She glanced at me. "Matt, what-"
"A man can't help wondering," I said. "The lady is driving the car. This is customarily done from beneath the steering wheel, usually located on the left side of the vehicle here in the U.S. of A. She decides to unload, and the right side of her costume and anatomy takes the brunt of the landing. A man experienced in drawing large deductions from small clues, like me, can't help but wonder why."
Beverly grinned. "You're so cute when you're suspicious, darling. I thought you were looking at me awfully hard down there. Well, believe it or not, I went out the right-hand door simply because I didn't want to risk being caught between the car and the bank-we were drifting over to the left pretty fast-or that damn stone retaining wall, either. Okay?"
"Okay," I said. "I just have to go into my pro act now and then, to keep in practice."
"I mean," the girl beside me said grimly, "I tried to go out the right-hand door, but it wouldn't open. That damn little lock button was down, for Christ's sake, and if you start by pulling at the door handle the crazy button won't come up until you let go, and of course in my panic I got them in the wrong order. While I was fighting it, we bounced off the wail, and then I finally got it open and kicked myself out-and what the hell ever happened to nice sensible door locks that unlock when you pull the inside handle. We used to have them, didn't we?"
"They aren't safe. Some guy in Washington said so."
"Well, I'd like to put that guy in Washington into one of these super-locked death-traps heading straight for a two-hundred-foot drop and see how safe he feels!" She shook her head angrily. "Anyway, when I stopped bouncing and flopping and sliding around, I was still alive. I'd lost a lot of skin, and my clothes were in shreds, and everything was kind of vague and hazy, but my arms and legs seemed to work all right although I hurt like hell in a dozen places. I knew there was something I had to do, somebody I had to get away from…"
"Where was Willy with the jeep?"
"I could see his headlights coming around the point. I knew I had to get out of there before he found me and finished me off, and I just slid and rolled and crawled and scrambled down through the rocks and brush, and staggered to the shore and threw myself off the edge, hoping the water was deep enough so I wouldn't knock out my brains. I guess I had some vague idea of swimming to those rocks way offshore that I could barely see-it was just starting to get light-but when I got into the water I knew I didn't have the strength to make it, cold as it was. Besides, he'd see me swimming long before I got out there, and either shoot me from the shore or come after me. I spotted that hollow at the foot of the cliff and paddled back and crawled into it. It felt like hours, clinging there, with those damn waves splashing over me every few seconds. When I saw a stone hit the water from above, and knew somebody was up there-"
"How did you know it wasn't Willy?"
"I didn't," she said. "But it had been a long time. He should have given up and gone away; and I knew I couldn't last much longer. I had to take a chance. I knew I'd never make it out of there without help, so I yelled with all the strength I had left. And you came."
"Yeah," I said. "I came."
I touched the brake warily, so as not to arouse to anger the short-tempered hydraulic gremlins lurking in the power-assist machinery. I brought the sedan to a halt on the shoulder of the highway, and switched off the engine, and looked at her.
"What would you have done if I hadn't come?" I asked.
"What's the matter, why are we stopping?" Beverly glanced at me, puzzled. "What do you mean, Matt? I… I'd have died there, I suppose."
"Maybe, but I kind of doubt it," I said. "But what if you'd had somebody else to deal with? Say that tall young lady agent, my associate-but of course Willy ran her off the road north of San Diego to get her out of the way. But what about the Mexican police? Willy couldn't very well run interference for you there. What kind of an act would you have put on if they'd got there before me?"
Beverly was frowning in a bewildered way. "Matt, I don't understand! What-" Casually, her hands grasped the purse in her lap as she turned to face me.
"No, sweetheart," I said, and I showed her my left hand aiming the snub-nosed.38 across my body. "No, leave that purse strictly alone, please."
"Matt, darling-" Her voice expressed only surprise and hurt. Her fingers opened obediently and released the purse. Her eyes were big and bewildered. She was a very pretty thing and a good actress. It was a pity she hadn't made it in Hollywood, but perhaps she hadn't really tried. Perhaps she'd had other business in California that seemed more important. Maybe it even paid pretty well, although none of us get rich in this business-at least we're not supposed to. "I don't know what you're driving at!" she said with a nice little touch of anger.
"Sure you do," I said. "It was the blood, you know."
"What?"
"The blood," I said. "I mean, in case you're wondering what finally tipped me off, slow and stupid as I am. All that crusted gore on your arm and leg, very painful-looking and convincing. Except that a girl who jumps into the ocean immediately after she's been hurt, and then hangs onto a rock with the waves washing over her constantly-every few seconds, I believe you said-well, her blood just isn't going to stick to her long enough to coagulate like that, is it?"
Beverly licked her lips. "Matt, you're crazy! I don't know what you're thinking, but-" I said, "I'm thinking I've seen this show before, somewhere. Like back at that motel where you did your maiden-in-distress act for me the first time, with kind of the same costume and makeup, although not nearly so elaborate, just a few smudges and tears, and some convincingly disheveled hair."
"Darling, you can't really believe-"
"This time, of course, you knew you had to make it look very good to convince me. So you set it up right, you and Willy; but it was a damn cold ocean on a damn cold morning and you didn't know how long it would be before I, or somebody, came along to find you, down there under the cliff. You might have frozen to death by that time, waiting down in that hollow, constantly soaked to the skin. Besides, from down there, you couldn't see who was coming. So you hid in the rocks up above, I figure, where you could watch the highway, with your clothes dramatically ripped and your skin convincingly lacerated-"
"Mart, really!" she protested. "You can't believe I did that to myself!"
"With some help from Willy," I said. "Sure I believe it, and it was a swell job, and it must have hurt like hell. You're a pro, baby. I'll give you a testimonial any time you want it. Then you sent Willy on his way and waited. It must have been kind of chilly with the wind blowing through those spectacular rags you'd prepared for my benefit, but at least you weren't being continually soaked with ice water."
Beverly said firmly, "You're being utterly ridiculous!"
"When you saw me stop my car," I said, ignoring her, "and start down the slope towards you, then you slipped into the water and got into position to be rescued, not realizing that by that time the blood and stuff had caked too hard to wash away." I drew a long breath. "I let you talk just now to see if you had an explanation, but you didn't. Of course, you'd have had a hard time, anyway, explaining the gun in your purse…" I made a warning gesture with the.38. "Easy there, doll. This may not be a.44 Magnum, but it makes a nasty hole at short range."
Beverly moistened her lips once more. "Matt," she said, "Matt, I-" I said, "I saw you get it out of the wreck when you pretended to be so concerned.about your keys. I was watching you pretty closely by that time. It seemed to be quite a firearm. Do you mind if I have a look at it?"
She didn't speak. I reached over cautiously and took the carved leather purse. It was heavy now, heavier by several pounds than when I'd handed it to her down by the shore. I opened the flap and looked at the big Colt.45 automatic resting among all the feminine accessories, like a bull in a boudoir.