April Evil (4 page)

The doctor was a recluse. Few people had been inside the great stone house. They told conflicting stories of what they saw. Arnold Addams was a completely loyal and close-mouthed man. The rumors of the amount of money in the big safe were fantastic. Ben Piersall was inclined to believe that Bud Hedges came closest to an accurate guess. Hedges had looked up all the old real estate transfers. He had deducted probable taxes, the cost of the big house, probable-living expenses. Hedges estimated that the old man must have somewhere between one million three and one million five squirreled away in the big safe, all in cash. Hedges had investigated carefully to be certain Tomlin had not re-invested the money.

Tomlin was coldly polite to the people he came in contact with. The car Addams drove was a black pre-war Packard, polished to a high luster. It was the same car he had used in the last few years before his retirement from the practice of general medicine. From time to time cases of books and phonograph records would arrive at the railway express station, and Arnold Addams would drive down and pick them up.

No, Ben thought, there was nothing there on which to base the sort of proceeding Lennie contemplated. A man could drive an aged car if he wished. He could save his money in cash if he so desired. Tomlin was a tall, straight, frail old man, full of years and dignity. Wes Parks and his wife were many years dead. It had been generally conceded in town that Dil and Lennie Parks would inherit the cash. Too bad, but Dil would get his hands on it.

Now a new factor had been added. He could understand Lennie’s distress, and her greed—but not approve of it.

Dil had turned into a big-bellied, hard-drinking loudmouth. It was not a role that suited him with precision. There was something plaintive and uneasy in his eyes, even as he told his bawdiest stories. He owned and operated a marginal automobile agency. He was difficult to work for. People did not stay with him long. Dil and Lennie were childless.

Ben Piersall drove home to Huntington Drive. He was much
later than usual after golf, and suspected he should have phoned. Toby’s bike was in the garage, and, as he drove in, he saw Sue, his just-turned-fourteen daughter through the living room picture window adjusting the dials of the television set. He went through the garage into the kitchen. Joan was standing frowning at the refrigerator.

She turned and smiled at him and they kissed. She was a tall pretty woman with Indian black hair, tan face, and eyes of a hot bright startling blue. She was broad-shouldered and high-waisted and long-legged and she moved in a pliant and, to Ben, continually provocative way.

“Playing in the dark? Luminous golf ball? Or a hard round on the nineteenth hole?”

“I missed the guys. Too late. Played nine alone.” He took a deep breath. “Not quite alone. Caught up with Lennie on the fourth and got trapped into finishing out with her.”

It was the best way, he decided, even though the blue eyes did frost over. “Trapped, as you so neatly put it. There is poisoned bait in that cute little trap.”

“I’m immune, honey.”

“I hope you are. I really do.”

“She had some business to talk over. I’ll tell you after the kids are in bed. A stinking deal. She wants to commit Paul Tomlin.”

Joan’s eyes narrowed. “Very, very typical. So she came running right to you. Good old Ben. Pal of her cradle days.”

“I said no.”

“Of course. Darling, this misbegotten failure of a refrigerator has stopped defrosting again. I feel like kicking it. Please call them in the morning and jump on them. They’ll listen to you quicker. This is not one of the best days. Sue is being plaintive about going to the movies on a school night.”

“No.”

“I told her that too. And Toby had an experience.”

Toby came into the kitchen then. “Hi, Dad. She’s right. An experience. Brother!”

“He didn’t know the Mather house next door had been
rented. Neither did I. I guess they took it today. When he got home from school he …”

“Gee, Mom, let me tell it. I took the spinning rod and went over on the dock. I just had time to hit the tide change. I figured on maybe a red in that hole out there. I just got to make one cast and this real mean guy comes running down out of the house. He says to me, just like this, ‘Get the God damn hell off this property.’ He looked like some kind of gangster, honest. He looked like he was going to hit me. I tried to say I didn’t know it had been rented, and he just said it again. So … I came home. There’s a woman there too. I saw her through the window. She was looking out. You know who she kind of looks like? That Dagmar on the television.”

“We’ll see about this,” Ben said.

He went to the phone and got hold of Hedges at his home. “Bud? This is Ben Piersall. You’ve got an exclusive on that Mather house. I thought we had a gentleman’s agreement about what you’d put in there. What kind of people have you got in there now?”

