‘Yes.’
‘Something, huh?. Any way, from what Simms said, I gather the girls live away from the motel. His girl was checked in at the local hotel. In town. Allegedly, she suddenly left the job at the motel. But she never checked out of the hotel.’
‘Give me the setup,’ I said.
‘About fifteen cabins at the motel. Run by a man named Mike Barter. He’s married, never met his wife. The local law is wise to the setup, I’m sure. In any case, they’ve been in on the coverup. You might look up a j.p. named Oliver Handy. And watch out for a state trooper whose name is Fred. He’s the son of a bitch who has my gun. And O’Hare’s, too.’
‘Burry? How’d he get into this?’
‘He had a .32 in the glove compartment of his car.’
‘Oh.’
‘Did you bring—’
‘I brought you the one I usually keep at home. It’s a Smith and Wesson. I gave it to Sandy, and I taught her how to use it. Now she’s defenseless, you see?’ I grinned. Phil grinned back.
‘Where is it?’
‘In the car. I’ll give it to you when we get outside.’ I paused. ‘What else should I know?’
‘Barter’s got a handyman named Hezekiah. Carlisle apparently does work around the place, too, but Hez is the regular. He’s a bruiser. Don’t get into a bear hug with him.’
‘I won’t. What’s Ann wearing?’
‘Her slip and brassiere, last time I saw her.’
‘Let’s assume she’s dressed now.’
‘I can only tell you what she was wearing when we left the city yesterday morning.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘A white cotton dress, one of these sun things with bare shoulders. She was carrying a straw bag, and she was wearing straw pumps. Lucite heels.’
‘Hat?’
‘No. Never wears one.’
‘What about her luggage?’
‘Just two plain brown leather bags.’
‘Anything else I should know?’
‘A hooker named Blanche. Flaming redhead, kid of seventeen. If you see her, you can’t miss her. She’s got it blazed in neon across her chest. She was told to stall me last night when Ann disappeared. She also seems to know a hell of a lot more about all this than she’s telling. She’s the one who told me Ann is safe. Oh.’
‘What?’
‘The j.p. — this Handy character — he also hinted that Ann would be all right if I just minded my own business.’
‘What are they trying to cover, Phil?’
‘I don’t know. I imagine the blood has something to do with it, though. Murder is something to cover.’
‘Who?’
‘You’ve got me.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll take a look. Where can I reach you?’
‘I’ll check in at the hotel. You can call me there. Where are you going now?’
‘Out to the motel.’
‘All right, I’ll wait for your call.’
‘It may not be until late tonight. I’d rather you didn’t waste the time.’
‘What do you want me to do, Tony? Phil asked.
‘This hooker. The one who’s missing, too.’
‘Lois is her name.’
‘All right. Find out all you can about her. There may be a tie-in with Ann.’
‘Okay, I’ll talk to her boyfriend again.’
‘I’ll try to ring you around midnight or so. If we run into each other anywhere in town, you don’t know me. I only hope we’re not being watched now.’
‘I don’t think so, Tony.’
‘All right, come on. I’ll give you that .38.’ I saw the look on Phil’s face. ‘You can eat your dinner after I give you the gun.’
We went out of the restaurant and over to the black sedan. Because we didn’t want to attract attention, the transfer of the gun took place inside the car. Phil tucked it into his waistband.
‘I feel better already,’ he said.
‘Don’t go using it unless you have to,’ I said.
‘I haven’t had to use it since I’ve been a cop,’ he answered.
‘I have,’ I said. ‘I’ll call you later.’ We shook hands, and he got out of the car, and I started driving towards Sullivan’s Point. It was just getting dark when I got there. I parked the car behind a Cadillac with a tag reading SB-1412. I walked up to the motel office and knocked. There was no answer. I knocked again.
‘Hello?’ I called.
My voice echoed out over the lake. I sighed and was turning back toward the car when I saw the woman.
She came off the dock at the edge of the lake. She had a towel in her hands, and she was patting her face dry. The rest of her was wringing wet. She wore a bikini of some stuff that looked like silver lame. She was tall and slender, with the remarkable combination of good legs and a magnificent bust. She wore a bathing cap, and the cap was white and decorated with plastic daisies. She looked like a Follies girl making an entrance, except for the fact that she was unaware of any audience. I leaned against the fender of my car and watched her. She pulled off the cap, and blond hair tumbled free onto her shoulders. She shook her head, the way a big dog does when she’s coming out of the water. I watched. She looked up then and saw me.
‘Hello,’ I said. I grinned.
Her eyes were green, and the lashes were wet, and even if she hadn’t just come from the water, they’d have been frigid. ‘Hello,’ she answered.
‘How was the water?’
‘Fine,’ she answered.
‘It seems to have done you a lot of good.’
‘How would you know?’ she asked. ‘You didn’t see the ‘Before’ picture.’
‘No, but the ‘After’ is most convincing.’
‘Thanks. Are you finished?’
‘I want a cabin,’ I said. ‘No one seems to be in the office.’
‘I’ll take you up,’ she said.
‘Do you know the owner?’
‘I am the owner,’ she answered.
‘Oh?’
‘Stephanie Barter,’ she said with a small nod. ‘Come on.’ We walked up past the Caddy with the SB plate. It did not take a super sleuth to figure who owned the Caddy. There were several other things I wanted to ascertain though, and it would have been easier to discuss them with Mike Barter, rather than his wife.
We went into the office. Stephanie Barter kept dripping water onto the floor. She was a pretty thing to watch. I’d never seen her swim but I was willing to bet she was good. She had a clean young body, a body she’d taken good care of. She was probably somewhere in her late thirties, but the body was much younger. The hair had an artificial look to it, but the bleach job was professional. Her nails were well manicured. Stephanie Barter, whatever else she did, spent a lot of time in the beauty salon.
‘What exactly did you have in mind?’ she asked.
‘Is there a choice?’ I said.
‘Not really,’ she answered. ‘Did anyone recommend you? Or did you just happen by?’
‘I was recommended,’ I said.
‘By whom?’
I dug into my memory. ‘A fellow named Joe Carlisle. Know him?’
‘Yes,’ Stephanie said. She was drying herself, but her green eyes never left my face. ‘Yes, I know him. He told you to stop here?’
‘Yes.’
‘Um-huh. What’s your name?’
‘Tony,’ I said.
‘Tony what?’
‘Mitchell.’
‘How long do you know Joe?’
‘Not a hell of a long time.’
‘I don’t like profanity,’ Stephanie said.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, grinning.
‘How long exactly do you know Joe?’
‘I met him in a bar,’ I said.
‘And?’
‘I told him I was looking for a good place to’ — I held the pause long enough to make it significant — ‘sleep.’