“Come right in,” he said.
Yes, come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly—the black spider with the white skull, the black spider who knew by the tiniest tremor just what had wandered into the web he spun.
Or did he know? The stolid face told me nothing.
“Thought you were out of town,” I said.
“I had to change my plans. I shall be leaving today, instead. Sit down.”
I sat down on the edge of the desk and swung my leg. It felt good, even though it looked too much like a pendulum, ticking off the minutes, ticking off the seconds before he came out with it—
“Jake tells me you did a good job last night.”
“If you had my hangover, you’d know what kind of a job I did.”
“That’s fine. I want you to keep it up. Tonight and tomorrow night. I’ll return Friday and take over.”
“Take over?”
“Yes. I know how you feel about the girl, and I’ve arranged to spare you completely. She will never know of your connection in the matter. Friday you will take her out for the last time.”
“I will?”
“You will pass out. A friend of hers will be present to take her home. That’s all.”
“Only she isn’t going home. I get it.”
“No need for you to worry. I promise she will not be harmed in any way. And she’ll not blame you for what happens after that. But her uncle will prove to be extremely cooperative from then on, I can assure you.”
He stood up. “In a few weeks it will all be over. Completely forgotten. No harm done. Take her out every night between now and Friday. I’ll get in touch with you then and give you your final orders.” He smiled. “Jake will keep an eye on you meanwhile.”
I smiled right back at him. “You certainly think of everything,” I said.
“That’s correct.”
“Well, think of this for a moment. I’m not taking Ellen Post out tonight, tomorrow, or Friday. And Jake isn’t going to play Boy Detective with me any more, either. Because I am quitting this business, as of today.”
“So?”
“Just so. And get this, while we’re on the subject—if you try any funny stuff on Ellen Post or her uncle, I’ll rip your head off and stuff it down your throat.”
“Dear Doctor Roberts!” He grinned, slowly. “Is this all you have learned of tact, the diplomatic approach, the psychology of personal relationships? You need a refresher course in Y-O-U.”
“I’m not fooling. I mean what I said.”
“That is quite apparent. But may I remind you that you are acting under my orders? And for a very good reason?”
I watched him now. I wanted to see his face.
“Mike Drayton’s murder? But I didn’t kill Mike Drayton. You did.”
I wanted to see his face and I did. It wasn’t worth it. He had no reaction at all.
Then, and only then, did I realize the value of his advice. I should have been tactful, diplomatic, tried to find another way of wriggling out. But no, it was too good to miss, telling him off. And in telling him off, I had told all.
He’d guess, instantly, where I got my information. There was only one possible source. And now...
There was a paperweight on the desk. I slid off the edge of the desk slowly, meeting his blank stare with a smile. Then all in one motion I grabbed, grasped, swung.
He toppled forward in the chair very slowly, like a big, bald-headed doll. The doll was bleeding from a cut behind the ear. Out cold, and for a long time.
I stepped over to the door and peeked out. May was behind the glass, at her receptionist’s desk. Beyond the glass I saw Jake, lounging on a sofa and reading a magazine.
“Jake!” I called. “Come in here a minute. The Professor would like to see you.”
He came over, waddled through the door, waddled right into the paperweight. He didn’t fall like a doll—he fell like a ton of bricks.
I left them decorating the inner office, and locked the door on my way out.
“They’re in conference in there,” I told May. “Don’t want to be disturbed. I’m going out—back later.”
“See you,” said May.
I hoped not. Glancing at my watch, I found it was almost 3:30. Just enough time to make it out to Caldwell’s by four o’clock. I climbed in the car and headed up Wilshire for Beverly Hills.
I swung into the driveway at five minutes to four, got out and ran up the steps.
Caldwell opened the door immediately.
“You’re here,” he acknowledged. “Good!” We went down the hall to the library. Ellen Post stood up and came over and confirmed the look in her eyes with her lips.
“Nobody’s following you?” Caldwell asked.
“Not likely,” I said. I told them what had happened at the office.
Ellen nodded. “But Eddie, you took an awful risk. Suppose they come to, and go out after Miss Bauer?”
“Couldn’t make it in time. She must have left there about the same time I left the office. All it means is we’ll have to hurry. I’m going to have her sign a statement when she arrives—just in case something happens later on. Then we’ll take the photos and negatives, and that ought to prevent anything from happening, ever.
“After that, we’ll be leaving. I think we’ve got this whole thing licked at last.”
“Certainly hope so.” Caldwell paced the room, glanced up at the mantel clock. “Shouldn’t Miss Bauer be here by now, though? It’s almost ten after.”
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
We listened to the clock, and nobody said anything. The clock was suddenly quite loud.
“Where’s the phone?” I asked.
Caldwell gestured towards the next room. I went over, picked up the phone and dialed Information. I got the number of the Professor’s house after a two-minute delay, and the clock kept going louder and louder. Tick-tock.
The phone buzzed. If there was no answer, I could assume Miss Bauer had left. If there was an answer—
“Hello.”
It was a man’s voice. There was something familiar about it. I hesitated until I placed the speaker. Dr. Sylvestro.
“Hello?” he repeated, questioning.
I hung up without answering. Sylvestro was out there. And if the Professor had revived and called Sylvestro before Miss Bauer got away, then...
“Did you get her?” asked Ellen.
“No, but I’m going to.”
“What do you mean?”
I glanced at my watch. Twenty past. “I mean I’ve got to get out to the Professor’s house, right away. She may still be coming, delayed by a flat tire or something. But we can’t take that chance. Sylvestro answered the phone just now, and that can mean anything. So I’m on my way.”
“I thought you weren’t taking any chances. What do you call that? If they find you there, you’ll never get away.”
“I’ve no choice. Miss Bauer is my alibi, our alibi. Besides, I can’t leave her in the soup.”
Ellen put her arms around my neck. They seemed to belong there.
“All right, Eddie. But I’m coming with you.”
“Me too.” Caldwell clenched his big hands.
“No you’re not. You can’t. Miss Bauer may still show up here. You’ll have to be on hand when she arrives, get her statement and the pictures and the negatives. Wait for me to call. I will call, as soon as I can.”
“If you can.”
I kissed her. “Yes, darling. If I can.”
It wasn’t very heroic, and there was nothing heroic about the way I kissed her. I didn’t want to go, didn’t want to stick my neck out, or in.
But I had to, and I went.
I went fast. The walls of Vista Canyon flashed by, the roadside signs blurring before me. “DRIVE SLOWLY” meant nothing to me. And “DANGER—FALLING ROCKS” was kid stuff. I wasn’t afraid of falling rocks. I was afraid of seeing the Professor’s car, or Jake’s, in the rear-view mirror. I was afraid of seeing Doc Sylvestro waiting for me in ambush with a sawed-off shotgun.