We went into the bedrooms. Two of them had twin beds and one a large double bed with a cream-colored spread having a design in plum-colored wool stitched over it. This was the master bedroom, Bill Chess said. On a dresser of varnished wood there were toilet articles and accessories in jade green enamel and stainless steel, and an assortment of cosmetic oddments. A couple of cold cream jars had the wavy gold brand of the Gilerlain Company on them. One whole side of the room consisted of closets with sliding doors. I slid one open and peeked inside. It seemed to be full of women’s clothes of the sort they wear at resorts. Bill Chess watched me sourly while I pawed them over. I slid the door shut and pulled open a deep shoe drawer underneath. It contained at least half a dozen pairs of new-looking shoes. I heaved the drawer shut and straightened up.
Bill Chess was planted squarely in front of me, with his chin pushed out and his hard hands in knots on his hips.
“So what did you want to look at the lady’s clothes for?” he asked in an angry voice.
“Reasons,” I said. “For instance Mrs. Kingsley didn’t go home when she left here. Her husband hasn’t seen her since. He doesn’t know where she is.”
He dropped his fists, and twisted them slowly at his sides. “Dick it is,” he snarled. “The first guess is always right. I had myself about talked out of it. Boy, did I open up to you. Nellie with her hair in her lap. Boy, am I a smart little egg!”
“I can respect a confidence as well as the next fellow,” I said, and walked around him into the kitchen.
There was a big green and white combination range, a sink of lacquered yellow pine, an automatic water heater in the service porch and opening off the other side of the kitchen a cheerful breakfast room with many windows and an expensive plastic breakfast set. The shelves were gay with colored dishes and glasses and a set of pewter serving dishes.
Everything was in apple-pie order. There were no dirty cups or plates on the drain board, no smeared glasses or empty liquor bottles hanging around. There were no ants and no flies. Whatever loose living Mrs. Derace Kingsley indulged in she managed without leaving the usual Greenwich Village slop behind her.
I went back to the living room and out on the front porch again and waited for Bill Chess to lock up. When he had done that and turned to me with his scowl well in place I said: “I didn’t ask you to take your heart out and squeeze it for me, but I didn’t try to stop you either. Kingsley doesn’t have to know his wife made a pass at you, unless there’s a lot more behind all this than I can see now.”
“The hell with you,” he said, and the scowl stayed right where it was.
“All right, the hell with me. Would there be any chance your wife and Kingsley’s wife went away together?”
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“After you went to drown your troubles they could have had a fight and made up and cried down each other’s necks. Then Mrs. Kingsley might have taken your wife down the hill. She had to have something to ride in, didn’t she?”
It sounded silly, but he took it seriously enough.
“Nope. Muriel didn’t cry down anybody’s neck. They left the weeps out of Muriel. And if she did want to cry on a shoulder, she wouldn’t have picked little roundheels. And as for transportation she has a Ford of her own. She couldn’t drive mine easily on account of the way the controls are switched over for my stiff leg.”
“It was just a passing thought,” I said.
“If any more like it pass you, let them go right on,” he said.
“For a guy that takes his long wavy hair down in front of complete strangers, you’re pretty damn touchy,” I said.
He took a step towards me. “Want to make something of it?”
“Look, pal,” I said. “I’m working hard to think you are a fundamentally good egg. Help me out a little, can’t you?”
He breathed hard for a moment and then dropped his hands and spread them helplessly. “Boy, can I brighten up anybody’s afternoon,” he sighed. “Want to walk back around the lake?”
“Sure, if your leg will stand it.”
“Stood it plenty of times before.”
We started off side-by-side, as friendly as puppies again. It would probably last all of fifty yards. The roadway, barely wide enough to pass a car, hung above the level of the lake and dodged between high rocks. About half way to the far end another smaller cabin was built on a rock foundation. The third was well beyond the end of the lake, on a patch of almost level ground. Both were closed up and had that long-empty look.
Bill Chess said after a minute or two: “That straight goods little roundheels lammed off?”
“So it seems.”
“You a real dick or just a shamus?”
“Just a shamus.”
“She go with some other guy?”
“I should think it likely.”
“Sure she did. It’s a cinch. Kingsley ought to be able to guess that. She had plenty of friends.”
“Up here?”
He didn’t answer me.
“Was one of them named Lavery?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said.
“There’s no secret about this one,” I said.”She sent a wire from El Paso saying she and Lavery were going to Mexico.” I dug the wire out of my pocket and held it out. He fumbled his glasses loose from his shirt and stopped to read it. He handed the paper back and put his glasses away again and stared out over the blue water.
“That’s a little confidence for you to hold against some of what you gave me,” I said.
“Lavery was up here once,” he said slowly.
“He admits he saw her a couple of months ago, probably up here. He claims he hasn’t seen her since. We don’t know whether to believe him. There’s no reason why we should and no reason why we shouldn’t.”
“She isn’t with him now, then?”
“He says not.”
“I wouldn’t think she would fuss with little details like getting married,” he said soberly. “A Florida honeymoon would be more in her line.”
“But you can’t give me any positive information? You didn’t see her go or hear anything that sounded authentic?”
“Nope,” he said. “And if I did, I doubt if I would tell. I’m dirty, but not that kind of dirty.”
“Well, thanks for trying,” I said.
“I don’t owe you any favors,” he said. “The hell with you and every other God damn snooper.”
“Here we go again,” I said.
We had come to the end of the lake now. I left him standing there and walked out on a little pier. I leaned on the wooden railing at the end of it and saw that what had looked like a band pavilion was nothing but two pieces of propped up wall meeting at a flat angle towards the dam. About two feet deep of overhanging roof was stuck on the wall, like a coping. Bill Chess came up behind me and leaned on the railing at my side.
“Not that I don’t thank you for the liquor,” he said.
“Yeah. Any fish in the lake?”
“Some smart old bastard of trout. No fresh stock. I don’t go for fish much myself. I don’t bother with them. Sorry I got tough again.”
I grinned and leaned on the railing and stared down into the deep still water. It was green when you looked down into it. There was a swirl of movement down there and a swift greenish form moved in the water.
“There’s Granpa,” Bill Chess said. “Look at the size of that old bastard. He ought to be ashamed of himself getting so fat.”
Down below the water there was what looked like an underwater flooring. I couldn’t see the sense of that. I asked him.
“Used to be a boat landing before the dam was raised. That lifted the water level so far the old landing was six feet under.”