Wilma smiled. "All of this in front of the Patio Cafe, and half the village looking on." She and Clyde had been close friends forever-if she had a little laugh at his expense, he'd had plenty of laughs at hers. "My friend Nora was waiting tables and had a ringside view. Those two rookies that Harper just hired-they don't know Clyde."
"They arrested him," Joe Grey said, rumbling with purrs.
Wilma nodded. "Arrested him while the pups had him tangled in the leash."
Dulcie looked from one to the other, half amused, half feeling sorry for Clyde.
"Clyde got himself untangled," Wilma said, "but Selig wouldn't let the rookies near the Harley. The puppy seemed to think that he had caught the cycle, and they had no right to it. He stood guarding it, snarling like a timber wolf, and Clyde trying to pull him away.
"One of the rookies stepped into the cafe and bought a prewrapped beef sandwich. He distracted Selig with that until his partner could lock the Harley driver in a squad car. Ordinarily, a rookie wouldn't be assigned alone to a unit, but there was some kind of changeover at the station."
Wilma settled back against the cushions, and for a long, perfect moment, she and the cats envisioned Clyde Damen in the backseat of a black-and-white, confined behind the wire barrier.
"Nice," Joe Grey said. "Wait until I lay this one on him."
"He didn't mention it?" Dulcie asked.
"Silent as a mummy in the tomb." He looked at Wilma. "So what happened when they got to the station? Did you talk to Harper, get a blow-by-blow?"
"When rookie Jimmie McFarland tried to get the pups out of the unit, they set their feet and wouldn't come.
"McFarland had saved back a little of the sandwich. He bribed them out with that. But when he got them into the station, Selig took a look at all those nice uniforms and began to bark and leap in the officers' faces, kissing everyone. And Hestig grabbed McFarland's field book, raced around the station with it, dodging anyone who got close.
Wilma smiled. "When the dispatcher called the dog catcher, that's when Clyde began to shout."
Joe Grey rolled on his back, laughing.
"At about that time," Wilma said, "Harper came in the back door, saw McFarland tackle Selig, saw Officer Blake trying to corner Hestig. Harper grabbed Selig by the nape of the neck, shook him, and turned on Clyde as if he'd shake him, too."
Dulcie's purr bubbled into laughter. Joe lay grinning, thinking about what he'd have to say to Clyde.
"Before Harper could get them sorted out, Selig jerked loose from him, snatched a sheaf of reports from Officer Blake's desk, and ran off chewing on them. Three officers caught him but, without a collar, he slipped free of them-snatched Lieutenant Brennan's ham sandwich, then grabbed the photo officer's reflex camera. The officer tackled him, rescued his camera, stood cradling it like a baby. Harper was so mad, he told me, and was laughing so hard, that he could feel tears."
"And I missed it all," Joe said. "The event of the-"
A tremor shook the bed. Joe leaped up. Dulcie rose into a wary crouch. Wilma's cup rattled in its saucer.
But then the room was still again.
They waited, but no second jolt hit. The three friends looked at each other, and shrugged. A second later, the phone rang.
Wilma picked up, listened, then pressed the speaker button.
Lucinda's voice was weak and unsteady. "… he's… I'm at the hospital. He's hurt, Wilma. Broken arm, some broken ribs. He was soaking wet and so cold, shivering. I only hope… I don't know how long he lay there, in the cold and rain."
Wilma leaned close to the phone's speaker. "Start at the beginning, Lucinda. Tell me what happened. Take it slowly, please."
"The police found him-not our police," Lucinda said. "The highway patrol. They-in the dark. Pedric was lying halfway down Hellhag Hill. Someone…" Lucinda's voice shook "Someone tried…"
"How would they find him in the dark and rain? What were they doing… Never mind. I'll come. Who's the doctor?"
"Dr. Harliss."
"I'll be there." Wilma slipped out of bed. "I'll be…"
"No. Don't come here. I'm… I'll stay with him. Go there. Go to Hellhag Hill. Find out… Talk to the police. Find out who-what happened."
"But…"
"Hurry, while they're still there. Please find out what happened."
"But they won't be…"
"They'll still be there. I came away in the ambulance. They were still there, seeing to Newlon."
"Newlon?"
"Newlon's dead. They found him lying on the highway in the rain. Please find out, Wilma." Her voice shook. "Find out who killed Newlon, and tried to kill Pedric."
Wilma hung up the phone and sat looking at the cats. "First, Chambers is stabbed. Now, another man in the hospital, and a man dead. And all of them," she said, "connected to Shamas Greenlaw."
Swinging out of bed, she snatched up some clothes and slipped into the bathroom to wash and dress. Within minutes, she and the cats were headed for Hellhag Hill, Joe and Dulcie staring out through the rain-soaked windows, shivering in the cavernous, cold car.
17
TWO HIGHWAY patrol units were nosed in along the shoulder, their lights shining across the rain-matted grass at the base of Hellhag Hill. Passing them on the wet black two-lane, Wilma pulled up ahead, behind two Molena Point black-and-whites. Beyond these stood the coroner's gray sedan, its headlights shining on a makeshift tent, a green police tarp erected to keep the rain off Newlon Greenlaw's body. Other illumination was provided by three large butane lanterns. The coroner, John Bern, a thin, button-nosed man wearing a yellow raincoat, knelt beside the body. As Wilma stepped out of the car, she saw Max Harper leave the tent and start up the hill, his torchlight bouncing off curtains of blowing rain. She saw, up the hill just below the trailer park, in the beam of other torches, two more uniforms and a gathering of onlookers.
"Up there," Officer Davis told her, coming up to Wilma, wringing water from her uniform skirt. "That's where Pedric Greenlaw fell, just above those boulders. Ambulance left with him about half an hour ago." Davis was a middle-aged woman, solidly built, short dark hair, dark and expressive Latin eyes.
"What happened?" Wilma said. "I've only talked with Lucinda Greenlaw, and she was pretty upset."
"You knew Newlon Greenlaw?" Davis said, gesturing toward the body.
"I've met him."
"Head cracked open. We've found no weapon. Apparently the two men were fighting, up around the trailers. It's dark as hell up there at night; they've never had good lighting.
"People in the trailers woke up, heard thumps and scuffling, then groans. Grabbed flashlights and ran out. Someone thought there were three men, but they couldn't be sure. We've not found any traces of a third man. Pedric fell maybe twenty feet, into those rocks just above the cave.
"When the people up there called 911, California Highway Patrol was just up the road. They came on down to see if they could render assistance, spotted Newlon's body in their headlights here beside the road.
"We won't know much until it gets light," Davis said. "And maybe not then, with this rain. Sure makes a mess."
Moving to the tent, Wilma watched the coroner examine the dead man's head wound and take the temperature of the liver, a procedure which never failed to make her queasy. She flinched as the needle went into the abdomen.