I spun back around, hung my coat over the doorknob to block the keyhole, then walked quickly over and shut the front curtains. Roy sat down in one of the chairs.
“Good thinking,” he said, and rubbed his face. “God, I haven’t been able to think of a thing.”
“Who is he?” I said. It was all I could think of to say.
“What do you mean, ‘who is he?’ ” Roy said irritably. “Don’t look at his chest; concentrate on his face.”
It was hard. My eyes were drawn to the knife wound. He was up against the chimney, his knees folded under him, his body somehow suspended upright. The flesh on his face was sagging. It made him look weary beyond belief.
Then I pictured the same face, slouched forward in the back seat of a squad car. “Gam Gillis!”
“Right.”
“What’s he doing here? You don’t even have a safe.”
Roy gestured at the fireplace, below the body. “He’s hung on the damper. Look at his jacket. The collar must be hooked in back, and all his weight’s on it. When the collar button pops off, down he’ll go.” Cartley felt his pockets methodically, then drummed his fingers against one knee in frustration. “Nate, you got any cigarettes?”
“Sorry.” For the first time in my life, I wished I smoked. Roy was a wreck. “Want me to go for some?”
“No, I want you to take the kids somewhere while the police are here.”
“When are they coming?” He suddenly looked stricken.
“Jesus, Roy, you forgot to call?”
He wiped at his face, nodding. I picked up the phone and began dialing. “By the way, who do you think put Gillis here?”
“Who else? Petlovich.”
“Oh,” I said-but it was a big “oh”; Roy and I had gotten Gillis to turn state’s evidence on Petlovich two years ago, over a jewelry theft we’d been checking out for an insurance company. “You think Petlovich left Gillis as a message. In other words-” I stopped. I didn’t want any other words.
Just then the police answered. “Give me Lieutenant Pederson, please.” While I waited, I asked Roy, “You gonna tell your wife?”
“Hell, no! Her mother sprained her ankle at just the right time. Maybe this’ll be over before she’s back.”
“What about the kids-can you send them someplace?”
“Not a chance. My brother goes wilderness camping in California. The National Guard couldn’t get hold of him.” He felt his pockets again, automatically.
Just then the phone said, “Homicide. Pederson here.”
“Good to hear you. This is Nathan Phillips. How’s Minneapolis’s second finest?”
He answered levelly, “Phillips, any time you give me your full name and say it’s good to hear me, something’s Up. What’s up?”
I must have been as rattled as Roy. “There’s been a murder at Roy’s house. James Gillis, an ex-con; you can look up his connection with us. Oh, and bring a pack of cigarettes?”
Roy called out “Camels,” just as Pederson said, “Camels, right? Sure thing. Wait a minute, aren’t Jack’s kids Visiting Roy now?”
“Yeah. Can you hurry?”
“You bet.” He added too casually, “Did Roy do it?”
“I…” I turned to look at Roy. “Uh, Roy’s okay,” I said carefully. “No. No, of course not. You’ll see.” I hoped he would. “See you when you get here.” I hung up.
“Thanks, Nate. Now let’s go collect the kids.” He stared at the fireplace. So had I, on and off. We were both watching the collar-button hole stretching.
“Waiting for the other shoe to drop,” I said, “When the bough breaks-”
“Nathan, for Christ’s sake!” He glared, and I kicked myself.
“Sorry.” I edged out the door, and the kids jumped up. I said to them, “There wasn’t anything in there at all. He just wanted a quiet place to yell at me for not taking you guys anywhere. So we’re going sledding, right now.”
They scrambled for their coats. Los Angeles kids don’t get much chance for winter sports. Afterwards, I’d take them to my apartment for lunch, and call Roy from there.
Howie grinned and said, “You gonna crash sleds with opened my mouth and Cartley said, “Sure he will.”
Howie grinned and said, “you gonna crash sleds with me?”
“Nathan will love that.” It was the closest to a grin Cartley had managed all morning.
“Yeah,” I said, pulling on my stocking cap, “Nathan loves bruises.” We went.
Incidentally, Nathan got creamed.
The kids loved my apartment. I hadn’t put a thing away in weeks. All kinds of fragile, fascinating oddities were lying about within reach. I said. “Don’t break anything I haven’t already broken,” and went to the kitchen to heat soup and make sandwiches. While I was out there, I heard a giggling and the sound of a cat losing hold of the upholstery.
Before I could get to the door, Amy came into the kitchen, hugging Marlowe and holding him up by his armpits. Marlowe was hanging limp, purring frantically. He raised his pleading eyes to me. His claws, bless his heart, were in.
“Cats break, too, Amy.” I took Marlowe out of her arms, putting an arm under his back legs. He let his claws out just enough to show he was unhappy. “He looks like he wants to go out.” About as far out as Skylab. “Could you open the door?”
She ran over and reached up to the knob. When the door opened four inches Marlowe streaked out. Good enough. I could go down and let him all the way out later.
Paul peered around the kitchen door, then stepped in. “You done anything against the law yet, Nathan?”
“I’m not telling. What’s in your hand?” He opened his fist. Clutched in it was a glass cat.
I took it from him, held it up to the light and polished it, then put it back on his palm and played with the tail to make the cat dance. “That’s Marlowe’s girl friend. A friend gave her to me and said Marlowe needed a steady girl friend.”
Paul examined the statue. “How come she’s clear?”
“My friend said Marlowe’s girl friend should be hard to see, so his other girl friends wouldn’t get jealous.”
In came Howie, then, glancing quickly around the kitchen for signs of iniquity His eyes lit triumphantly on the scotch bottle next to all the dirty dishes.
“So that’s what you’ve been doing, Nathan.” He pointed to the bottle, then to me, like the world’s smallest prosecuting attorney. “You’ve been drinking alone!”
Amy scurried to my defense-sort of. She stood on tiptoe, hanging onto the counter-top and peering over it. “No, he hasn’t,” she said primly.
“How do you know, Blondie?” For a ten-year-old, Howie had a hell of a sneer. I quit being that tough at nine.
She smiled triumphantly. “Anyone can tell, smarty. There are two dirty glasses by the bottle, and one of them has lipstick on it.”
“Nathan’s got a gir-ul, Nathan’s got a gir-ul.” That was Paul. God, they were cute! Suddenly I wished Roy would hurry up.
I picked up Amy and swung her over the counter. You want to have your soup,” I growled, “or shall I cook you up for the rest of us?”
She screamed and laughed, and I put her down. “Soup’s ready,” I announced. They all ran to the table, which Howie, to my surprise, had set. That’s why he hadn’t been in the kitchen earlier, uncovering my sins.
While I was in the kitchen making more sandwiches, there was a pounding on the door, and a deep, grim voice said deadpan, “Police.”
Howie ran to the kitchen and looked at me wide-eyed; I said, “It’s no use. Let them in, and I’ll give myself up.” Howie opened the front door dubiously, and Lieutenant Pederson walked in, grinning, Roy a step behind him.