Thats fine. Whats the address?
He weel send a car.
I have a car of my own. Just give me-
He weel send a car, the voice said coldly, and the phone clicked in my ear.
I looked at my watch once more. It was more than time for lunch. My stomach burned from the last drink. I wasnt hungry. I lit a cigarette. It tasted like a plumbers handkerchief. I nodded across the office at Mr. Rembrandt, then I reached for my hat and went out. I was halfway to the elevator before the thought hit me. It hit me without any reason or sense, like a dropped brick. I stopped and leaned against the marbled wall and pushed my hat around on my head and suddenly I laughed.
A girl passing me on the way from the elevators back to her work turned and gave me one of those looks which are supposed to make your spine feel like a run in a stocking. I waved my hand at her and went back to my office and grabbed the phone. I called up a man I knew who worked on the Lot Books of a title company.
Can you find a property by the address alone? I asked him.
Sure. We have a cross index. What is it?
1644 West 54th Place. Id like to know a little something about the condition of the title.
Id better call you back. Whats that number?
He called back in about three minutes.
Get your pencil out, he said. Its Lot 8 of Block 11 of Caradays Addition to the Maplewood Tract Number 4. The owner of record, subject to certain things, is Jessie Pierce Florian, widow.
Yeah. What things?
Second half taxes, two ten-year street improvement bonds, one storm drain assessment bond also ten year, none of these delinquents, also a first trust deed of $2600.
You mean one of those things where they can sell you out on ten minutes notice?
Not quite that quick, but a lot quicker than a mortgage. Theres nothing unusual about it except the amount. Its high for that neighborhood, unless its a new house.
Its a very old house and in bad repair, I said. Id say fifteen hundred would buy the place.
Then its distinctly unusual, because the refinancing was done only four years ago.
Okey, who holds it? Some investment company?
No. An individual. Man named Lindsay Marriott, a single man. Okey?
I forget what I said to him or what thanks I made. They probably sounded like words. I sat there, just staring at the wall.
My stomach suddenly felt fine. I was hungry. I went down to the Mansion House Coffee Shop and ate lunch and got my car out of the parking lot next to my building.
I drove south and east, towards West 54th Place. I didnt carry any liquor with me this time.
16
The block looked just as it had looked the day before. The street was empty except for an ice truck, two Fords in driveways, and a swirl of dust going around a corner. I drove slowly past No. 1644 and parked farther along and studied the houses on either side of mine. I walked back and stopped in front of it, looking at the tough palm tree and the drab unwatered scrap of lawn. The house seemed empty, but probably wasnt. It just had that look. The lonely rocker on the front porch stood just where it had stood yesterday. There was a throw-away paper on the walk. I picked it up and slapped it against my leg and then I saw the curtain move next door, in the near front window.
Old Nosey again. I yawned and tilted my hat down. A sharp nose almost flattened itself against the inside of the glass. White hair above it, and eyes that were just eyes from where I stood. I strolled along the sidewalk and the eyes watched me. I turned in towards her house. I climbed the wooden steps and rang the bell.
The door snapped open as if it had been on a spring. She was a tall old bird with a chin like a rabbit. Seen from close her eyes were as sharp as lights on still water. I took my hat off.
Are you the lady who called the police about Mrs. Florian?
She stared at me coolly and missed nothing about me, probably not even the mole on my right shoulder blade.
I aint sayin I am, young man, and I aint sayin I aint. Who are you? It was a high twangy voice, made for talking over an eight party line.
Im a detective.
Lands sakes. Why didnt you say so? Whats she done now? I aint seen a thing and I aint missed a minute. Henry done all the goin to the store for me. Aint been a sound out of there.
She snapped the screen door unhooked and drew me in. The hall smelled of furniture oil. It had a lot of dark furniture that had once been in good style. Stuff with inlaid panels and scallops at the corners. We went into a front room that had cotton lace antimacassars pinned on everything you could stick a pin into.
Say, didnt I see you before? she asked suddenly, a note of suspicion crawling around in her voice. Sure enough I did. You was the man that
Thats right. And Im still a detective. Whos Henry?
Oh, hes just a little colored boy that goes errands for me. Well, what you want, young man? She patted a clean red and white apron and gave me the beady eye. She clicked her store teeth a couple of times for practice.
Did the officers come here yesterday after they went to Mrs. Florians house?
What officers?
The uniformed officers, I said patiently.
Yes, they was here a minute. They didnt know nothing.
Describe the big man to me the one that had a gun and made you call up.
She described him, with complete accuracy. It was Malloy all right.
What kind of car did he drive?
A little car. He couldnt hardly get into it.
Thats all you can say? This mans a murderer!
Her mouth gaped, but her eyes were pleased. Lands sakes, I wish I could tell you, young man. But I never knew much about cars. Murder, eh? Folks aint safe a minute in this town. When I come here twenty-two years ago we didnt lock our doors hardly. Now its gangsters and crooked police and politicians fightin each other with machine guns, so Ive heard. Scandalous is what it is, young man.
Yeah. What do you know about Mrs. Florian?
The small mouth puckered. She aint neighborly. Plays her radio loud late nights. Sings. She dont talk to anybody. She leaned forward a little. Im not positive, but my opinion is she drinks liquor.
She have many visitors?
She dont have no visitors at all.
Youd know, of course, Mrs.
Mrs. Morrison. Lands sakes, yes. What else have I got to do but look out of the windows?
I bet its fun. Mrs. Florian has lived here a long time
About ten years, I reckon. Had a husband once. Looked like a bad one to me. He died. She paused and thought I guess he died natural, she added. I never heard different.
Left her money?
Her eyes receded and her chin followed them. She sniffed hard. You been drinkin liquor, she said coldly.
I just had a tooth out. The dentist gave it to me.
I dont hold with it.
Its bad stuff, except for medicine, I said.
I dont hold with it for medicine neither.
I think youre right, I said. Did he leave her money? Her husband?
I wouldnt know. Her mouth was the size of a prune and as smooth. I had lost out.
Has anybody at all been there since the officers?
Aint seen.
Thank you very much, Mrs. Morrison. I wont trouble you any more now. Youve been very kind and helpful.
I walked out of the room and opened the door. She followed me and cleared her throat and clicked her teeth a couple more times.
What number should I call? she asked, relenting a little.
University 4-5000. Ask for Lieutenant Nulty. What does she live on relief?
This aint a relief neighborhood, she said coldly.
I bet that side piece was the admiration of Sioux Falls once, I said, gazing at a carved sideboard that was in the hall because the dining room was too small for it. It had curved ends, thin carved legs, was inlaid all ever, and had a painted basket of fruit on the front.