look, you admitted you were a lousy cop and maybe you’re a lousy detective. Richard is a good man. He loves Sol. If they were both involved in bookmaking, I don’t care. It doesn’t hurt anyone. And listen to me, Fritz: If you hurt Richard in any way, I will never speak to you, ever again. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand. I understand that you aren’t capable of accepting reality. Richard Ralston is a thieving, fucking, low-life predator. Your brother was just murdered, your former lover is responsible, your best friend is probably being blackmailed and all you can think about is your fucking insulated Beverly Hills lifestyle.”
Jane turned red and swung at me clumsily with her closed fist. I let her hit me. “Do it again,” I screamed. She hit me again and again, each time harder, then collapsed into tears. I pulled her to me and stroked her head. “Good, darling, good. Get it out. I understand, really. Just try to understand me. I’ve been waiting for this thing for a long time. It’s mine and I’m not going to blow it. But it’s no good without you. Ten people have been killed since this thing started and I’m the only one who can end it. But there’s got to be some kind of decency and kindness waiting for me when it’s over.”
Jane looked up at me. Her tears had stopped and she looked strangely composed. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean that I love you. We can have a good life together when this is over.”
“But I don’t know you.”
“Do you care about me?”
“I don’t know you!”
“Ssshh. We’ll have time to court properly when all this is over.”
“Oh, God, don’t you...” Jane started to sob again, and again I held her, very gently. We stayed that way for a minute, then I tucked a hand under her chin and lifted her head toward me. Her face was mottled and her eye makeup was streaked. I pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it off.
“Will you do a few things for me, sweetheart?” I asked.
“I guess so.”
“Good. One: stay away from Ralston, and two: tell Kupferman I’ll be calling him, probably tomorrow. Tell him who I am and what I’ve been doing. Tell him it’s very important.”
“All right.”
“Good. Will you have dinner with me tonight? At my place?”
“I can’t. I have to study and practice. And I want to be near Sol and have time to think.”
“All right. I’ll drive you home.”
“No. I want to be alone. A walk home carrying my cello will clear my head. You understand, don’t you?”
“Of course. I’ll call you soon.”
I leaned over and we kissed. Jane’s lips brushed distractedly against mine. She maneuvered her cello out the car door. “Be careful,” she said.
I nodded and watched through the rear-view mirror as She lugged her cello up Beverly Drive and out of sight. When she was gone I realized I had forgotten to give her the armadillo purse I had bought in Tijuana.