“I forgot about the pups. Why didn’t you take my car?”
I didn’t want to admit the mood I was in when I left the Dwight estate so I lied to him: “I thought I’d drive my own car back... just in case something came up and we had to go in two directions in a hurry.”
“U-m-m.” He sounded a bit skeptical. “Laura Yates said you legged it away from here as though you had ants in your pants.”
I disregarded that, and repeated what Jelcoe had told me over the telephone.
“That message may be the break I’ve been waiting for, Asa. I should have kept in touch with the office and gotten it when it came. Rush it out as soon as you get hold of it.”
I told him I would, and asked if he still had everything under control.
“As far as I know... with the gang I’ve got cooped up here. I don’t think there are any new corpses... yet.”
“What about Rodriguez?”
“He was as full of information as the others,” Burke grunted disgustedly. “That telegram from Washington may be the key to a lot of things, Asa. Don’t delay getting it here. It’s a confidential report on Rufus Hardiman, and may be the lever we need to start the ball rolling.”
I promised again that I’d bring it right out, hung up and stepped out on my front porch. Nip and Tuck came wagging up with reproachful faces and I squatted down to explain to them that I was on the trail of a story that would buy them lots of dog-biscuits and that they would have to be patient with me for a little longer.
They snuggled down beside me and seemed to understand. Or, not understanding, they trusted me and were perfectly satisfied to enjoy the moment.
Lucky they weren’t detectives, I thought to myself, or they wouldn’t even be able to trust me. With a hand on each coarsely-furred head I let my thoughts drift to the collection of suspects Burke had herded together at the Dwight mansion.
I didn’t trust any of them. Not even Laura. Laura, perhaps, least of all. And that was the hell of it.
I wanted to trust her. And that made me distrust myself. I know I’m saying it very badly. I feel it’s impossible to deal with a thing like this honestly in retrospect. I’m trying to define emotions that were intangible.
I tried not to think about Laura... but I couldn’t think about anything else.
A motorcycle slid to a stop in front of my gate. A uniformed man came up the walk and asked me if I was Asa Baker. I told him I was and he gave me a thick yellow envelope which had been opened and resealed. I sat there with it in my hands while his motorcycle roared off.
Then I gave my brains a shake and called the Scotties inside. They mournfully followed me to the kitchen where I filled their bowl with fresh water and replenished their supply of dog biscuits.
Their eyes followed me accusingly as I went out the back door toward the garage.
An instinct warned me, too late, of danger as I passed the black shadow of the hedge.
I whirled in time to see a shadowy figure and an arm coming down in a chopping motion. I fell a hell of a distance and hit bottom with an awful thud. Then everything was blacked out for me.
15
Two Scottie tongues were frantically rasping over my face when I came up from the depths. Tuck whimpered and pawed at me when I sat up. Nip crouched down on the floor with her ears back and a deep worry-line creasing her forehead.
I was lying just inside the kitchen door and I didn’t have the slightest idea how I’d gotten there. I sat on the floor with my head in my hands for a minute, trying to recall what had happened, but my only memory was of seeing an arm coming down. I didn’t even know whether my assailant was a man or a woman.
Then I thought about Burke’s important telegram. It was gone. My wallet with its few small bills was still in my pocket. Nothing was missing except the telegram.
Feeling like hell-before-breakfast, I got up and stumbled into the bathroom, where I doused my head in cold water. There was a nasty bump on the back of my head, but no other damage.
In the living room I damn near passed out again when I saw by the clock that it was eleven-thirty. I’d been unconscious for hours — instead of minutes, as I first thought.
I started for the telephone to call Burke; changed my mind and went into the bedroom, where I got my .38 and threw a cartridge under the hammer; picked up a flashlight in the kitchen and again went out the back way toward the garage.
There was a scuffed trail on the dirt walk showing where I had been dragged to the kitchen. I wasted thirty seconds at the spot where I had been attacked without finding anything, then went on in the garage and backed my car out.
With the wind-wing turned to throw night air in my face, I drove slowly out Piedras. I felt like a nitwit to have had such a thing happen to me, and I couldn’t rationalize the setup at all.
Someone was after the telegram. Someone who knew I had it and was taking it to Burke. Someone who wanted it badly enough to take a chance on murder to gain possession of it. Yet, someone who was kind enough to drag me back into my kitchen after knocking me out cold.
It didn’t make sense.
There was a hammer pounding inside my head and my thinking processes didn’t jell any too well. I speeded up when I began wondering what had happened in McKelligon’s Canyon during the hours I had lost. I had to step on the brake hard to make the turn into the Dwight estate, and I took the slope in second gear with the accelerator all the way down.
A man came running toward me from the front lawn when I pulled up and parked.
It was Jerry Burke, hatless and worried. “For God’s sake, Asa, where have you been?”
I leaned on the steering wheel and told him what had happened. He drew in a long breath of relief when I finished.
“I couldn’t figure it out. I called your house twice and no one answered... thought you must have started out here and run into an accident. Half the cops in El Paso are combing the city for you or your car. I’d better go in and phone Jelcoe to call them off.”
I put my hand on his arm as he started away. “Wait a minute, Jerry. Who socked me?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
“Anyone...” My voice was weak, “...from here?”
“I don’t know how anyone from here could have known about the telegram.” He paused, rubbing his jaw. “Laura Yates slipped away soon after you left. She must have shorted the ignition wires on her car to get it started without a key.”
“Before or after I called you, Jerry?”
“I’m trying to think. I can’t be sure, damn it. It was after you called when I noticed that she wasn’t around.”
“Anyone else been missing?”
“Hardiman was gone for a short time. I let him go to the city for some cigars. But he’s been back for an hour or more. I’ve been out here walking up and down and wondering what the hell had become of you. I’ve been too busy to keep track of Desta, but nothing she could do would surprise me.”
“Did either Laura or Hardiman overhear our telephone conversation?”
He shook his head positively. “I was in the butler’s cubbyhole and there was no one close enough to hear. But there are extension telephones scattered all over the house. Every one of them might have been listening in. I haven’t tried to check because I didn’t know it had any bearing on the fact that you were missing.”
I got out of the car dizzily. Hardiman and Laura! I was positive that Hardiman wouldn’t have bothered to drag me back to the kitchen after slugging me. What about Desta? I had a hunch she had a queer streak a yard wide and was capable of anything.
I followed Burke into the house and stood in the hall while he got Jelcoe on the phone and told him to call off the search for me and come on out to the Dwight estate. Coming out, he filled his pipe and said: