“Gee, Bingo,” Handsome said. “Do you think we’re right?”
“You’re right,” a voice behind them answered, “but it won’t do you a damn bit of good.”
The first person they saw when they turned was Lois Lattimer alias Lois DeLee alias April Robin alias Abigail Ross. She was blond and slender and delicate-looking and extremely gorgeous and she didn’t look a day over thirty-two. The pearl-handled revolver in the fist of the gentleman with her didn’t look a caliber over .32.
The gentleman with her was dark and small, with graying hair and gloomy eyes and a poetic mouth. Bingo imagined he was Julien Lattimer. He didn’t have to ask them how they’d got in, because he assumed as past owners of the house they both possessed keys. He knew now why Rex Strober had found the front door unlocked. He didn’t have to ask why they were there, either; the .32 in Julien Lattimer’s hand was unwavering and made the mission absolutely crystal-clear.
“Well,” Bingo said, and he had to admit to himself that the sight of the steady pistol aimed at his midsection was somewhat unnerving.
Handsome said, “April Robin.”
It was amazing how beautiful she was, Bingo thought. Even with the nose-bob — which was an expert job, but which gave her face a slightly Irish cast that didn’t quite fit with the rest of it — even with that, she was an incredibly gorgeous woman. He had to keep reminding himself that she was really forty-seven years old. He also had to keep reminding himself that there was a pistol in Julien’s hand.
Quickly he said, “If you’re worried about our idle speculations—” and then shut his mouth when Julien gestured at him with the pistol.
“Let’s get this over with,” Julien said. His voice, in keeping with his gloomy eyes, was low and sepulchral. But, despite his words, he did not seem in a particular hurry to squeeze the trigger.
“You’re not really going to kill us, are you?” Bingo said hopefully. “After all, you didn’t kill Charlie Browne, and you had more reason—”
“They should have killed him, Bingo,” Handsome said. “They were just stupid, that’s all.” Bingo blinked. Handsome’s tone had been completely surprising, and besides, this was certainly no time to be insulting these people. To Bingo’s horror, Handsome added, “Plain stupid!” in as jeering a voice as he’d ever heard. He braced himself for the gun explosion he was sure would come. Oddly, the pistol remained silent. It was April Robin who exploded instead.
“We didn’t kill him because he’d prepared a letter telling of the highway accident!” she said heatedly. “If Browne died, the letter would be delivered to the police. That’s why we didn’t kill him when he first made his exorbitant demands. And that’s why we don’t kill him now. That letter is still around. There was nothing stupid about—”
“Of course not,” Bingo said quickly, trying to placate the rising anger. “But it would be stupid to kill two people who really don’t know anything at all.” He tried a feeble grin. “We don’t know that you really killed Chester Baxter or Pearl Durzy. We simply don’t—”
“We did kill them!” April snapped. Her eyes remained on Handsome, as if she was intent on proving something to him. “Baxter, because he followed us; and Pearl, because she got panicky when Browne was showing you through the house.”
“I don’t understand,” Handsome said.
“Then maybe you’re the stupid one,” April said triumphantly. “Pearl Durzy knew who I was. She kept quiet only because we promised her ownership of this house once Julien was declared legally dead.”
“So naturally,” Bingo said, turning to Handsome, “when she saw Browne leading clients through it, she got very upset and she tried to find out what was going on. Browne calmed her down temporarily. And Miss Robin made it permanent. That was very natural, Handsome. It wasn’t—”
“It was a dumb risk,” Handsome said, that same unexpected sneer in his voice.
“Now, Handsome—” Bingo started.
“It wasn’t dumb!” April said angrily. “I tried to explain to her, but she wouldn’t listen to reason. And it wasn’t risky. We were drinking together. I put the knockout drops in her glass. And then I left her with the carbon tetrachloride and took her money. We needed it. Seven years is a long and expensive time to wait.”
Handsome nodded silently. If he had any desire to comment further, he certainly was restraining himself admirably, Bingo thought. And of course Handsome had very nicely led April Robin into saying a lot of things she might not have said except in anger. Unfortunately, though, the pistol was still there. And if Julien was waiting for the word from April, she seemed ready to hurl it instantaneously.
“Well, let’s not be too hasty,” Bingo said hastily. “Let’s talk a deal. We’re all businessmen and all friends.”
“We’ve got no money for further deals!” April snapped.
“The neighbors,” Bingo said desperately. “The shots’ll be heard all over the neighborhood—”
Julien reached into his pocket and snapped the silencer into place on the end of the pistol. Long and menacing, the pistol swung back toward Bingo again.
“You won’t gain anything by killing us,” Bingo said. “The police already know—”
“The police know nothing,” Julien said, leveling the pistol.
In a very quiet voice, April Robin said, “The big one first.”
The front door swung open. Mrs. Waldo Hibbing burst into the room, shouting, “Mr. Riggs! Mr. Riggs!” and then froze in her tracks when she saw the gun in Julien Lattimer’s hand. Julien whirled on her and Handsome leaped in the same instant, knocking him to the floor. The pistol clattered noisily across the bare room. April’s eyes followed its dizzying progress, and then she started to sprint after it. Bingo tripped her.
The forty-seven-year-old star, who’d disappeared twice in a single lifetime, went tumbling to the floor in a bundle of skirt and petticoat and still-superb legs. And then Handsome picked up the pistol, and April Robin suddenly looked as old as time, despite the years of slack-wire work which had preserved her youthful body; suddenly, she looked as old as Methuselah. She didn’t say a word as she got to her feet. She didn’t have to. She’d said it all when answering Handsome’s challenge.
“Oh, my goodness!” Mrs. Waldo Hibbing said. “I didn’t mean to interfere with your rehearsal. All I wanted was to...”
“Yes, Mrs. Hibbing?” Bingo said kindly.
“... was to tell you how lucky I am! Mr. Kusak arranged for me to go to the Fox studios day after tomorrow, remember?”
“Yes?”
“Well, I was just driving home in my car, and I happened to have the radio on, and guess who’s going to start filming a movie at Fox day after tomorrow? Just guess who I’ll get a chance to see on the set?”
“Who?” Bingo asked.
“Gregory Peck!” Mrs. Hibbing said ecstatically. “Why, he’s one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. I just had to come in and tell you. When I saw your light burning... I was so excited, you see... why, he’s just one of the biggest stars in Hollywood!”
April Robin looked at Mrs. Hibbing somewhat curiously, somewhat regretfully. Perhaps she was remembering, Bingo thought, perhaps she was remembering.
“I’ll call Hendenfelder,” Handsome said, handing the gun to Bingo.
“Yes,” Bingo answered. “And then we’d better call Janesse Budlong to get that long-term contract. And Adelle Lattimer about our cut; she’ll get her back alimony now.” He smiled at Handsome. “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” Handsome said, walking to the phone. “You?”
Bingo’s smile widened. “I’m fine, too. Just fine. But—”
“Yes, Bingo?”
For a fleeting moment, Bingo thought of New York City and sidewalk pictures, of tourists posing near the skating rink at Rockefeller Center, and carriages waiting outside the Plaza, of July heat and October brilliance and January snow. Then he grinned at his partner and said, “Nothing, Handsome. Everything’s just fine,” and Handsome began dialing the police.