She put her hands over her ears. “I don’t have to listen to you! I don’t have to talk to you! Go away! Go away or I’ll scream!”
“You are screaming,” he said.
“I can scream louder.”
“I’ll bet you can. But you don’t want to see the police any sooner than you have to, so let’s play it calm, eh? You can’t drown out the truth by screaming.”
“What you think isn’t necessarily the truth.”
“Then why all the reacting? Simmer down. Do some thinking. Your story doesn’t hold up. The police won’t believe it any more than I do.”
“I can’t help...”
“You can help. Tell the truth. Do you know where Kellogg is?”
“No.”
“You haven’t seen him since he left the office at noon?”
“No.”
“Or been in touch with him?”
“No.”
“Miss Burton, a woman has disappeared and a man has been killed. Under those circumstances, withholding information is a very serious matter.”
“I have no information, for you or anyone else.”
“Well, I have some for you.” He paused, letting her wait, giving her time to wonder, to worry. “When Kellogg left town he wasn’t alone. He took his girl friend with him.”
She didn’t move and no expression crossed her face, but a column of color rose up from her neck to her cheek-bones and the tips of her ears. “That’s a very old and very cheap trick, Mr. Dodd.”
“For your sake, I wish it were a trick. But it happens to be a fact. They were seen together at noon, and again later when he picked up the dog at the kennel.”
“I don’t believe it. If he had a — a woman with him it must have been his wife.”
“Not a chance. The girl was a pretty blonde, years younger than his wife.”
“Younger.” She mouthed the word as if it had an acrid taste but must be swallowed.
“Twenty-two, twenty-three.”
“What’s her — name?”
“If I knew, I’d tell you.”
She was silent, huddling inside her yellow coat for protection, not from the wind outside but from the storm inside. She said at last, “I guess you’ve told me enough for tonight.”
“I had to. I can’t watch a woman like you jeopardize herself for a worthless man without trying to stop you.”
“How do you know what kind of woman I am?”
“I do know. I knew last night when I talked to you at the dancing academy.” It seemed, to Dodd, a very long time ago.
She glanced at him bitterly. “I suppose you followed me last night when I went home after class.”
“You didn’t go home, Miss Burton.”
“So you were following me.”
“No.”
“Then how can you be sure where I went?”
“Kellogg told me.”
“That’s a lie. He doesn’t know you, he’s never spoken to you in his life.”
“Let’s say his actions spoke for him. This morning he used his power of attorney to take fifteen thousand dollars out of his wife’s bank account. I deduced that someone had warned him I was on his trail. You.”
He guessed from her shocked expression that it was the first time she’d heard about the money and the power of attorney. He pressed his advantage: “Did Kellogg forget to mention the fifteen thousand to you? He has a convenient memory.”
“It was — the money was — is — none of my business.”
“Even if he used it to skip town with a blonde? I suppose he also forgot to mention the blonde.”
“You’re a bad man,” she said in a whisper. “A hateful man.”
“If, by that, you mean you hate me, I’ll have to accept it. If you mean I’m full of hate, I must correct you. I’m not full of hate. I wish you well, I’d like to help you.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you’re a nice girl, who’s doing some wrong things with the right intentions.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Let’s say ill-advised, then.” He jammed his fists into the pockets of his topcoat as if to prevent them from taking a poke at someone. “You went to Kellogg’s house last night to warn him. I know that, so don’t bother denying it. Now listen. This is important. You went to the front door and Kellogg let you in?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a long hall with several rooms off it. Did you walk down that hall?”
“Yes.”
“Were the doors to those rooms open or closed?”
“Open.” “Where did you and Kellogg talk?”
“In the den, at the back of the house.”
“Did you go into any of the other rooms?”
“Just what are you getting at?” she said shrilly. “Are you implying that he and I...”
“Please answer.”
“I went to the bathroom. Make something of that. I went to the bathroom, and combed my hair and washed my face because I’d been crying! Now make something of it!”
He looked pained, as if the thought of her crying depressed him. “I’m not going to ask you why you were crying, Miss Burton. I don’t even want to know. Just tell me one thing. Did you get the impression, while you were there, that someone else might be living in the house besides Kellogg?”
“I suppose you mean the blonde?”
“You suppose wrong. I mean Amy.”
“Amy.” One corner of her mouth jerked upward in a sudden little half-smile. “That’s a funny idea, that’s really funny.” She drew in her breath and held it like a swimmer about to go underwater. “No, Amy wasn’t in the house, Mr. Dodd. Not alive, anyway, not listening, not able to listen.”
“How can you be sure?”
“He would never have said the things he did if anyone else had been there. Especially Amy.”
So the bastard made love to her, some degree of love. Dodd found himself wondering, too hard, what degree of love. “Thank you, Miss Burton. I realize how difficult it was for you to tell...”
“Don’t thank me. Just please leave me alone.”
“Are you going home?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll drive you. My car’s just down the street.”
“No. No thanks. There’s a bus due in five minutes.”
So she even knows the bus schedule, Dodd thought. That means she’s made a lot of trips to these parts, too many. “Well, at least let me walk you to the corner.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“All right. Go by yourself. Good night.”
Neither of them moved.
He said brusquely, “Hurry up or you’ll miss your bus.”
“I wish I knew what side, whose side, you were on in this business.”
“I was hired to find Amy. Kellogg’s various extracurricular activities, like murder, theft, adultery, don’t interest me except to the extent that they might lead me to Amy. Dead or alive. So you might say I’m on nobody’s side. I could be on yours, but you don’t want to play it that way.”
“No.”
“That suits me. I work better as a free agent anyway.” He turned to leave. “Good night.”
“Wait. Just a minute. Mr. Dodd, you can’t — you can’t really believe Rupert did all those things.”
“I can. I’m only sorry you can’t.”
“I have — faith in him.”
“Yeah. Well. That’s that, isn’t it?”
He wondered how long her faith would last after she’d had a talk with the police.
They were waiting for him at Kellogg’s house, a sergeant whom he didn’t recognize, and Inspector Ravick whom he did. Only a few hours before, the place had been, except for the dead man in the kitchen, very orderly and well-kept. Now it was a shambles; the furniture had been disarranged, cigarette butts and used flash bulbs were scattered on the floors, rugs were caked with mud, and everything in the kitchen, walls and woodwork, stove, refrigerator, sink, taps, chairs, bore the black smudges of fingerprint powder.