Black-Eyed Stranger (16 page)

“Thanks,” snarled Sam, “for understanding.” He thought, wants to confer. Glad to get me out of the room. Going to debate a while.

He closed the door of this bathroom. The window was not transparent. No way he could be seen, as he wrote on a page out of his notebook, wrote it down boldly. Exactly where she was and how to get there. Housekeeping in this air castle was perfect. Everything was spotless. It couldn't be long before one servant or another would be cleaning around in here. He put the piece of paper under a box of medicine in the cabinet. He thought if he made it to her, he could warn her to destroy this note. He thought, if I don't make it, and I'm dead, they'll find this pretty soon. Or she'll be into the coffee can.

He thought, I'm a great one to leave little notes around. Got a lot of faith in the written word. Naturally.

He began to think again of the fly in the soup. All the little fly could do was beat his wings. Some flies got out, though. Some of them made it. If they hadn't got their wings too sticky. He thought, I never saw a fly who wouldn't try.

Chapter 15

HE unlocked the door and came out. There had been some kind of flurry. He could sense the trailing eddies in the air out here, the settling of the dust. The stalky little operative, Reilly, was gone.

He said, irritably, “Well? Do I leave? Or you want to burn the soles of my feet or something?”

“You may go,” Dulain said.

“You been on the phone, boy?” Sam wanted a few more minutes. He didn't feel ready. Besides, his demon was on him. He wanted to know why they let him go. “What's on your mind?” he asked.

“Charles?” All their faces tilted to look up and Martha Salisbury looked down. Then she saw Sam Lynch, and she came down the rest of the way and walked across the room to him. He had forgotten about her. If he'd thought to wonder where she was, he'd have guessed they kept her drugged someplace, some dim luxurious quiet place where Martha Salisbury could be safe in a dream.

But here she was, and her small feet came marching. She said, “Oh, Mr. Lynch, I am so glad you are here at last.” Her voice was all right. And he saw that her pretty doll face had fallen tight to the bone but she was not doped. Her eyes were all right.

He hadn't reckoned with her.

She said, “Do you know where Katherine can be?” She asked him, respectfully.

He mumbled, “Ma'am, I'm going to try …” He left it hanging. He was ashamed. He thought, I didn't give her enough respect. I should have respected her.

Salisbury was swiftly at her side. “Lynch thinks he can help, darling. He thinks there could have been a little hitch. Things don't always go by the strict hour, so he says …”

But the little doll lady wasn't having any. She said to Sam Lynch, “I've been thinking about it.” She spoke to him as if only he and she were grown up. She said, “People who would do such a thing as this, wouldn't honor a promise. Or I shouldn't think so.”

“It … it depends, ma'am. Some kinds of promises …” He was evading. He hadn't reckoned with her and he didn't want to. “There are different circumstances. It's hard to say. Can't be sure.”

“But isn't it true that the safest thing for them would be to kill her?”

“Ah, Martha.” Salisbury was dismayed.

“When I think about it, Charles,” she said, “that seems so plain. Maybe Mr. Lynch, who knows more than I, can show me I'm mistaken.”

Sam said, respectfully, “Yes, it's dangerous to them for her to stay alive. She may see too much. You've thought that out, ma'am. But it is also a pretty terrible danger the other way. Once you were sure she was never coming back, you'd move heaven and earth.” Salisbury's eyes glittered. But Sam had to go on. He couldn't leave it hanging. “Still, you'll do that either way.”

She said, “So I was thinking.” She threw her white head back. “Ought we to be sure she is never coming back? Is it time?” And she stood there, and he was to answer.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Sam couldn't help it. He touched her shoulder. He said, “Don't be sure, yet, ma'am. Don't hurt yourself with that. Try not—”

She wrenched away and picked up the mulberry scarf. “But this silk. It's not alive, Mr. Lynch. I wish I could tell you how I know. It just isn't Kay. She's flesh and life. This silk is dead.”

“Martha. Martha.”

“Yes, Charles. Yes, all right.”

If you took the words, they didn't mean anything. They sounded mad. But Sam knew what it was about the scarf, and his heart hurt for this little lady who had turned out to be as tough and marvelous as this. He said, almost stammering, “I think she's all right, ma'am.”