“Their name is Wheeler. I think they’re okay. That’s a tough property to rent when it gets to be …”

“I don’t care how tough it is. The man cussed out Toby. Toby went over to the dock there. He didn’t know it was rented. The man was profane and abusive.”

“I’m sorry as hell about that. I thought it would be all right because they were so insistent on complete privacy. I don’t think they’ll bother you at all. They’re Illinois people. Just down until May fifteenth. She’s quite a dish, boy.”

“Put the butter away, Bud. I’m a little annoyed.”

“You’ve got a right to be. I should have phoned Joan and told her. I had it on my mind but I forgot it. It’s my fault.”

Ben Piersall was mollified. They chatted about other matters. He hung up, and went back to the kitchen. “Hedges was trying to make that fast buck. The Wilkinsons paid a season rate and left last week. The odds were against it renting again. We and the kids just stay away from these Wheelers. That clear, Toby?”

“Gosh, I wouldn’t go over there again.”

Sue was firmly informed that there would be no school-night movie. She phoned her girl friend to say it was off. She tried to maintain an attitude of chilly indifference, haughty resignation, a princess condemned to dine with the palace serfs, but she forgot her role after a half-hour.

Ben mixed a drink before dinner. After dinner he read while Joan and Sue did the dishes and Toby did homework. The kids went to bed at nine-thirty with the usual token protests. When he and Joan were alone in the living room, he put his book aside and told her the details of the conversation with Lenora Parks.

“Could they do such a thing?”

“It’s unlikely—unless Doctor Tomlin has failed pretty badly in the last two months. I haven’t seen him since sometime in January.”

“How can she and Dil even think of doing a thing like that?”

“It’s more Lennie than Dil. She’s restless … and ruthless.”

“She’s a bad person, Benjamin.”

He thought that was not entirely accurate, but he had no stomach for arguing on Lennie’s side. It wasn’t badness. More it was a misdirected strength. He was glad that he had not married Lenora, as he had seriously considered doing at one time. He liked kids, for one thing. When Dil was younger he had been in the sort of jam that decisively proved his fertility. It was evident that Lennie was the barren one. In spite of her hungers there seemed to be a curious sterility about her. It would have been a sterile life for Ben without Joan in any event. Inconceivable without Joan, without the special warmth of this marriage.

After Joan had gone to bed he walked slowly through the house, feeling smug about his home and the warmth it enclosed. These were the good years. He turned out the lights, evicted Buckethead, the calico cat, checked the locks. In the darkness he could see the gleam of lights in the Mather house, shining through the leaves. He felt a recurrence of the anger, wondered if he had let Toby down by not charging over there and demanding apologies. He shrugged and went to bed.

He parked just beyond the range of the floodlights of the Sandwind Motel. The Ace had been waiting and he came out quickly, walking with his heavy, plunging stride, his big shadow long in the white lights. He looked into the gray Buick and grunted in affirmation. He put the suitcase in the back, dropped into the front seat beside Harry and banged the door shut. He heaved his big body into a more comfortable position, the front seat creaking under his weight.

Harry made a wide U turn and headed back along the key toward the causeway road.

“Beach boy,” Harry said. “Handstands for the girls.”

“So it’s like a vacation.”

“When did you get down?”

“Nearly a week. Last Tuesday. How about this heap?”

“Don’t sweat. It’s clean. Riverio owed me a favor. Registration and license are okay. In the name of John Wheeler, with a Chicago address that’ll check out, if nobody checks it too hard.”

“And the kid?”

“Tomorrow or Wednesday. He comes in by train.”

“How does he connect?”

“They’ve got a book at the Chamber of Commerce. A notebook like. For messages. In the morning you go down and put
the address in.… No, you put the phone number in. Ronnie will look for it there.”

“You got a date set up?”

“Not yet. We got to ease into this. No slips. This might be as big as Boston.”

“You kidding?”

“No. I’m not kidding. And one thing straight, Ace. I’m running it. All the way.”

“That was the way I heard it.”

“I’ve got a woman with me.”

Ace was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t like that a God damn bit.”

