‘Satisfied?’ Barter asked.
‘Not yet,’ I said. ‘Get over on the bed, both of you. Hurry up. Face down, hands up on the pillows.’
‘You’re not gonna get away with this, feller,’ Barter said. ‘I don’t know who or what you think you are, but we’ve got cops in this state, too, you know.’
‘On the bed,’ I said.
Barter climbed up onto the bed, and then Hez climbed up beside him. They made a nice couple. Together, they rolled over onto their stomachs and put their hands up onto the pillows.
‘Don’t get off the bed,’ I said. ‘I’ll shoot whoever tries it first.’
‘Tough bastard,’ Barter muttered.
I went over to the wall separating 11 from my cabin. I covered every inch of the baseboard and found no sign of blood at all. Then I came to the closet. The closet was toward the front of the cabin, and it suddenly occurred to me that the blood seeping through the wall had been near the front of my cabin, too.
I didn’t want to open that closet door.
I opened it.
There was a lot of blood on the floor. The floor sloped toward the wall gently, so that it took the blood a long time to run toward the wall and then to seep through the crack in the wallboards into my cabin. A long time — so that whatever had made that blood puddle could have been taken away long before any blood had shown in the adjoining cabin.
‘Come here Barter,’ I said.
Barter scrambled off the bed and waddled over to where I was standing just outside the open closet door. He looked in at the blood. He didn’t say anything.
‘How about it?’
‘What is it?’ he said.
‘Blood.’
‘I don’t know anything about it,’ he said. ‘I rented this cabin about six o’clock last night. Fellow from Vermont. What he done here, I don’t know nothing about.’
‘What was the fellow’s name?’
‘Don’t remember. It’s in the book.’
‘Now tell me what happened to the girl I brought here?’
‘You didn’t bring no girl here,’ Barter said.
‘That’s your story, huh?’
‘That’s the truth,’ Barter said emphatically.
I kept myself calm. I kept myself very calm, considering. ‘Barter,’ I said, ‘you’re lying. I don’t know why, but you’re lying. There was a girl with me, and I have a witness who saw us check in together.’
‘Who’s your witness?’ Barter said.
‘A girl named Blanche.’
‘Blanche?’ Barter said. ‘I don’t know nobody named Blanche.’
‘She rented cabin number three from you. She was in there all night. She saw us check in.’
‘You got girls on the brain, ain’t you?’ Barter said. ‘Ain’t nobody in number three but a guy who checked in after supper.’
‘Somebody took the girl, and her luggage, and her clothes out of the cabin while—’
‘Which girl you talking about now?’
‘I’m talking about the girl I brought here, damnit!’
‘I see,’ Barter said, smiling at Hez who had craned his neck around from the bed. ‘And what cabin was she supposed to have checked into!’
‘Number thirteen.’
‘Why don’t we just take a little stroll up to thirteen right now?’ Barter said. ‘Course, that’s if you’re finished with your detective work in here.’
‘I’m finished,’ I said. ‘I want to give thirteen a closer look, anyway.’
‘All right if Hez gets up off the bed?’ Barter asked, smiling. This was all very comical to him. This was all simply side-splitting to him.
‘Come on, Hez,’ I said, and I waved the .38 at him.
We went out of the cabin and then over to 13. The motel was alive with light now, amber spilling from 11, 12 and 13, all in a row like nuns carrying votive candles. The door to 13 was closed. Barter climbed the steps and knocked.
‘There’s no one in there,’ I said. ‘Just open—’ and just then the door opened.
A tall thin man stood in the doorframe.
His chest and his feet were bare. He was wearing the trousers to a brown worsted suit. He was as wiry as a Con Edison cable, and a patch of black hair clung to his breast bone, and two halos of the same hair ringed the nipples of his pectorals. His eyes were blue, and his hair was a mussed brown, and he looked at us in mild surprise and said, ‘Yes?’
‘Sorry to trouble you, sir,’ Barter said. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Why, yes,’ the man said. He looked at my .38. ‘Say, what is this?’ he asked.
‘How long have you been in this cabin?’ I asked.
‘Who the hell are you?’
‘My name’s Phil Colby,’ I said. ‘How long have you been in this cabin?’
The man nodded, as if the name had meant something to him. ‘I checked in at about eight,’ he said. ‘Why?’
‘You checked in shit!’ I said. ‘Move aside!’
The man moved into the doorframe, blocking my path. ‘Just hold it a minute! sonny,’ he said. ‘My wife happens to be in bed.’
‘Your what!’
‘My wife. What the hell’s so strange about that? Listen, are you nuts or something?’
‘Get out of my way,’ I said. ‘I want to see your wife!’
‘Listen, what kind of a place is this?’ the man said to Barter. ‘For Pete’s sake, I never—’
I shoved him aside and moved into the cabin. Two green plaid suitcases rested on the floor near the dresser. There was a woman in the bed, and she sat erect when I barged into the room, pulling the sheet to her throat. She had long blonde hair and green eyes, and the eyes opened wide, and I thought she would scream, but she only opened her mouth and stared at me. She wore no makeup, and her face looked as if she might have been sleeping, except for the fact that her eyes weren’t tired.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked.
‘Who wants to know?’ she answered.
I turned to her husband who had come into the cabin after me. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Joe,’ he said.
‘Joe what?’
‘Joe Carlisle. This is my wife.’
‘What’s her name?’
Carlisle paused, and then he turned to the blonde. The blonde gave a slight smile.
‘Stephanie,’ she said. ‘Stephanie Carlisle.’
‘How long have you been in this cabin, Stephanie?’
‘Since about eight o’clock. Why?’
I nodded, turned away from the bed, and went to the closet. I opened the door and looked inside. The closet was full of clothes. A woman’s coat, two dresses, a nightgown, some skirts, and some blouses.
‘Where are your clothes, Joe?’ I asked.
‘I travel light,’ he said.
‘Let’s see your identification.’
‘What for?’
‘Let me see it!’
‘I haven’t got any.’
‘You drove here, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but...’
‘Let me see your driver’s license.’
Carlisle shrugged. ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ he said. He went to the dresser and took his wallet from where it lay alongside a watch and a key case. He opened the wallet and handed me his license.
‘You a cop?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
The name on the license was Joseph Carlisle. The address was in Davistown. I handed the license back to him, and then I went to the dresser. I opened the top drawer. It was full of Stephanie’s lingerie. The other two drawers were empty.
‘Those bags open, Joe?’ I said.
‘I guess so. Why do...’
I walked to the suitcases and unsnapped the first one. It was empty. The second one was empty too. I closed the bags and walked into the bathroom. A comb rested on the sink. I opened the medicine cabinet. It was empty. I left the bathroom and went into the big room again. Carlisle’s shirt, tie, and jacket were thrown over the wooden chair. His shoes were on the floor under the chair, and his socks were balled inside the shoes. Stephanie’s dress and underwear were heaped on the seat of the chair. She caught my eye.