He was a nervous, wispy little man but he looked to me like Sir Galahad’s brother when they brought him to my cell half an hour after I was locked up.
“What sort of nonsense is this, Larry?”
“They claim I stole the car I was driving.”
“False, of course.”
“I didn’t steal it but it wasn’t my car. It was my car’s twin — identical in every detail.”
“I didn’t know you were acquainted with Gloria Dane.”
“I’m not. I never met her in my life.”
“Then how did you get her car?”
“So help me, Lee — I don’t know. I thought it was mine.”
“Most peculiar but I’m sure everything will work out all right. In the meantime, you don’t want to stay in this place do you?”
“I don’t seem to have much choice.”
“Oh, I can get you out all right. In fact I stopped off and got a writ from Judge Boylan on the way over. There was a thousand-dollar bond but that’s routine. Nick Sampson has it ready. Nick handles all my bonding business.”
And it occurred to me that democracy was wonderful as I silently thanked the writers of the Magna Carta and the Bill of Rights.
So I thanked Lee out in the street fifteen minutes later and hiked by the Danvers Hotel to the restaurant where Connie was waiting.
She brought two cups of coffee to a corner table and asked, “Did the girl apologize?”
“What girl?”
“You mean the silly thing still isn’t straightened out?”
“Not so far as the police are concerned. I’m out on a writ.”
“But Larry. It’s all so idiotic. Somehow the two of you switched cars.”
“And you think Gloria Dane has mine?”
“That’s the only way it could be.”
“Then why did she report her’s stolen?”
“I... I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be smart to ask her?”
“Good idea. Can I use your car, hon?”
“Of course. But be careful of the brakes. They need relining.”
“I hope I can locate this Dane gal. I suppose she’s in the phone book.”
“If not the police should have her address. But if you don’t, you’d better keep my car. You can drive it to your place tonight and I’ll take a cab out.” She looked up quickly. “We’ve still got a date, haven’t we?”
I’d never realized before how pretty Connie really was. Also, I liked the quick concern in her tone of voice and knew that having her on my side made me luckier than most.
“Sure we’ve got a date.”
Her smile uncovered even white teeth. “In that case I’ll get you the keys.”
I set my cup down with a bang. “The keys!”
“What about them?”
“How come my key fit Gloria Dane’s car?”
Connie stared at me. “Your keys — someone else’s car—” She frowned. “Wait a minute. It gets a little complicated.”
“It certainly does. It gets harder and harder to call it a coincidence. I’ll grant that another convertible exactly like mine might get parked right next to it, but an accidental exchange demands identical ignition locks. I suppose such a freak accident could happen at the factory but I doubt that it did.”
“Larry — I’m beginning to get scared.”
“No point in that but I’m mighty curious myself.” I got up from the table. Connie got me her keys and I said, “See you tonight, chick.”
“Larry, you will be careful. And call me if anything new develops.”
I said I would and went out to the parking lot.
The search for Gloria Dane ended quickly; after she didn’t answer the phone number listed in the Central City directory, nor the bell I pushed at 2841 Sedgewick Drive. So I got back into Connie’s little foreign job and sat back to think things over.
I was more worried than I’d wanted Connie to see. I’d have had to be pretty stupid not to be. But still there didn’t seem to be anything I could do because nothing that had happened made any sense. There didn’t appear to be any objective to the weird goings-on. And nothing much I could do about it, at least until I found the owner of the car I’d been accused of stealing and asked her a few questions.
Of course there was plenty I could wonder about; like what had happened to my own pride and joy — the sleek cream convertible that had apparently turned into someone else’s cream convertible in the parking lot — a miracle I couldn’t quite swallow.
There were other angles to ponder also and I pondered them all the way across town to my office. First and foremost, who would profit by my conviction for auto theft?
The answer to that one was fairly simple. Gus Largo would conceivably get the boys who were looking to me as their leader if I were discredited with a felony; get them into his fake union where he wanted them. But somehow I couldn’t buy it. The frame was too elaborate — and too full of potential holes. There were other, far simpler tricks that Gus could have pulled out of his bag. This one was too chancey. Even though I’d been arrested, I was far from being convicted.
No, it just didn’t add in that direction, but think of the devil and there he was — his big Cadillac parked in front of my office door as I pulled up.
No goons came over to escort me to the captain so I walked over under my own power and said, “Hello Gus,” to the fat man sitting in the back seat.
Gus Largo had a huge, gross body with a face that didn’t fit; the face of an innocent-eyed juvenile that looked as though it might have been attached to the front of his head on a day very few faces were available; just something to get him off the production line and away.
As a result, he looked like a sincere person who meant it when he said, “Hello, Bowman. I heard you got into a little trouble with the law.”
“Something you arranged?”
He looked genuinely hurt. “How can you say that?”
I saw no point in explaining how easy it was. “A little out of your territory aren’t you?”
He had two assistants with him; well dressed young men who might have been fresh out of college — no slanty-headed types for Largo — high-honor boys in the field of business administration. But no school taught the methods they were capable of using.
Largo had only smiled at my question and I said, “You’re wasting your time, Gus. None of us are going along with you. And if you bust up too many of our boxes, I know quite a few honest cops who won’t like it any better than we do.”
“All I’ve done,” Gus said mildly, “is invite you fellows in with friendly persuasion.”
“That’s fine. See that you keep it friendly.”
He made a motion toward the driver. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Bowman. And if you need any help from my legal battery, just let me know. I’d like to give you a sample of the kind of service Apex Protective gives its clients.”
I could have said something about Gus needing the legal eagles himself when he got to Washington, but the car pulled away and I went into my office.
I tried to do a little work but my mind wasn’t on it. There was too much unfinished business in other directions. It was collection day and I took the canvass change sacks and serviced two stops before I lost interest and kept right on going past the third.
I had a small hunting lodge about an hour’s drive north that I seldom used; nothing much more than a shed on a marshy section of Lake Clara. Ducks were out of season now and there was no point in going there except that it suddenly seemed a nice place to be.
Maybe even then I was filled with subconscious fear that I refused to admit consciously. Maybe my duck blind looked good to me because I was afraid I wouldn’t see it again. That’s the way it is, they say; when you see an end or a change in the offing, the simple, homey things you’ve had and known become very precious. Anyhow, I stayed there all afternoon and watched the sun slip down across the lake making the water and the reeds and the loneliness beautiful and desirable. Then I remembered my date with Connie and had a guilty twinge. If I didn’t hurry, she’d be kept waiting.