Blondes are Skin Deep (13 page)

W
E
WAITED
for nearly ten minutes in complete silence. I hated this kind of inactivity and kept thinking I heard a prowl car driving up outside. But I had to be sure we were alone.

We went into the office, fumbling through darkness. In Considine’s private room I checked the heavy draperies by feel and then snapped on the light. It was just as I had seen it last, except that the filing cases were gone, and there was no sign of the body.

“The cops took nearly everything,” I said.

Nelle nodded. “Johnny thought that he might have private files somewhere.”

I looked around. The safe was gone, too. I checked the desk drawers. Someone had cleaned them out. “Could be,” I said.

This room was hopeless. There was only one possibility that I could see, the room with the long table and the blackboard. I stepped that way and turned the knob. It gave easily enough but the door wouldn’t budge. I pushed a little harder. The door was loose in the frame, but it felt as if something heavy, something big and soggy, blocked it from opening.

Stepping back, I made a quick lunge and hit the door with my shoulder. It gave suddenly, opening about a foot as whatever was behind it yielded, then stopped with the same suddenness as it caught again.

A second lunge got me in. I found the switch and snapped on the light. Nelle started in behind me and I said, “Stay back.”

It was Les Peone. He was crumpled on the carpet where my push at the door had slid him. There was a hole, quite as neat as the one in Edna Loomis, in his forehead. His right hand was clamped around the handle of a small, deadly looking knife.

Turning off the light, I backed out fast. Nelle was waiting, wide-eyed, wondering. I said, “I think I found what I came for. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

• • •

It was run and run again. Every light from a car was a possible police patrol, every footstep on the pavement behind was a possible pursuer.

We found breathing space downtown, in the balcony of a second-rate, late movie house. It was less than half occupied at that ungodly hour and we sat in the top row near the projector. It felt good to stretch trembling legs and be able to quiet our breathing.

An usher brought someone up the steps and I felt Nelle beside me stiffen. “Look as if we came here to do some necking,” I said, and put my arm around her. She buried her face in my shoulder and I hid mine in her hair. The usher’s light stopped just below and to our left. When it was gone, neither of us moved for a while.

Finally I eased away. One of the reasons I had chosen this place was to have a chance to think, to sort out facts and try to put them together. With Nelle so close that was an impossibility.

She straightened up and managed a little laugh. “Was that just to fool the usher, Nick?”

“I wish the only person we had to fool was an usher,” I said.

Nelle settled back, her hands folded quietly in her lap. She seemed to understand. After a while, I said, “I can see only one answer, Nelle.”

She was silent and I tried to think again. “We’ve got to get back to town. To the Oxnan.”

Nelle came alert. “How?” I could feel the misery in her voice. I could understand it easily enough. It was no pleasure, no fun to be jerked from a fairly quiet existence to being wanted, cut off, pursued by the police of two cities.

“Let’s go,” I said shortly. I stood up and started out. She followed docilely. In the upstairs lobby, she said, “Go where?”

“Home,” I said. It made me want to laugh. Home—that was easy enough to say. But they would be watching the trains and busses, the airport and the highways. They wouldn’t miss having men posted at the bridge over the river.

“Give me a minute,” I said. “Go over by the restroom. If anyone comes, step in there.”

I watched her go, walking slowly, wearily, discouragement in her carriage. Then I went to the public phone booth, stepped in, and fed the slot.

The hotel answered and I asked for Chimp. He was in, his voice surprised when I identified myself. I said, “What’s Powers doing?”

“Looking for you.”

“I went to Edna Loomis',” I said.

“Yeh?” There was a long wait.

“Someone got to her.”

Chimp swore. “Johnny?”

I didn’t answer that. I said, “I’ve got to get out of here, get home fast, Chimp.”

“Powers has the town covered,” Chimp warned me. “I heard him talking to the local cops.”

“I expected that,” I said.

Chimp waited again and then said, “Where are you, Nick?”

“Considine’s office.”

Chimp grunted. “They cleaned that place out weeks ago.”

“It was a long shot,” I admitted. “I’ve got to get home,” I said again. I started talking more rapidly. “With what I’ve got maybe Hall can come through with a few answers that make sense.”

Chimp was evidently thinking it over. “I’m sticking my neck out,” he said. “But … okay, Nick, wait for me.”

“You’re a pal,” I said, and hung up. I left the booth, wiping sweat from my forehead. Nelle was still by the restroom door and I signalled to her. She came up quickly. “We roll,” I said.

Outside, we linked arms and tried to look as if we were just another couple strolling home after a late evening. After three blocks of it we caught a street car.

