“And that’s all you know about her?”
Peel hesitated. “Yeah.”
Temple frowned. “We decided that you would talk freely, didn’t we?”
“I’m talking.”
“But not enough.” Temple looked pointedly at Willie.
Peel said irascibly, “Linda came to the agency. She wanted us to find Susan Sawyer. Said Susan disappeared a week ago and she hadn’t seen her since.”
Temple cocked his head to one side and looked skeptically at Joe Peel. “But you said you’d talked to Susan at the apartment only the day before yesterday.”
“I’m just telling you what Linda said to me. Susan was never missing.”
“Then why should Linda employ your agency — I take it she did that — to find her?”
Peel shrugged. “Clients never tell us the truth. Like you. You handed Beagle a lot of pap, too, about wanting to make restitution to Seymour Case.” He grunted. “What you probably want to do is shake him down all over again.”
“We won’t go into that. You said this Linda Meadows hired you to find Susan. Yet you say Susan was never missing. Why, then, did Linda come to you?”
“I told you she lied to me. I don’t know her real reason.”
“What is her connection with the man who calls himself Smallwood?”
“You saw them together today. Draw your own conclusions.”
“I have. I wondered what yours were.”
“They’re clients. I don’t—”
“They?” Temple said sharply. “They are clients?”
Peel swore under his breath. “Linda hired the agency—”
“You said They!”
Peel shot a quick look at Willie. “A slip of the tongue.”
“No, it wasn’t. There was that business between you and Beagle this morning, when he wanted you to point out Smallwood to me and you didn’t want to. Then he wrote a note to you.” He made a shrewd guess. “Asking you to act as Smallwood’s bodyguard?”
Peel exhaled heavily. “Smallwood hired the agency yesterday. He was afraid someone was going to do something to him.”
“That’s better.” Temple nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly exclaimed, “You said your employer, Beagle, has a penchant for making cases. I take it, then, he told Smallwood about me.”
“No,” Peel said promptly. “I’m sure he didn’t. Beagle’s as honest as the next guy — when he isn’t hard up. But he wasn’t hard up today. He already had a client — two of them, in fact You and Linda.”
Temple was becoming unhappier by the moment He sighed and said, “We keep coming back to Linda Meadows. Has it occurred to you that there are too many coincidences in your story? Linda Meadows’ roommate is advertising in the Lonely Hearts newspaper. Linda Meadows is employed by a member of the Lonely Hearts Club. Linda Meadows’ roommate is working the badger game. Linda Meadows is your client Linda Meadows’ employer is your client.” He stopped. “You’re a private detective? Those coincidences must have occurred to you.”
“They have.”
“And?”
“Linda Meadows is also wearing Susan Sawyer’s mink stole.”
“And Linda Meadows is also my former wife.”
“What? Beagle said you showed him a picture of Susan Sawyer.”
“I was pretty sure if you’d find Susan you’d find Linda and at the moment I didn’t want to reveal my interest in Linda.”
Peel stared at Temple. “You said you hadn’t seen your wife in three years. Then how were you able to get the picture of Susan Sawyer? They’d never even met each other then.”
Temple smiled. “They’ve known each other all their lives. They grew up together in the same small Iowa town. They were living together when I... I married Linda. During the brief period of our married life they were separated, but I was pretty sure they’d get together again.”
“That just proves what I said,” Peel said bitterly, “that you can’t believe a word a client tells you.” He suddenly winced. “Then it was Linda who worked the badger game with you, not Susan.”
“Correct.”
“And Susan?”
Temple shrugged. “I don’t know. She had an odd streak of morality. I may be wrong, she may have gone along with Linda recently, but I have a feeling that she knew nothing about it.”
“Oh, yes, she did!” exclaimed Peel. Then he frowned. “She let me call her Linda, led me along — to a point. Yet...” He paused. “On the other hand, that would account for some things...”
“You think perhaps she just found out what Linda was doing?”
“I’ve got a funny feeling that she was playing it straight with Dave Corey.”
A gleam came into Charleton Temple’s eyes. “I see.” He looked at both Willie and Freddie. “Gentlemen, I have a little proposition to make to you. If you will step out with me a moment...”
“Sure,” said Freddie.
The three men left Peel alone in the little room. But he could hear the murmur of their voices in the main part of the barn and since that was the only exit, he knew that he could not go past them. He looked at the little window. There was a possibility...
He stepped to it, saw that the frame was nailed down to the sill. It could be broken, of course, but that would make noise.
Then Willie and Freddie returned.
“Sorry, laddie,” said Willie. “We just made a new deal. Oh, don’t worry, we ain’t going to knock you off. We’re just going to stay here and keep you company.”
“How long?”
Willie shrugged. “Until.”
“Until when?”
“Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. Until we get the word. Now, just take it easy and we won’t have no trouble.”
“Of course,” added Freddie, “we don’t mind a certain amount of trouble. We’re gettin’ paid for it and it helps to kill time.”
18
It was four-thirty when the phone rang in the office of the Beagle Detective Agency. Beagle scooped it up.
“Beagle Detective Agency, Otis Beagle talking.”
“This is Iowa Lee,” a melodious voice said. “Has Mr. Peel returned to the office?”
“Not yet, Beautiful. But I expect him to call in at any minute.”
“I’m afraid he won’t. You see, he came out to the picnic early this afternoon and something, well, something happened that made me suspicious.”
“Picnic?” exclaimed Beagle. “What’s he doing at a picnic?”
“It’s the Lonely Hearts Club picnic. He came out in a taxi. It’s rather involved. You see, we were playing baseball and Mr. Peel went into the woods to find the ball. The two umpires went with him, and well, they haven’t returned. The taxicab driver said they went off in a green Ford.”
Alarm flooded Beagle. “Where are you calling from?”
“A phone booth in Agoura. The... the picnic’s still going on, but I couldn’t get it out of my head that Mr. Peel, had been, well, forcibly taken away.”
“Who were these umpires? Club members?”
“No, of course not. They came in the green Ford. The cabdriver said they’d followed Mr. Peel all the way out from Hollywood.”
“What was Peel doing out at your picnic? He had orders to... to do something else.”
“I guess that’s what he was doing, following Mr. Smallwood. At least that’s what the taxicab driver told me.”
“How long are you going to stay at that picnic?” cried Beagle.
“Why, I’ve already left it. I’m on my way back to town.”
“Come to my office, Iowa.”
She hesitated. “Very well. I’ll be there in a half hour.”
Beagle hung up and stared at the phone. Peel was an amazingly self-sufficient man. He could usually take pretty good care of himself. But Beagle had felt uneasy ever since he had gone into the matter of the lonely hearts. Only financial desperation had made him do it.