“I think you’d better skip the whole idea,” Barbara said. “I don’t like it.”
“What’s the matter, honey?”
“It’s a stupid thing to involve people in,” she said. “It simply gives them a green light to be hurtful and cruel, to damn one another with a few flip comments. Can’t you see that?”
“You’re taking this pretty big, aren’t you? It’s just a gag, you know.” Turning her by the elbows, he said, “Hold still now. Relax.” He massaged the back of her neck slowly with his fingers. “You’re all tied up in knots. What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t mean to fly off the handle,” she said. “I thought I’d wait until after the party to tell you. I didn’t want to spoil the evening.”
“Never mind that. Let’s have it.”
She turned around and sighed despairingly. “Jimmy’s been stealing money from the house for the past couple of weeks. I couldn’t believe it at first and that’s why I didn’t say anything to you about it. It seemed so preposterous. I’m careless with change sometimes and I thought perhaps I’d mislaid the money. But I’m afraid that was just wishful thinking.”
“Now just a minute, honey.” Farrell sat on the bed and pulled her gently down beside him. He patted her hands and said, “Maybe it isn’t so wishful after all. We’re both pretty careless with money, for that matter.” Farrell took a deep breath; he seemed to need more air, cleaner air. Jimmy wasn’t a thief; there was no chance of that. “Now listen, honey,” he said. “How about baby sitters and the woman who comes in to do the ironing? And Angey’s friends, for that matter? They fly in and out of here like birds. How did you happen to pin this on Jimmy?”
She glanced at him quickly. “Do you think I’m trying to pin it on him, for heaven’s sake?”
“Now, now,” he said, still patting her hand. “You know that wasn’t what I meant. But I want to know why you’re sure it was Jimmy.”
“You haven’t given me a chance.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“Well, a half-dozen times in the past two weeks I’ve missed odd bits of change. Sometimes it would be a dollar or two, other times a quarter or a few dimes or nickels.” She drew a deep breath. “For instance, I’d pay the milkman and leave the change in the kitchen. It would vanish. Or I’d be sure I had a dollar or two change in the pocket of my car coat, but when I stopped to buy cigarettes or something the money would be gone. Then two days ago I bought a magazine subscription from the Sims’ oldest boy. I put two dollars and eighty cents change on the table in the hallway and just then the phone rang. It was Chicky and she chattered on as usual. While I was talking to her Jimmy came down the stairs and went out the front door.” She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “When I went into the hallway the money was gone.”
“You didn’t actually see him take it, did you?”
“No, but he was the only person who went through the hallway while I was on the phone.”
Farrell got up and lit a cigarette. He was frowning. “Yes, but how about the front door? Supposing you hadn’t closed it after the Sims’ boy left? Couldn’t someone else have come along while you were on the phone? A delivery boy, or a salesman, maybe? If they saw the money and heard you talking on the phone, they could have taken it before Jimmy came down the stairs. Isn’t that possible?”
“John, I’m as eager as you are to prove that Jimmy is innocent. Will you please let me finish? This morning just after breakfast — well, you were still at the table, you must remember. The milkman stopped by with the weekly account and I paid him with a ten-dollar bill. The change came to three dollars and sixty cents and I put it on the table while I finished a cup of coffee. You do remember, don’t you?”
“How do you expect me to keep track of details like that?”
“Well, you and Angey left the table together. She wanted you to see her English exercise book. Afterward she kissed me good-by and ran out to meet Charlotte Fairman — you and she went to the front door together. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Farrell said slowly.
“Jimmy was still moping around the dining room. He told me he couldn’t find his school books. I went upstairs to look for them, and when I came down he was waiting for me in the hallway. He took the books and ran. When I went in to clear the breakfast dishes — well, there was only a dollar and sixty cents on the table. Two dollars were gone, and no one but Jimmy could have taken them.”
“It seems like an airtight case,” Farrell said and he felt a quirk of illogical anger at her; she hadn’t left the boy a loophole. “How much do you figure he’s taken altogether?”
“I don’t know. Fifteen or twenty dollars anyway.”
“It’s still petty larceny, that’s something to be grateful for.” He shrugged helplessly. “Well, where do we go from here, honey?”
“First, I think you should have a talk with him,” Barbara said. “You’ve got to find out why he’s taken this money.”
“I’ll have a talk with him,” Farrell said.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
He sighed and said, “Goddammit. Goddammit to hell.”
She put her fingers across his lips. “That doesn’t sound like you. Getting mad isn’t going to help things.”
“I don’t feel mad,” Farrell said. “I just feel a little bit sick.”
Ten minutes later Farrell went down to the study and made himself a drink. “Where’s your mother?” he said to Angey, who sat cross-legged on the floor sorting her records. Jimmy stood at the windows staring out at the dark street, his tousled hair shining in the lamplight.
“I don’t know,” Angey said absently; she was looking closely at a record. “Jimmy, were you playing ‘Plant Life’ today?” She spoke with an ominous sharpness, turning the question into an accusation.
“I didn’t touch your silly old records,” he said.
“Well, how did the peanut butter get on ‘Plant Life,’ that’s all I want to know. Look at me, Jimmy. I can tell if you’re telling the truth.”
Farrell said, “All right, knock it off. Miss District Attorney.”
She looked up at him and her eyes brightened under her neat blonde bangs. “You look wonderful,” she said. “Those clothes make you look so thin.”
“Well, thanks.” Barbara came in and he raised his glass to her. “One for the road, you know.”
“I know,” she said drily. She patted Angey’s head. “Sweetie, get my stole out of the closet, will you please? I’ll say good-by to Mrs. Simpson, John.” She nodded meaningfully at Jimmy who was still staring out into the street. “I won’t be long.” When Barbara and Angey had gone Farrell sat down in a chair beside Jimmy and squeezed his thin shoulder. “What’s so fascinating out there?”
“I don’t know. I was just looking, that’s all.”
“Well, come here and sit down. I want to talk to you.”
Jimmy turned and slumped down on the ottoman at Farrell’s feet. He stared down at his shoes, his expression withdrawn and cautious in the shadings of soft lamplight. “What do you want?” he said, in an anxious little voice. He sat dejectedly and helplessly, his face averted as if expecting a blow.
Farrell felt a wrench of compassion for him, but he said casually, “I know you’ve got a birthday coming up pretty soon, and it occurred to me you’re about old enough to start choosing some of your own presents. My father let me do that when I was your age. Of course there’d be surprises, too, but he let me pick out the big thing. Does that strike you as a good idea?”