It took a little while, two transfers and a short walk down a silent street, but at last we were back at the used-car lot where we had parked the big coupe. It was still there, gleaming amid smaller, more tawdry jobs like a queen at a chowder party.

No one challenged us; there was no traffic at all. We got in, backed out of the lot, and started for the bridge. I said, “Lie down in the back seat, Nelle.”

She said, “I’d rather sit here by you, Nick.” Her voice had that quietness with which there was no arguing.

We were at a stop sign. Turning, I kissed her lightly on the lips, and there was a lot more to it than to that other, much longer kiss of so long ago.

I put the car into gear and we headed north.

• • •

It was so ridiculously easy that I began to get suspicious. No one acted as if the big coupe was anything but just another car, and Nelle and I just another couple riding in the early morning hours.

Crossing the bridge was the part I dreaded the most. Every taillight and every pair of headlights behind knotted my stomach. I was well across and through Vancouver before I could relax at all.

And then it felt good to be on the road, to be moving with the smooth, powerful motor pulling us along.

“It’s about time we squared things away,” I said.

“I know.”

Her voice was low and subdued. She moved a little so that she was closer to me, and then she was quiet again.

“Will we get out of this, Nick?”

“It looks that way,” I said, and tried to make my voice sound as if I meant it.

Nelle said, “Before—that time in your apartment …”

I stepped on the dimmer switch as a car approached. A truck ahead slowed me and I applied the brake lightly. When the approaching car had whooshed by, I blinked my lights at the truck, got an answering signal, and went smoothly around it.

“I
figured that out,” I said. “I don’t want things that way.”

Nelle stirred. “Do you want them at all?”

“I
have for too long,” I admitted. “Legally.”

She made an attempt to smile. I could see the quirk of her full mouth in the rear view mirror. “Why didn’t we admit it to each other a long time ago, Nick?”

“You were too damned young,” I said.

“If we ever get out of this …”

“We’ll get out of it,” I cut in, and put some force behind my words. Dropping my eyes to the instrument panel I saw that the speedometer needle was hanging on fifty. A safe speed, the legal limit. It was good enough to make time.

“But I still need your help,” I added.

“All right, Nick.” This time she sounded as if she meant it.

“Let’s start from scratch,” I said. “I’ll tell it the way I see it. You can correct me or fill in where I miss.”

She made an attempt at gaiety. “Shoot.”

Before I could say anything I caught the glow of headlights in the rear mirror. They came rapidly, then slowed, then blinked. I blinked back. There was a swishing sound and a car came even with us, throttle open. A tall aerial waved with the speed of the car. A big emblem was on the side. The car slowed as it came abreast.

Two state patrolmen were sitting in the front seat.

A
HAND
big enough to wrap around a basketball clamped itself over my stomach. Then the police car picked up speed again and went on by.

Nelle’s sigh was like a gush of air from a punctured tire. She gave a shaky laugh. “Right then,” she said, “I was thinking how nice it would be to have a little house in a quiet neighborhood. Just now I’d be getting up to give the baby his formula.”

For a minute I thought she was nuts; then I got the idea. “What’s his name?” I asked.

Nelle’s laugh wasn’t quite so shaky. She laid her head momentarily on my shoulder, then lifted it. “Things aren’t that easy, Nick. We aren’t out of this yet.”

I said, “When you propositioned me you weren’t trying to get me to help Johnny, you were trying to get me into a position so I couldn’t turn him in.”

“I was playing on your feeling for me.”

“You knew then?”

“You’re rather transparent, Nick. I was taking advantage of that.”

“And you would have gone through with it?”

“Yes,” she said. “And probably hated you for accepting me that way.”

“But done it, nevertheless. Because Johnny told you to?”

“No, I had the idea on my own. Johnny was mad when he found out later.”

“That’s one I missed,” I admitted. “But you did know that he was in trouble?”

“Yes,” she said. “Getting you to Los Angeles on that false lead was his idea. He was afraid of your loyalty to Kane Hall.”

“I know that,” I said. “And Kane was afraid of my loyalty to Johnny. Just a one-man dog trying to decide which guy’s feet to lie down by.”

She didn’t answer. I said, “What was the deal with Edna Loomis?”

“She offered Johnny twenty-five thousand dollars to find the murderer for her.”

“Did he take the job?” I asked.

“Like you did,” Nelle said. “He told me that he was on the trail of something hot, something big.”

I said, “He found out when he first went down to Portland that she had the hundred and fifty thousand. He used his eyes and that grin on her and got a little inside information.”

Nelle said, “He was with her the night Considine was killed.”

“But not at the time,” I said. “Anyway, that alibi is shot.”

Nelle was playing with the cigarets, a little nervous again. I suggested that she light one for me. She did so and took one for herself. She puffed like a kid but it seemed to give her something to do.