“You know more than we?” Oh, she put it right up to him.

“I don't suppose she's so happy,” Sam said as lightly as he could, “but I don't think she's hurt at all. I think she'll be home.”

She said, “Thank you.” Her eyes didn't leave his face.

“Ah, darling, sit down.”

“Yes, Charles.
Will it be long?
” She was asking
Sam.
He was supposed to
answer. He must have told her.

“I don't know,” Sam said in a panic. “I couldn't say. I really don't know.”

He knew without looking what Dulain wore on his face, the smirk, the just-as-I-thought-all-along expression, the big ha-ha. Dulain said, “You're a liar.”

Sam said, “Uh-huh.” He was very tired. He thought, well, this tore it. “You haven't got a lot of tact, Dulain. But you're right, as usual. I am a liar.” He put his hands in his hair.

Chapter 16

THE Salisburys were silent.

“You are Ambielli's man,” Alan said.

“No.”

“You're a liar. ‘Boss,' you called him.”

“Slip of the tongue. Courtesy,” said Sam bitterly. “That's a word, boy. Arrest me. Call a flock of cops. Call for the wagon. Oblige me. Please.”

But now Alan drew back. “Why?”

“Why not, for God's sake? I'm a phony. I'm a crook. I'm a kidnaper.”

“Then Ambielli's got her and you—”

“No. That's not what I said.”

“You're a liar.”

Sam said, “Go up to Shawpen Lake. I've got a shack up there. That's where she is.”

Salisbury jumped up but his hand was in his wife's hand holding tight.

“Who's got her there?” Dulain demanded.

“I have.”

Martha sat still but the men made a hostile phalanx. Alan said, “Who's on guard?”

“Nobody.”

“You're a liar”. Alan snarled. “That's impossible. Wait a minute.”

Sam looked down at his shoes. He knew their voices were crossing and clashing over his head but he stopped hearing the words. He thought, so I get to be a hero. I trip myself to glory. He had to grin.

Martha was still sitting there holding that scarf. But Salisbury was shaking him and shouting, “Take me there. Take me there. Right now.”

Sam roused. “You can find it,” he said almost indifferently.

“No, no, take me there. Now. Quick.”

“You want to live, don't you?”

“What?”

“Better not ride with me.”

“He'll take us there,” Alan cried.

Sam lifted a brow. “What makes you think so? I told you. You're a big boy. You go.”

“It's a trick!” Alan was furious.

Sam hoisted himself up. “It's
a what?
”

“You're a liar.”

“For Christ's sake!”

“You're working for Ambielli. This is only a trick.”

“Yeah? You think so?” Sam felt his eyes glazing.

“Why do you want us up in the country? What's that going to do for you?”

“Not a damn thing. Unless it gets me killed.”

“Who's going to kill you?”

“The boss,” Sam said.

“Then this
is
a double cross.”

“Not exactly.”

“Who got the money?”

“Ambielli.”

Alan said, “You make no sense.”

“How true,” said Sam. “How right you are. You're often right, Dulain. Better get going, somebody.” He leaned back.

“And where will you be?”

“In jail, I hope. Please?”

“Salisbury money. False arrest.”

“Drop it, Alan,” Salisbury said. “Hurry.”

“But wait a minute, sir. Don't fall for this. He must have something rigged.”

“That would be my type?” said Sam.

“Katherine,” the father cried. “I'm going after Katherine.”

“Wait.”

Sam said, “Yeah. Wait. Don't forget to put me away. Call the cops, one of you.”

“Time enough,” said Dulain, looking sly, “when there is more evidence than your word.”

“The time is now,” Sam said in alarm. “I confessed, didn't I? You got witnesses.”

Dulain frowned. “You admit you took her?”

“I
admit.
” Sam said. “I
told
you.” He looked up. He felt like laughing. He said, “Wolf. Wolf.” It sounded like woof, woof, like an imitation of barking.

