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     “Why hasn't Anderson married since his mother died? Has he any girl friends?”

     “None that I know of. I suppose he's married to his business, he works very hard at it. If you really think Pops and Larry are mixed up in this, that Pops is gone, why not ask Chief Roberts to look into it?”

     “I don't trust him. Frankly, I don't trust anybody in the Harbor—except you. Everybody seems to be working hand in hand to cover up this mess.”

     “Why do you trust me, Mr. Lund?”

     “I don't know why. I just do. When are you going back to work?”

     “In a day or two. Fm still pretty jittery, even though I had a restful day, today.”

     “The main thing Fm lacking is the motive, the why, to all this. Anderson was around the house today, which means he should be out on his vegetable route tomorrow. I have this... hunch, I guess, that his traveling around the countryside is the key to everything. It's the only thing he does different from anybody else in the Harbor. Maybe he has a couple of wives or gal friends stashed away, maybe he's peddling dope—that would tie him in with the doc. Most likely he has Pops hiding out someplace around here. I'd like to tail him tomorrow and I need a car. I busted up my son's. Can I borrow yours?”

     “If he had anything to do with Edward's death, M not only let you have the car, I'll go along with you.”

     “I don't want to put you out,” I said, full of suspicion again.

     “I haven't anything else to do, and I know the countryside. But there's one condition: if you don't find anything to definitely prove mat Pops is gone, what I mean is, if you're not absolutely sure, one way or the other, I want you to go to Chief Roberts, have him ask to see Pops.”

     “I'll buy that,” I said, my suspicions melting—a little. “What time do we start?”

     “Larry is usually at Patchogue by five a.m. Sometimes when I'm too nervous to sleep I take long rides during the early morning hours, before going to work. I enjoy driving in the dawn fogs. I often see him leave his house at four A.M. That's when we should start, too.”

     “Good,” I said, getting up, thinking of the dizzy young thing in the Hampton watch factory. Driving seemed to be a psychiatrist's couch out here. “I'll call for you at three-thirty.”

     Jane got up slowly, seemed to stretch. “It will save time if I pick you up in front of your cottage.”

     “Okay. I live at—”

     “I know where you live, Mr. Lund.”

     I said that would be fine and stopped to look at her painting again. Standing beside me, she asked, “Would you like to have it?”

     “Well... I'd like to buy it,” I said as if I bought paintings every day. “How much?”

     “That's being silly. If you want it, I'll give it to you.”

     “I do want it. Thank you.”

     “It should be dry in a day or two. I'll have it framed and ready before you leave the Harbor. I'm glad you want one of my works.”

     Walking back to the cottage I was confused. For no reason except my instinct, which I didn't trust, I was taking Jane into my confidence. But I didn't like the business of her going with me, began to doubt who was actually tailing who. And it was odd she knew where I lived. Still, it was a small village, she would know... maybe.

     It was after eleven and I stopped at the Johnsons to tell Bessie I'd spend the night in her cottage. Mr. Johnson was playing solitaire on the kitchen table, said, “Bessie and Andy went home about an hour ago. It's all right, their....”

     I ran out of the house and sprinted for the cottage as if I were a kid. I came busting into the place, puffing like a whale and there was Danny grinning nervously at me. I fell into a chair as I tried to ask, “What are you doing here?”

     “Take it slow, Matt. Man your age shouldn't be racing down the street. Anybody chasing you?” I noticed he had the kid's baseball bat leaning against a chain.

     I shook my head. “Where's Bessie and Andy?”

     “Sleeping. They've had a big day. I happened to got some time off, thought I'd make it a long week end, be with you.”

     “Cut the slop, Danny, Bessie phoned you to come.”

     He came over and sat on the arm of my chair. “Yes. She's worried about you, Matt. Dad, I've always looked up to you as a man with plenty of good old common sense— so tell me one thing and I'll be quiet—are you sure you're not going off the deep end on Matty's death?”

     “Matty's death got me angry but it didn't make me hysterical, if that's what you mean. I'm not going off half-cocked. Before I was kind of playing at solving this murder, now I'm serious. I think I know what I'm doing.”

     He slapped me on the back lightly. “Okay, Dad. What can I do to help you?”

     “Stay with Bessie and Andy every minute of the day tomorrow. Don't frighten them, go to the beach and all the other things you usually do, but don't let them out of your sight. Having that bat around isn't a bad idea, either. I'm going to set the alarm and sleep on the porch because I have to be up in a few hours. I'll be gone most of tomorrow.”

     He wanted to ask where I was going, but didn't He pointed at my clothes. “Been in a fight?”

     “Nope, merely crawling on the grass. Now stop worrying. Tomorrow I'm only going riding, to see some of the other towns. With a woman. No danger.”

     “This Indian sex-boat Bessie told me about?”

     “Sex-boat? I ought to fan Bessie's.... Go to sleep, Dan, and let me work things out in my own way.”

     “Hungry? I have tea on and....”

     “Where did you find food here?” I shouted.

     “Easy, Dad. Bessie told me over the phone that you'd thrown out everything, so I brought some down with me. Hungry?”

     I nodded.

     I washed up, had a cup of tea and a few sandwiches, made up the porch cot, set the alarm. I didn't need a clock to wake me—I never went to sleep. I listened to the country noises, and thought of nothing and everything. I was bushed but my mind kept spinning like a top. Mostly I lay there waiting—waiting for something to happen. I had this feeling I was in way over my head, had dragged Dan and his family in, too. I wanted bullets for my gun, I wanted Roberts at least working with me... and most of all, I wished I was back in the precinct, had the platoon with me.

     In the quiet I couldn't kid myself any longer—as a cop I didn't have much confidence in me. I was goddamn frightened.

Chapter 7

     I got up at three and turned off the alarm. I must have slept a few winks, I felt rested, although my mind was still down in the dumps. I washed and shaved, careful not to make any noise. When I came out of the bathroom I found Bessie at the stove. She had a robe over her baby-dolls, but the robe was open and gave her a very deshabille effect. “Coffee, Matt?” she whispered.