Carroll suppressed a scream and dashed into the kitchen.
Fearing the worst, Lepski moaned to himself. Then Carroll called, ‘Your dinner is ruined! It’s all your fault! You talk too much!’
Heavy footed, Lepski walked into the smoke-laden kitchen and stared at the burned mess in the pan.
‘No chicken in mushroom and cream sauce?’
‘After all the trouble I have taken!’ Carroll began opening a can of beans. ‘When will you learn to stop talking?’
‘Is that what we are going to eat?’ Lepski shouted, eyeing the can of beans. ‘How about that cold beef in the refrigerator? How about that?’
‘That’s for Sunday.’
‘Who the hell cares about Sunday? I’m starving!’
‘Don’t shout at me, Lepski.’ But she took the beef from the refrigerator. ‘Anyway, Lepski, you eat too much.’
‘Yeah. I’ve heard that before. So I eat too much. Who the hell cares?’
‘Remember the three clues I’ve given you,’ Carroll said as she began to cut up the meat. ‘I know they will solve the case.’
‘Sure... sure. Let’s eat for God’s sake!’
The time was 23.00.
Ken sat in a lounging chair, more than drunk. He had returned home after work, and was in such a state of panic, he couldn’t bring himself to cook a dinner. Any moment, he kept telling himself, there would be a ring at the bell, and Lepski would be there to quiz him about the missing button. He had taken a bottle of Scotch from the liquor cabinet, poured himself a big drink and had sat down to wait.
He would have to tell Lepski the whole sordid story. He was sure the story would leak. Then there was Boone. He was sure Boone would post the blackmailing letters. It was all very well for Karen to say she could handle her father, but he was sure Sternwood would get rid of him. Then there was Betty!
He took another drink.
His life had come to a standstill. It was in ruins!
Then he heard the doorbell ring.
Lepski!
He got unsteadily to his feet. The end of his road, he told himself.
He walked from the living room, into the lobby, and bracing himself, he opened the front door.
Karen said, ‘Let me in quick. No one has seen me,’ and she pushed by him as he hastily shut the front door.
He stared at her.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Man! Have you been drinking!’ Karen said, and hip-swished into the living room.
She was wearing a tight-fitting, emerald green frock. Her breasts pointed at him as he stood in the doorway, bewildered and trying to focus.
‘What is it? Why are you here?’
‘Look.’ She held out her hand. In her palm was a golf ball button.
Ken peered.
‘That’s what you want, isn’t it?’ she said, smiling at him. ‘I told you I would fix it.’
Ken came into the room. The sight of the button, lying on her palm, slightly sobered him.
‘Where did it come from?’
She laughed.
‘No problem. I went to Levine’s shop. They were busy. I cut the button off one of his jackets, then I walked out. They didn’t even notice me. No problem. They’ll think the button fell off. Pleased?’
Ken reached for the button. He suddenly felt ten years younger.
Her fingers closed over the button as she continued to smile at him.
‘Where’s your bedroom, Ken? Let’s celebrate,’ and with a quick movement, she was out of her dress, standing, naked before him. ‘A button for a screw,’ she said. ‘Fair enough?’
Ken looked at her.
Just for a brief moment he reminded himself this was Betty’s home as well as his. The bed was Betty’s as well as his. The Scotch destroyed these reminders. He saw only this beautiful, sensually built body.
Catching hold of her, he guided her along the corridor to the bedroom.
Five
The sound of persistent ringing on his front door bell brought Ken abruptly awake. As he sat up, what felt like a hammer crashed inside his head. He groaned, clutching his head in his hands. He threw off the sheets as the ringing of the bell persisted, swung his feet onto the bedside mat, still holding his head, his eyes shut.
The bell continued to ring, driving hot wires through his head.
God! he thought, I must have been good and drunk last night! Who the hell is this? What’s the time?
He forced his eyes to open. Sunshine was streaming into the room. His eyes went to the bedside clock. 08.15!
As he staggered to his feet, his head expanded and contracted and again he released a groan.
Goddamn that bell!
He found he was naked. He reached for and put on his dressing gown.
‘What’s the excitement about?’ Karen asked from the bed.
He spun around and stared at her. She was sitting up, naked, and blinking in the sunshine.
A wave of horror ran through him. Last night came into focus. He now remembered she had given him the button and they had gone to bed together. He had been far too drunk to remember what happened, but he could guess.
What the hell was happening to him? To have taken this little bitch into Betty’s bed! The horror of doing such a thing sobered him.
‘Someone’s at the door,’ he said feverishly. ‘Get out of sight!’
‘Poor Kenny,’ Karen jeered as she slid out of bed. ‘Always in a panic.’
He went unsteadily down the corridor and jerked open the front door. Standing on the doorstep was Lepski, with Max Jacoby behind him.
Ken stared at them. The hammer inside his head increased its blows. He was suddenly wildly angry.
‘What the hell do you want?’ he shouted.
Lepski looked him over. Boy! he thought, has this creep had a night out!
‘Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Brandon,’ he said in his cold cop voice. ‘I want to talk more about those golf ball buttons.’
Ken fought down his fury. He had to be careful. In a milder voice, he said, ‘I was going to call you this morning. I’ve found the buttons. Look I’m late. I overslept. I have to get to work.’
Lepski squinted at him.
‘You found them?’
‘They were in my wife’s button box. I looked and found them.’
Lepski made a suggestive move forward.
‘Can I see them, Mr. Brandon?’
Ken stepped back, wondering where Karen was. He led the two detectives into the living room, went to the button box, then remembered he had left the buttons in his jacket pocket.
‘Wait!’ he said, and went to the bedroom. Karen was out of sight. He guessed she would be in the bathroom. He snatched up his jacket which was lying on a chair as Lepski came to the doorway.
Lepski saw at once that two people had been occupying the big bed. Both pillows were indented.
Taking the buttons from the jacket pocket, Ken moved forward, crowding Lepski back.
‘Here they are. Now for God’s sake, stop bothering me!’
Lepski counted the buttons, then as Ken continued to move forward, he allowed himself to be directed back to the living room.
‘They seem to be all here, Mr. Brandon,’ Lepski said. ‘I’d like to see the jacket again.’
Ken dashed back to the bedroom, snatched the jacket from the closet, then returned to the living room. He thrust the jacket at Lepski.
Lepski counted the buttons, found none missing and was baffled.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I hope I don’t have to trouble you again.’
‘I don’t see why you should. You’ve caused me enough trouble!’ Ken snapped.
Lepski gave him his wolfish smile.
‘This is a murder investigation, Mr. Brandon. Odd things happen. Do you mind if I take the jacket and the duplicate buttons? I won’t keep them long.’
‘Take them! I don’t want to see the jacket ever again! Throw it away!’ Ken exclaimed, nearly beside himself.