“Edna Loomis,” I went on, “came to the Oxnan to keep an eye on Hall and his men. She wanted to be sure she was going to hang onto the dough. It was a nervy thing to do.”

“I don’t see how she got away with it,” Nelle said.

“She had to have inside help,” I said.

I could feel Nelle growing rigid by my side. We were nearing an all-night truck stop. The State patrol car was sitting there. I kept the same speed. My hands were aching from the grip I had on the wheel. As we went by, a glance showed that the prowl car was empty.

“Too damned easy,” I said.

Nelle relaxed. I spoke again quickly, to keep her that way. “What about the ten thousand that you gave to Edna Loomis?”

“Johnny told me to give it back,” she said. “I was supposed to give her all the money. But I thought I could bargain better if I held out a little. When I saw her I didn’t trust her.”

Nelle’s help was a little abortive, I thought. I said, “Did she want it back?”

“That was the idea,” Nelle said. “Johnny was in the hotel for a while, too. She contacted him and demanded action. He was still stalling her and he told her to go to work on you—to see how much you knew. Then you showed up at her apartment.”

I remembered the phone call between Johnny and Edna Loomis. I said, “So returning the money the first time was a bluff to keep her in line.”

“Yes,” Nelle said. “Then last night, in Portland, she said that she’d changed her mind and wanted it all back.”

“That’s because she thought she could get me cheaper,” I said. “She was the kind to work that woman’s privilege gag to death.”

“She worked more than one gag to death,” Nelle said surprisingly. She lit herself another cigaret from the stub of the first. Her hand shook a little.

I watched dirty gray daylight coming over the mountains, and it reminded me of an earlier morning. “That’s what I was doing at her place,” I told Nelle. “Guarding her.”

I could see that talking of Edna Loomis’ death kept reminding Nelle of Johnny’s connection with it. She said, “Maybe Peone killed her, Nick—before he got killed.”

“No soap,” I said. “Too many people know that he was allergic to guns. They scared him.” Nelle bowed her head and fell silent. I went on, “By the way, how did Johnny and Edna Loomis manage to work so freely inside the Oxnan?”

“Through Quist,” Nelle said.

I knew that much. I said, “He wasn’t on duty all the time.”

“Johnny said,” she explained, “that he just went out when Quist was on duty. I only went in then—except the one time to give her the money.”

“Edna Loomis I can understand,” I said. “But what was Johnny’s idea of sticking his neck into that hornet’s nest?”

“He said that it had something to do with the big job he was working on,” Nelle answered. “He was awfully funny about it, Nick. He acted as if he were afraid to tell even me too much.”

“Maybe he didn’t like your connection with me.”

“He knew how I felt,” she conceded.

At Olympia I turned off the headlights. Shortly after, Nelle fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. As we neared the Oxnan I moved regretfully. She came quickly awake, blinking a little.

I said, “How did you and Johnny get to Portland this last time?”

“In Edna Loomis’ car. This one.”

“You all went together?”

“Yes, of course.”

“After he beefed with her?”

Nelle said, “No. She didn’t change her mind about having Johnny help her until we were in Portland. After Hall was shot, Johnny said he had to get back there. Edna Loomis decided to go too. I don’t know why.”

“I do,” I said. “Her double-cross was beginning to catch up with her. Why did you go along?”

“Johnny took me.” I caught a glimpse of a faint smile. “I guess he was afraid I’d go to you.”

“I love to be trusted like that,” I said. I swung around a final corner coasting, going slowly. The small entrance to the hotel was just ahead. A car was parked across the street, two men in it. Nelle made an unintelligible sound and I jammed the gears to second and stepped on the throttle.

We went past the standing car and our tires screamed as I made the far corner. I heard it start up, back around, and take off after us.

“Listen,” I said jerkily, “we have to lose him. I need a few minutes inside the hotel. If we can shake him long enough to let me slip out, you give them a chance to chase you.”

It was asking a lot. This would hardly help Nelle’s already dubious standing with the cops.

She said, “All right,” as if she didn’t mind being made a sacrificial goat.

We had a start on them because they had been forced to turn around, and now I did a few whips through the streets, cut into an alley and came out near the Oxnan again. I went down the alley that ran behind it, stopped so sharply that Nelle nearly went through the windshield, and climbed out.

She slid beneath the wheel.

“Sit tight when they get you,” I said.

“Powers won’t do much,” she said. “Not to me. Not now.” Her voice was dull, as if she had done everything that she could and nothing else mattered. She added, “Didn’t you see the back seat of that car?”

“All I saw was cops,” I said.

Nelle put the big coupe into gear. “Johnny was sitting there between two detectives,” she said.