“So act. What do I know about buildings, anyway? If you guys say it’s all right, then it’s all right with me. I’ll go along with whatever you decide.”
As soon as he hung up, the manager bore down on him. “Look. Mr. Paff, Moose is late again. I called his house, and he wasn’t home. I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Well, why don’t you go out and grab a bite. I’ll cover for you, and I’ll get somebody for tonight. Frank over at the Maiden Alley said he could work any night except Friday.”
“Well, what if Moose comes in?”
“If he comes in while I’m here. I’ll fire him. And if he doesn’t show up. I’ll tell him tomorrow he’s through. Look, don’t take too long; I’ve got an appointment.”
“Sure, Mr. Paff, I’ll just get a hamburger and a cup of coffee. Say, I know a young fellow who if you hire him. I know he’d be reliable and—”
“We’ll talk about it. You go and eat now.”
He started for the door, but Paff called after him. “Say, have the cops been in again since—”
“Oh, don’t worry about them, Mr. Paff. I know how to handle them.”
“Well, that’s what I wanted to tell you. Lay off. Don’t rile them. Understand?”
“Oh, sure, Mr. Paff.”
“Don’t act flip. Just cooperate.”
While the other was gone, the phone rang. It was Dr. Edelstein. “Meyer? Your wife gave me this number, and said I might catch you here. I just got a call, and I got to go clear down to Lawrence for a consultation.”
“But, Doc, Kermit Arons can’t make it. He got to go to his sister-in-law’s anniversary party, and now you—”
“It’s a man’s life, Meyer.”
Parked under the streetlamp opposite Hillson House, Meyer Paff decided that he would wait just five more minutes for Irving Kallen and then leave. It was easier to get money out of his friends than work, he reflected bitterly. He was not merely annoyed; he was physically uncomfortable. Because of the rain he had to keep the car window up, and it was hot and sticky inside. He could have gone into the house—he had the key—but he remembered what Begg had said about vandals having broken in there on occasion, and he did not want to go in alone. Besides, half-hidden behind its overgrown hedge, the house now looked dark and forbidding. And the thunder and lightning didn’t help things any.
He glanced at his watch and saw that he had been there almost half an hour. He looked uncertainly down the road and. seeing no car approaching, turned on the ignition and drove off.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
… No ma’am, you notify the electric company. But I can tell you there’s no need to call them either. They know about it. The power is out in all that part of town. The storm knocked out the substation.”
Sergeant Hanks turned to Patrolman Smith, who had unbuttoned his tunic and was relaxing with a cup of coffee. “Boy, what a night! Must be a hundred people calling the electric company and then calling us when they can’t get them.”
Smith smiled sympathetically, but the sergeant was back at the phone again. “Barnard’s Crossing Police Department, Sergeant Hanks speaking… Yes, Mr. Begg… Oh yes, that’s one of the houses the cruising car checks regular… No sir, nothing was called in… You say it was lit up?… That’s funny—all power in that part of town is out. You don’t have lights, do you?… Oh, before… No, sir, I was not talking to my girl and not to my wife either… Well, I’m sorry about that, but people been calling in almost constantly for the last hour or so about the lights… Yes sir. I’ll have the cruising car check….”
He wheeled around in his swivel chair. “Son of a bitch!”
“Begg? No two opinions on him,” said the patrolman. “Did I ever tell you about the time he—”
“I better call the cruising car,” the sergeant interrupted. “It would be just like him to keep tabs on the time. Hear me. Bob?… Hanks… When did you pass Tarlow’s Point?… Uh-huh… Well, take a run down there, will you? Old man Begg claims he saw a light there… No, just before the transformer blew… Okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
They drove three in the front seat. Didi between the two boys. Stu turned the wipers to high speed to take care of the rain lashing against the windshield. “I sure don’t envy that Jenkins riding a motorcycle in this kind of weather.”
“Oh, he can always duck in someplace until it lets up.” said Jacobs.
They parked in front of Hillson House, and Stu dug a flashlight out of the glove compartment and snapped on the beam.
“Hey,” said Jacobs, “the door is open.”
“Maybe Moose woke up and just walked out.” said Stu hopefully.
“Could be, but we better take a look around. Here, let me have the flash.” Bill mounted the stairs with Stu behind him. He pushed open the front door and cast the light around the room. Then he led the way down the hall to the study, where they had left Moose. He stopped at the threshold and focused the beam on the couch. What looked like a giant cocoon in silvery white plastic was resting on top of it.
Stu giggled nervously. “Geez, you sure wrapped him good. What did you put it over his head for?”
But Jacobs was already at the couch. “We didn’t leave him like that. Help me!”
The figure was completely encased in the sheet, the top flap of which had been folded over the head and tucked tightly into the folds enwrapping the body.
Jacobs yanked at the flap frantically and then, with Stu’s help, pulled the rest of the sheet from the body. The face was curiously white. Jacobs felt the forehead and cheeks. They were cold. He handed the flashlight to Stu and began to rub the hands of the figure on the couch. Then he dropped them in distaste.
“What’s the matter?” Stu whispered. “I think he’s dead.”
He thrust his hand underneath the shirt to see if he could feel a heartbeat.
“You can’t tell that way.” said Stu. “You got to hold something like a mirror up to his lips.”
“I haven’t got a mirror.” said Bill savagely. “Put the lens of the flash to his mouth.”
Stu offered the flashlight, but Bill said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
They started to walk out and then broke into a run. They clattered down the steps and then raced to the car. Stu pulled the car door open while Bill ran around the front to the other side.
“Where’s Moose?” asked Didi as she moved over to let Stu get behind the wheel.
“Never mind.” He turned on the ignition, but before he could shift to DRIVE a car zoomed toward them, veered over, and came to a stop immediately in front, its headlights on high beam shining in their eyes. Stu’s door was pulled open by a policeman with a gun in his hand. “Hold it.” he commanded. “Now come out, all of you.”
Chapter Thirty
Harvey Kanter, Ben Gorfinkle’s brother-in-law, was ten years his senior. Although in private he was radical, atheistic, and irreverent, in public, as the managing editor of the Lynn Times-Herald, he was Republican, conservative, and a staunch defender of the status quo. He wrote editorials supporting book censorship, prayers in the schools, law and order in the cities, and attacked student rioting, the coddling of criminals, and the hippie movement. He was a tall, rangy man, with a shock of iron-gray hair brushed back impatiently. Everything about him was impatient. He was nervous, fidgety; he could not sit still; he either got up and paced the floor, or if he remained seated, he would slide forward to rest on the end of his spine or pull a leg under him or slouch around if the chair permitted it so that his head was on one arm and his legs on the other.