“There’s some point that we don’t understand. Take that nail polish Joan was wearing. She never wore polish, and Sheila Star always wore very dark red polish, according to you.”
“We’ve been through that, friend. Too many times. You still don’t give me any basis on which I can take action. You want me to go out to Rice’s place and ask him to give up this Christianson woman he has locked in the back room or someplace, and I have to tell him my reason is because your wife got herself up to imitate Sheila Star. He’d laugh so hard he’d fall down.”
“Joan imitated Sheila’s voice one night at the Golden Sixpence. Rice heard it. It gave him an idea. That’s why Joan was at Rice’s house when she was away.”
Dockerty sat up. “Who says that?”
“A man named Goddard. A tax man.”
Dockerty stood up. “Why, that fat little son of a— Why didn’t he tell me that?”
“He has a man watching Rice’s place. He didn’t want to spoil that. And he didn’t think the information mattered.”
Dockerty was silent for several moments. “Up until we found the Star girl, he was right. But finding her changes things. Put another woman in the picture, and it gives a motive for getting rid of the Star girl.”
He opened a desk drawer and looked at a list, banged it shut, and started buttoning his shirt. He put his hat on. “Come on, Shelby.” Dockerty drove poorly, riding the clutch, accelerating raggedly. They drove into a pastel motel, found Room Nine. Jay, obeying orders, stayed in the car. Dockerty banged on the door until the lights went on and the door opened and Goddard, in violent pajamas, stared puffily out at him. They talked in low tones. At one point Dockerty raised his voice and Jay heard him say, “—don’t care if you represent the UN. This is my town, and anybody who conceals evidence in my town gets treated like any other criminal.”
Dockerty came back, got behind the wheel, and said, “He’ll be right out.”
“Then where do we go?”
“The Golden Sixpence. Want to tell me the name of that witness?”
“I told you I can’t.”
“Boy Scout,” Dockerty muttered, his voice bitter.
Goddard came out. He stared at Jay. “Thank you, Mr. Shelby. Thank you very much indeed.”
“Get off his back,” Dockerty said. “It isn’t his fault. It’s yours.” And as they drove, he briefed Goddard, covering tersely the clues that pointed to an impersonation. Goddard suddenly became alert.
Dockerty pulled up behind the Golden Sixpence and hammered at the rear door. After a long wait a voice called out, “Go around front.”
“This is the law. Open the door.”
The door opened. It was fastened with a chain. McGay looked out through the crack. He shut the door, and they heard the chain being unhooked. He opened the door.
“What do you want?”
“Is Rice in there?”
“He went home.”
Dockerty put a heavy hand on McGay’s chest and pushed him back into the hall. “Where’s Rice’s office?”
“That door, but—”
The office was empty. Steve McGay gave Jay a curious sidelong glance. Dockerty gave McGay another shove, and the husky man half fell into a leather chair. The office was quiet, discreet, like a banker’s private office.
Dockerty looked heavily at McGay. “I suppose you know you’re mixed up in a filthy mess. You and Rice and Rikerd.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The bottom is going to fall out, McGay. And Rice is setting it up so it’s going to fall on you. Isn’t that right, Goddard?”
The fat man wore no smile. “That’s a good way to put it, Dock.”
“I don’t like to see anybody set up as a fall guy,” Dockerty said.
Steve McGay looked up at them. “He can’t do that. I tell you I don’t know anything.”
“You look nervous, McGay. For a man who doesn’t know anything.”
“I got to get back on the floor.”
“That can wait. This place may be closed by tomorrow.”
McGay looked down at his knuckles. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay,” he said.
“Then let’s have it.”
“It isn’t much.”
“Let’s have it, anyway.”
“It started with that wacky blonde. I was getting interested. I think I would have made out. Then there was trouble here, with her and Sheila. The next thing that happens is that I get orders from Rice to leave her alone. Rikerd starts dating her. That makes me sore. I asked Rikerd the score. He told me to shut up about it, it wasn’t what I thought. A few days later there was orders to stay away from Rice’s place. So I did. And I got a raise, for no special reason. They find the blonde in the pool at the Inn. It didn’t smell right to me, somehow. I talked to Rice. He told me my nose was too long. Sheila never came around after that scrap with the blonde. I can’t figure that. She was always in the driver’s seat with Rice. I couldn’t see him keeping her away from here. He ran everybody else, but he always did like she said. I could never figure that, she being a tramp. Rice tells me if anybody, anybody at all, asks about the blonde, I’m to tell him. That seemed funny, too. I went riding with the blonde and a woman named Ellen Christianson the morning after the scrap here. That was the last time I saw the blonde. Then the Christianson woman asks about the blonde the other day. I told her nothing, and I didn’t tell Rice about her asking. She came tonight. Rice was here. I sent her down the back stairs. She was asking me crazy questions. No sense to them. I told her Mr. Rice wanted to talk to her. She went down. I came down here to the office a half hour later. Rice was here alone. He was shaky. I never saw him look that way. I asked if he saw the Christianson woman. He cursed me out. Then he cursed Rikerd out. He was drinking. He never drinks. He told me Rikerd was too quick with his hands, and he was going out to the house, and I should get back on the floor where I belonged. It made me nervous. All that about Tom Rikerd being quick with his hands. With Sheila dead and the blonde dead, and that Christianson woman being no chippy, being somebody with class you could spot across a room, it made me nervous. And him drinking made me nervous. Then he came around and I brushed him off, told him I hadn’t seen the woman. I’d been nervous all night. Something is going on. Something I don’t know about. I don’t want to get caught in the middle here. It’s good pay, but it isn’t worth that. That’s everything I know. I came down here a little while ago to look around. I nearly dropped dead when the car came in. I thought it was him coming back, and he’d see the office lights through the steel shutters. But it was you.”
“Find anything?” Dockerty asked.
“Not a thing,” McGay said.
“And that’s everything?”
“So help me. I just don’t want to get caught in the middle if—”
“Stick around. Do your job. Stay in town. Forget we called.”
“Sure,” McGay said eagerly. “Sure.”
Twenty minutes later, Dockerty drove up Rice’s driveway. A gateman tried to block the way, and Dockerty drove directly at him. The man jumped wildly aside at the last moment. Lights were on in the house, gleaming between heavy draperies. The gateman came hurrying over and stopped yelling when he saw who got out from behind the wheel.
Dockerty knocked at the door. He found the bell button and put his thumb on it and kept knocking while he held the bell down. It was a long, low stone house, unpleasantly fortresslike in appearance. The front door was massive.
After what seemed a long time, bright floodlights went on, momentarily dazzling them. The door opened. Rice looked out at them. He looked small. His clown face looked bleak. “Goddard. Dockerty. And who are you?”