Killer's Choice

'Go ahead.'

'I… uh… leaned up on one elbow. This person ran out of the shop and… uh… intera car. Drove away. Whoom!'

'Man or woman?' Meyer asked.

'I dunno.'

'Didn't you see?'

'No.'

'You just saw this person get into a car and drive away, is that right? But you can't tell me whether it was a man or a woman.'

'That's right. I was… uh… blind, you know? Ossified. Yeah.'

'Did you happen to notice the licence number?'

'Uh… no.'

'Year of the car?'

'Uh… no.'

'Make?'

'Uh…no.'

'You just saw someone—either a man or a woman—come out of the store and get into the car and drive away, is that right?'

'Yeah.'

'And that's all?'

'Yeah.'

'Well, that's very helpful, George. Thanks a lot for coming up.'

'Noddadall,' George said.

He finished his coffee, put on his hat, and left the squad room.

Meyer sighed, and then looked at the brighter side of things. The person driving the car may have owned either a driver's licence or a registered automobile. Unless he was an unlicenced driver driving a stolen car. In any case, the information was worthless at the moment.

Miscolo came over to Meyer's desk.

'How come your father visited you here?' he asked.

Meyer would not get angry. 'Search me,' he said. 'I tell him to stay away, but he keeps coming. I guess he loves me. I'm hairy, but he loves me.'

'Did you smell that guy?' Miscolo asked.

'My father?'

'Yeah.'

'Sure.'

'Pretty, huh?'

'Wonderful. I love that smell. It's my father's favourite cologne.'

'He dresses neat, your Dad,' Miscolo said.

'He always did. He almost took the best-dressed award away from Adolphe Menjou one year, would you believe it?'

'Sure, I believe it,' Miscolo said. He sobered suddenly. 'He give you anything?' he asked.

'Yeah,' Meyer said. 'A headache.'

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They were running out of suspects and into dead ends.

They were running into airtight alibis and out of patience.

They were running up one-way alleys and phone bills.

They were running down a killer who did not yet exist.

They were running around in circles.

The man's name was Arthur Cordis. He was a teller in a bank. He had known Annie Boone and dated her. When the detectives walked in and asked to talk to him, he got a little nervous. He was scrupulously honest, but it didn't look nice for a pair of detectives to walk into a bank and ask to speak to you. It reflected on your honesty. He had never touched a dime in his life.

The detectives looked very tired. One was named Carella and the other was named Kling. Carella looked as friendly as a cobra. Kling looked as old as Elvis Presley. The three men walked to one of the managers' desks. It was all very embarrassing. Very embarrassing. It made Cordis feel like a criminal even though he had never touched a dime. Things made him feel like that. He always felt guilty whenever even a paper clip was missing, even though he hadn't been the one who'd taken it. He was just that kind of a man. Things made him feel like that.

'Mr Cordis,' Carella said, 'we understand you were dating Annie Boone.'

'Yes,' Cordis said. 'Yes.' He wondered if they thought he had killed her. Certainly they could tell just by looking at him that he hadn't killed her! Did killers wear eyeglasses?

'When was the last time you dated her?' Kling asked.

'About… about a month ago. Yes. A month. You don't think I killed her, do you?'

'We're just asking some routine questions, Mr Cordis,' Carella said. He did not smile. God, he looked just like a cobra. He was the meanest-looking fellow Cordis had ever seen in his life. He wondered if he were married, and then he wondered what sort of a masochistic woman could marry a fellow like this Carella.

'Where'd you go that last time, Mr Cordis?' Kling asked.

'The ballet,' Cordis said. 'Swan Lake. And… and Pas de Deux. And Fancy Free. The ballet.'

'Where?'

'At the centre.'

'She like it?'

'Yes. Very much.'

'Quiet girl?'

'Very refined.'

'Ever see her shoot pool, Mr Cordis?' Carella asked.

'I beg your pardon.'

'Pool.'

'That's what I thought… do you mean Annie? Annie Boone?'

'Yes.'

'Shooting pool? Well, I should hardly think so. I mean, she simply wasn't that kind of a girl.'

'Did you know she was divorced, Mr Cordis?'

'Yes.'

'Ever meet her daughter?'

'Monica? Yes.'

'Ever talk to her on the telephone?'

'Who? Monica, do you mean?'

'Yes.'

'I suppose so. Once or twice. Why?'

'Talk to her recently?'

'Why, no. Not since before the last time I saw Annie. Why?'

'Where were you on the night she was killed, Mr Cordis?'

'That was Monday, 10 June. I remember,' Cordis said. 'I remember distinctly. I remember reading the papers the next day. I was shocked. Such a quiet girl. Refined, do you know? Refined. You don't meet that sort of girl very much these days. Read a lot, too. Dreiser, and Thackeray and Balzac and Dostoyevsky. A big reader. I bought her A Fable for Christmas.'

'A fable? Which fable?'

'A Fable,' Cordis said. 'Faulkner.'

'Did she like it?'

'Loved it, I'm sure. A very nice girl. Splendid. A splendid girl. I was rather serious about her.'

'And yet you haven't seen her for a month, is that right?'

'Yes. That's exactly right. And that's exactly why I stopped seeing her for a while. Because I was getting so serious about her.'

'I see.'

'It makes you think, doesn't it, gentlemen? A wonderful girl like Annie. I stopped seeing her, and now she's dead, and now I'll never see her again.'

'You still haven't told us where you were on the night of 10 June, Mr Cordis,' Carella said.

'You don't think I killed her, do you?'

'We'd like to know where you were that night, Mr Cordis.'

'I was at home.'

'Alone?'

'No.'

'Who with?'

'My mother.'

'You live with your mother, do you?'

'Yes.'

'Just the two of you home alone that night?'

'No. A neighbour-woman was in, too. We played gin together. My mother likes cards.'

'Annie like cards?'

'I don't know. I never asked her.'

'Were you ever intimate with her, Mr Cordis?'

'How do you mean?'

'Well…'

'Oh! No, never. Why do you ask?'

'We just wanted to know.'

'No, never. Well, I kissed her. Several times. Well, a few times, anyway. She wasn't that kind of a girl. You didn't take liberties with Annie. You just didn't.'

'She ever mention a man named Jamie to you?'

'Jamie? I don't believe so. Is that for James?'

'We don't know.'

'Jamie, Jamie… wait. Yes, she did. I recall now. I got rather angry. Well, not angry. That is…'

'Did you get angry, Mr Cordis?'

'Yes. Well, as matter of fact, I did. She was out with me, and I didn't appreciate her discussing some other fellow. There is such a thing as courtesy. Not that Annie was ever discourteous. Never.'

'Except this once,' Carella said.

'Yes. Just this once. And I admit I got rather peeved. She seemed… well, she seemed rather fond of this Jamie, whoever he was.'

'What did she say about him?'

'Only that she visited him in his flat, and that he was very charming.'

'Did she say where the flat was?'