They rode home in a silence so unusual that Conway knew Bauer must be feeling very dejected indeed. “Thanks for the dinner, Sergeant,” he said as they stopped in front of the house.
“And thanks for the chance to try out my will power,” Betty said.
“Don’t mention it.”
“I’ll take you out some night when we all have better appetites,” Conway said.
“That’ll be after I’m off this case,” Bauer said. “Be seeing you,” he mumbled as he drove off.
“Maybe you’ll appreciate my cooking now,” Betty said as Conway unlocked the door. She headed straight for the icebox. “You didn’t eat enough of that wood-pulp to affect your appetite, did you?”
“I could force myself to dally with one of those steaks if it were sufficiently rare,” he said. “What a smart girl you were.”
“Not always.”
“Meaning what?”
“We’ll take that up later. Is it warm enough to eat in the patio?”
“It’ll be perfect — I’ll set up a card table. But first, I’ll manufacture a Martini or two — I think we’re entitled to it.”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “I guess you are.”
Chapter ten
The dinner was an unqualified success. They ate by candlelight in the little patio, screened from the wind and the prying eyes of any neighbors. Betty was gay and talkative, and because she kept the conversation away from the murder, or any mention of Helen, Conway was able to let down his guard and enjoy himself. It was, he realized, the first human companionship he had taken pleasure from in many months. She had read almost everything he had written, and she discussed the stories with relish and intelligence. Only once did they skirt dangerous ground, when she ventured the opinion that his more recent stories had lacked the vigor and brightness of his earlier work. She sensed his tightening, and quickly turned the conversation into other channels.
“I’m going to clear the table, stack the dishes, and do them in the morning,” she said when they finished. “You can help clear, if you like. Then we can sit down and have coffee.”
She poured the coffee and he held a match for her cigarette and looked at the lovely oval of her face in the amber glow. He was at peace now, with her, and, more important, with himself; he felt a sense of well-being, of content, as heady as a tropical night. He wished, suddenly and wholeheartedly, that she had not found the apartment, and that she might remain here. And he wanted to make amends for his churlishness since her arrival.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Fine, thanks.” She smiled up at him.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Not a thing.”
“How about some brandy? Or maybe there’s some green mint. It was a wonderful dinner — we ought to top it off with something.”
“No thanks — and,do you mind waiting, just for a little while? I don’t mean to be a wet blanket,” she added hastily. “It’s only that I don’t want you to be at all confused, and I don’t want to be — because I’ve been too much so for the past couple of days.”
“You’re being very cryptic,” he said. “You were starting to be, a little, before dinner, too.”
“I won’t be any more,” she said. “I want to get everything straight. Because I can’t stand your being suspicious of me, as you’ve been ever since I’ve been here, Oh, you had reason to be — I can see that now. But it never occurred to me. And that’s what I want to straighten out.” She was leaning toward him, eager sincerity shining in her eyes, and she looked very young.
He couldn’t help himself. “You’re utterly lovely,” he said. The words had to be spoken.
“What?” She drew back. “Don’t confuse me any more.” She hesitated a moment. “You’ve shown quite a talent for silence since I’ve been here. Don’t stop now.”
“I’d like to make up for some of that silence.”
“In a little while. But there’s something I want to say now — quite a few things, in fact.”
“I’m listening.”
She took a deep breath. “When I first heard, on the radio, of Helen’s — death, there were no details at all. But I felt — instinctively, I knew, that you’d done it.”
“What!” He had expected almost anything, but he was not prepared for quite such a stunning blow.
“Please,” she said. “I caught the first plane I could, thinking you’d be in jail when I got here. I wanted to let you know that I was on your side — that I’d be a character witness, or whatever you call it. I mean, I could have told what Helen was really like, and what justification you had. It wasn’t that I hated Helen — it’s just that there was something all wrong with her, and since Mama’s gone, I’m the only one who could have helped you.”
“Go on,” Conway said, his throat dry.
“Then when I got here and saw the papers at the airport, and read that you weren’t being held, I had to think that maybe I was wrong. That’s when I started getting confused, because I didn’t believe that sex-maniac thing for a minute.”
“You don’t know Los Angeles.”
“Maybe not. But I do know that that kind of thing just never happens to people like Helen.”
“You haven’t seen Helen for five years — how can you be so positive of what she was like? People change, you know.”
Betty nodded. “I even began to believe that, for a while. You were pretty convincing — and then it seemed to me you started overdoing it. And I got more confused, and didn’t know where I was.”
“Obviously, in a state of utter confusion.”
She shook her head. “Not now. You see, there was another thing I couldn’t understand — why you were so terribly rude, so frightfully anxious to get rid of me. And then this morning, after I left here, it suddenly came to me.”
“What did?”
“The explanation. I have to tell you this, so you’ll understand what I did. It’s going to sound terribly conceited, but — well, I’ve never known a man who’s seen as much of me as you have, who — I don’t mean it that way, and I’m sorry about the sunsuit this morning—”
“Please don’t be,” he said. “You were sheer delight this morning.”
“I’m not fishing. I only meant that I’ve never spent this much time with a man without his making some kind of a pass at me. I know that sounds awful, but — well, it didn’t seem normal. And I’m sure you are.” Conway himself, at this point, was sure of nothing. “Then I thought, ‘Maybe I’m all right for Topeka, but this is Hollywood.’ So I walked down Hollywood Boulevard, and was very observant, and the reactions seemed about the same as at home, or maybe more so. So that’s when I was certain.”
“Certain of what?”
“That there was another woman.” Conway half-rose from his chair, then collapsed again. “Then I wasn’t confused any more, because everything made sense,” she continued. “Originally I’d thought you’d probably killed Helen in a fit of rage, which would be perfectly understandable — I wanted to myself a dozen times when we were kids. But as soon as I saw you I knew you weren’t like that — you’re the long-suffering type, who’d stick until she drove you crazy.” He stared at her, unnerved by this mixture of fact and fantasy. “Or you could have gotten a divorce — Helen would have made you pay, but it would have been worth it. But — if you’d found someone else, that’s the one thing Helen would never forgive, and you’d never be able to get rid of her. So that explained why you did it, and why you could look at me as if I was painted on a wall, and why you were so anxious to get me out of the house. I even rather enjoyed thinking how jealous of me she must be — the woman, I mean.”