Alan lifted his chin and a new expression formed on his sharp face. Pity? Sam watched, warily. Alan came nearer, looking down.
Looking down.
He put his hand on Sam's arm, in pity. He said, “Tell me about it, Sam. I'd like to understand. What was in your heart?”

Sam sat still and watched the hand, the clean square cut fingernails. His lips twisted. “Guess.”

“You were married once, weren't you, Sam? Did you ever have a child? Does Kay remind you …? Is there some frustrated …?”

Sam pulled his sleeve out from under the hand. His black eyes were blazing. He said, “Guess again. Just keep guessing. If you never listen, you'll never know. You'll always have to guess.”

Alan said slyly, “Why should you be angry? Because you couldn't fool me?”

Sam said, “You're not a hard man to fool, Dulain, with your system. Whatever isn't clear to you, why, that's crazy.” He got up. “Hey, you, Warner? You going to turn me in?”

Warner looked at Dulain who shook his head. “Later,” Warner said.

“Might as well be going,” Sam mumbled. “Might as well mosey along. Don't know what I'm waiting for.”

“This place. This lake.” Salisbury understood nothing, nor did he necessarily believe in her presence at this place. There was no order to his thinking. He was going to ride on the mere hint, the mere chance. “How do you get to Shawpen Lake?”

“Highway 6,” Sam said. “Look at the map.”

Dulain said, haughtily, “We'll get there.”

“I'm sure. Well, so long.” Sam moved his head as if to bid them all good-by but he was blind. “And if Idon't see you all again,” he murmured, “it's been marvelous.”

“You'll see us,” Alan said. He heard the lady say, “Good-by.”

The door shut. Salisbury cried, “Alan, where's your car?” He was locked in the present tense. He was going only one way, after Katherine.

Alan snapped, “Warner, get going. Catch Reilly if you can. Follow Lynch.”

“I can try,” said Warner, “if Reilly ain't gone already.”

“Call back here.”

“Okay.”

“Where Lynch goes,
I
think that's where she'll be.” Salisbury was caught for a moment by this idea. He hesitated. He swung back to the urgency of his simple present purpose. He began to grope in the closet. “I'm going to that lake.”

“I, too,” said Alan. “Naturally. We'll call back, too. But if it's a trick. It's almost got to be a trick.”

Martha cried, “Charles!” and she was pointing. “What's that?” Salisbury looked down to see what it was that had fallen to the floor.

It was a scarf.

Martha came quickly and snatched it up. All their eyes traveled back to where the other scarf still lay on the sofa.

“Another scarf?” Alan looked blank. “Whose scarf is this one?

Martha had her face in this one, the one from the closet. “
This
one is hers.” Salisbury knew. (This one would carry her scent. It would smell of her living flesh.) “What … what does it mean?”

Alan's face was white with anger. “Lynch knew that other scarf was a phony. He let that slip! There's been some monkey business, and he knows what. He knows too damn much he doesn't tell. I don't believe a word out of him. He couldn't say a straightforward—”

Martha said to her husband, “Hurry.”

He spoke to her as if she were grown up. “You'll take any message?”

“Yes. I'll be here.”

“Call the Police Department.”

“Yes, Charles.”

“Tell them everything.”

“Yes, Charles.”

“Don't tie up this line,” Alan said.

“No, Alan.”

“We'll call you.”

“Yes, call me.”

Salisbury touched her arm. “You believe Lynch?”

“I do believe she is living,” Martha said.

In the tangled city the traffic moved—trucks, taxis, busses, some private cars.

Sam stepped out of the stone doorway of the apartment house. It was half a block to his car. Well, he would get there or he wouldn't. He didn't even look, right or left. One foot fell after another and each fall surprised and even shocked him. He got into his car. It jumped under his shocked hands and feet.

Warner raced down the back way, stepped out into the side street, hurried to Reilly in the car, caught the door as the car jumped from the curb.

Still a third car, which was double parked to observe both exits, now jumped, too.

Traffic swarmed.

Sam thought, now? No. Now? No. Now? He knew there was a car after him. He went west and north and west again.

Warner said, “Take it easy.”

Reilly said, “Don't kid yourself. It ain't easy.” They were absorbed, and did not look behind.