Raoul went out to the pool and spoke with Francisca and then hurried away.
Sam phoned Lydia Jean at her mother’s home in Corpus. “Sam? Where are you? Why are you still over there?”
“It’s a long story, honey. But right now I want you to do me a favor.”
“Such as?”
“Two friends of mine are leaving here this evening and driving right on through. What I want you to do, honey, is go back home and open the house up and...”
“Now just a minute!”
“It isn’t a trick. You’re the only one I’d trust to handle the situation. The girl is an emotional disaster area. She and her guy are in a strange kind of a jam. He can explain it to you better than I can. And it is important to get them married as fast as we can arrange it, as you can arrange it. I think you can put more leverage on my partner than I can in a situation like this.”
“Married?”
“If it could be done with a few trimmings, I think it would help. And at the house. I know this is a hell of a thing to ask...”
“Who are these people?”
“His name is Raoul Kelly and he looks like somebody’s gardener, but don’t be deceived. Francisca Torceda is her name, very beautiful, and racked up so bad maybe she makes it, maybe she doesn’t. You could have a lot to do about that, and it could be worth it.”
“These are important people, Sam? Is that why you want me to...”
“They are very important people. I am going to have my neck way out for them here, and somebody might chop it pretty good.”
“Very important. Yes, dear. I understand you perfectly.”
“She’s a housemaid and he’s a newspaper reporter, and they’ll have every personal thing they own in that car with them, and if I can get them out of this jam, my fee is going to be five dollars, and I probably won’t see either of them again ever. But they are very important.”
“Is that the truth?”
“I swear it.”
“I wasn’t going to do it.”
“I know. Why should you? Sam Boylston always looks out for Sam Boylston, and uses you or anybody else.”
“Or,” she said slowly, “Sam Boylston makes a big, fat gesture. He imitates an honest to God human being for a little while, and I might fall for it. Oh, Sam! What are you trying to do to me?”
“Set you up, kid. I hired this couple from an acting studio. See if you can trip them up, then you can hate me forever.”
“I’ve never hated you!”
“Resent me forever, then. Do I keep my word?”
“So scrupulously it’s almost irritating.”
“Word of honor, then. I won’t come near the house until they’re gone and you’ve had a chance to go back to Corpus. I happen to need some help from somebody — with more than their share of sympathy and understanding, at least toward everybody but me.”
“Now why do you have to...”
“Will you do it? Please, Lyd... Lyd?”
“Oh, I’m still here. I’ll drive down early tomorrow.”
“Thanks, dear.”
“Are you going to get into some kind of trouble there?”
“I don’t know. And I can’t seem to give too much of a damn. Maybe — maybe no matter how careful you are, no matter how well you play the percentages, They bitch you anyway, one way or another. They get at you through the side door. The rain comes down, baby, and we’ve all got sixteen buckets and seventeen holes in the roof.”
“Have you had some drinks?”
“Not yet today, but it’s a creative suggestion.”
“You sound so strange. When will those people get to Harlingen?”
“I’d guess it’s around seventeen hundred miles. I’m going to tell him to take a break midway. Make it late Wednesday.”
“Will he be able to tell me why you’re acting so strange, Sam?”
“I don’t know.”
Kelly’s girl swam for a long time. She was showering when Kelly returned.
Lobwohl swiveled his chair and put his heels on the corner of his desk, ankles crossed. “Let’s let her stew another ten or fifteen minutes before we give her another session. Agree?”
Scheff nodded. He reached and picked up the ID sheet which had been transmitted over the wire from Atlanta and looked at it again. Cristen Harkinson, ten years younger. Smudged pictures, indistinct in outline, flawed by wire-relay technique. But in both the full face and profile the look of surly defiance was quite obvious. Also known as Crissy Harker, Chris Harkins, Christy Harvey. Five arrests. Soliciting, public prostitution, conspiracy to defraud. Two convictions, with each time, a hundred dollar fine and a suspended sentence.
“Between the lines,” Kindler said, “you read pretty good protection. Not a free-lance situation. What it was, there’s always pressure on the operation. League of decency, PTA and so forth. So they run like a roster on the hookers, an arrest once in a while. It takes the civilian pressure off the department, and it’s a good way to keep the broads in line. A high-price call circuit, they get uppity, and give each of them a record of convictions, it locks them into the circuit and keeps them from getting ideas, or leaving the business.”
“But she left,” Lobwohl said. “From the only rumor I could pick up, she was one of a pack they brought down to stock a party at Key West around eight years ago, and that’s where she met Fontaine and he took her over.”
“So what was she then?” Kindler said. “Twenty-seven maybe? Twenty-eight. You could guess special enough to be a good earner, but easier to pry her loose than if she was twenty. I’d say what Fontaine did was maybe ask a favor of a friend in a political way in Georgia, and maybe he had to sweeten it with cash to make them let go, and maybe he didn’t. Anyway, as the name was the same here as there, we didn’t have to work through a print classification for the ID on her.”
Lobwohl, frowning, tugging at his nose, said, “All these nice prints on record, and Harv can’t pick up a partial down there of any one of them, but we have that palm print on the rim of the tub, nice and fresh and clear, and Harv says the size could indicate a woman, but you know and I know what will happen if Lab asks her to please press her little patties against the Stockis block and then against the pretty white paper. She has to be tough and smart. The longer we can keep this absolutely voluntary, the better chance we have of catching her in contradiction. I’d sure God like to prove she was there, egging the kid on.”
“How about this?” Scheff said. “Let me be dumb guy. It won’t be too hard to act like she gives me some ideas. I let on you’ve got a good reason to believe she was at number ten, and you’re going to try to trick her, and maybe she should yell for a lawyer. Then we see how she jumps. If she yells for the lawyer, we could take a chance on booking her and taking the palm print for Harv.”
“Give it a try,” Lobwohl said.
When Scheff sent the matron out to wait in the hall, Crissy Harkinson jumped up and threw her cigarette on the floor, stepped on it and said, “I am getting damned sick of being stuck here all day long, Sergeant.”
“Scheff. Barney Scheff. Just be a little patient, Mrs. Harkinson.”
“Patient!”
He winked at her, held his fingers to his lips, then pointed at the ventilation grill. All the interrogation rooms were wired, and he guessed she would realize that also. But she looked astonished and indignant. He went up to her and put his mouth close to her ear and in an almost soundless whisper said, “I want to do you a little favor, Crissy. Maybe sometime I can drop around your place and explain why I’m doing it. Okay?”
She gave an abrupt little nod.
“What I think you better do, you better shut your mouth until you get a lawyer in here.”