The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling - By Lawrence Block Page 0,71
in touch with me later on and explain that he’d been doped, too, and that was why he missed the appointment. Of course, all of that went sour when Arkwright gave her a hole in the head. But that’s why he sounded groggy when I spoke to him—he was putting on an act in advance.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I see,” she said. “A subtle pattern begins to emerge.”
“Now if we can get back to Artie Blinn—”
“What happened to your wallet?”
“Arkwright took it and stuck it under a cushion where the cops would be sure to find it. I told you, didn’t I? That’s how they knew to suspect me.”
“But what happened to it since then?”
“Oh,” I said. I patted my pocket. “I got it back. They had it impounded as evidence, but no one could say exactly what it was evidence of, and Ray talked to somebody and I got it back.”
“What about the five hundred dollars?”
“It was either gone before the cops got it, or some cop made a profit on the day. But it’s gone now.” I shrugged. “Easy come, easy go.”
“That’s a healthy attitude.”
“Uh-huh. Speaking of Artie—”
“Who was speaking of Artie?”
“Nobody was, but we’re going to. Artie wanted to know what happened to the bracelet.”
“Shit.”
“He said he asked you about it when you were over there with the photographs, but you said you’d forgotten to bring it along.”
“Double shit.”
“But I seem to remember that I asked you about it just before you got out of the car, and you said you had it right there in your pocket.”
“Yeah,” she said. She drank some more of the mint tea. “Well, I lied, Bernie.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not to you. To Artie and Gert. It was in my pocket but I told him it wasn’t.”
“I’ll bet you had a super reason.”
“As a matter of fact I had a shitty reason. I kept thinking how nice it would look on a certain person’s arm.”
“The certain person wouldn’t be Miranda Messinger, I don’t suppose.”
“It’s your intuitive brilliance that makes me love you, Bernie.”
“Here I thought it was my engaging smile. Does she like the bracelet?”
“Loves it.” She grinned up at me. “I went over there last night to return the Polaroid. She never even noticed it was missing. I gave her the bracelet as a peace offering, and I told her everything, and—”
“And you’re back together again.”
“Well, last night we were. I wouldn’t want to make any long-range projections. I’ll tell you, the way to that woman’s heart is through her wrist.”
“Whatever works.”
“Yeah. ‘You wouldn’t want to go and wear it on the East Side,’ I told her. ‘Because it’s just the least bit hot.’ ”
“Did you talk like that when you told her? Out of the side of your mouth?”
“Yeah. It really got to her. I swear the next time I buy her something I’m gonna tell her I stole it.” She sighed. “Okay, Bern. What do we do about the Blinns?”
“I’ll think of something.”
“I was gonna tell you, but—”
“I could tell you were eager to discuss it. The way you were so anxious to talk about the Blinns and all.”
“Well, I—”
“It’s cool,” I said. “Relax and eat your hummus.”
A little later she said, “Listen, Randy’s got a dance class tonight. You want to come by after work? We can have dinner in or out and then catch a movie or something.”
“I’d love to,” I said, “but tonight’s out.”
“Heavy date?”
“Not exactly.” I hesitated, then figured what the hell. “When we meet for drinks tonight,” I said, “I’ll make mine Perrier.”
She sat forward, eyes wide. “No shit. You’re going on a caper?”
“That’s not the word I’d use, but yeah, that’s about it.”
“Where?”
“Forest Hills Gardens.”
“The same neighborhood as the last time?”
“The same house. The coat I described to Ray Kirschmann wasn’t a fantasy. I saw it Wednesday night in Elfrida Arkwright’s closet. And I promised it to Ray, and when I make promises to cops I like to keep them. So I’m going back there tonight to get it.”
“Won’t Elfrida object?”
“Elfrida’s not home. She visited her hubby in jail yesterday, and then she went home and thought things through, and then she packed a bag and took off for parts unknown. Home to Mama, maybe. Or home to Palm Beach. I guess she didn’t want to stick around for the notoriety.”
“I can dig that.” She cocked her head and there was a faraway look in her eye. “He’s got it coming,” she said. “The bastard killed his mistress and he’s not going to serve time for it.