“I don’t care whether you like it or don’t like it. I needed the cover on the way down. She’s all right. She used to run around with Barney Shuseck.”

“Barney’s dead.”

“Before they caught up with him, they had her on ice for a week. She gave them nothing.”

“So he’s still dead.”

“That had nothing to do with her.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“With a woman around the kid is hard to handle.”

“I’ll handle Ronnie.”

“How did you tie up with her?”

“I hid out at Riverio’s place, at the lake. I was about to go nuts. He sent her up.”

“If this cracks right, where are you going?”

“I got to go out of the country. You know that much.”

“I know. Did you get an address?”

“A couple of them.”

“This what’s-her-name. She going?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Does she think she’s going?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the scoop on this thing, anyway? The little I got, it sounded crazy. I almost didn’t come. I’ll say whether I’m in
after you tell me the whole deal.”

“You’ll be in.”

“I don’t like working with the kid.”

“We need the kid.”

Ace stretched his big arms and yawned. “How did it feel to make the list?”

“Don’t ride me, damn it!”

“Harry Mullin, one of the ten most wanted criminals.”

“Ace, I’m telling you!”

“You are jumpy, boy. Ease off. Actually, how does it feel?”

“It feels like hell. They put those pictures too many places. Too many people got this hobby, checking those pictures. I took off twenty-five pounds. It helps some, but not enough. On the way down I felt like I ought to have my head in a bag. That’s how it feels. Every time anybody looks at you, you wonder if they’ve been checking those damn pictures. So I stay the hell in the house.”

“That nearly cooled me off too. It makes you too heavy. Then I thought what the hell. It’ll just make you more careful.”

“I’m careful.”

“You weren’t careful, Harry, when you killed that woman.”

“I was careful. I was just unlucky. I fired at the floor. The damn bank had a marble floor. It bounced up and clocked her right under the chin. A fat lady.”

“Real fat?”

“She was a hell of a big woman. I heard later she didn’t even have any bank business. She just went in to use the john. And she wasn’t the one yelling, the one I fired to shut up.”

“Is this the place? Say, this is pretty fancy.”

“It has to be. You stay in a crummy place, some cop looks you over. You stay in a place like this, they don’t bother you.”

He ran the Buick into the garage. They got out and Harry pulled the overhead door down. They went into the house through the garage, into the kitchen.

Sally Leon stood at the stove, stirring something in an aluminum pot. She smiled faintly at the two men as they came into the kitchen.

“Sally, this is the Ace.” They nodded at each other. “Big bastard, isn’t he?”

The Ace seemed to fill the kitchen. He was well over six feet, tall and he was broad all the way down, with hardly any suggestion of a waist. He was in his early forties. The top of his head was shiny-bald, sun-reddened, surrounded by kinky ginger hair. His brows and nose and lips were thickened by early years in the ring. His jacket was expensive and well cut. His eyes were small and blue and bright. He looked as though he could have been an ex-pro-football linesman turned salesman.

“Whatever you got there, it smells good,” Ace said.

“It’s a beef stew like.”

Harry Mullin made two drinks, gave one to Ace and they carried them into the living room.

“Nice deal. Pretty here. With the lights on those bushes. Where do I bunk?”

“There’s two down that hall. Take either one.”

“I’ll get the bag later. If I decide to come in on this.”

“You want the story now. Okay. The month before I crashed out, I got to know one of the new fish who’d just come in. He figured with me being in there four years already and being a lifer, I’d know all the scores. He was in on armed robbery, a supermarket in Evanston. He’d come in from the West Coast and it was the first thing he tried and he’d hooked up with the wrong guy so it went sour. He was all set on what he’d do when he got out, and he knew I couldn’t ever be paroled so he thought it was safe to talk it over with me.

“It seems when he was out on the coast he had this good friend named Joe Preston. Preston was always getting into small time trouble. But Preston talks about some rich doctor in this town here, here in Flamingo, that he’s related to. Preston and his wife leave. This fish, his name is Irv Dingle, gets a letter from Preston. Preston brags about the rich doctor relative. He says he and his wife have moved in with the old boy. He says the doctor doesn’t believe in banks and he’s made a killing in land and has maybe a million bucks in cash in the safe in his house.”