and his finger stopped dialing the telephone on his desk. He was in the last stages of organizing a search party, and Marty Forager’s interruption was annoying. But he put his annoyance aside and spoke mildly. “About what, Marty?”
Forager sat heavily in the chair opposite the police chief, a surly expression darkening his face. “She hasn’t showed up yet, has she?”
“No,” Norton agreed, “she hasn’t. But I still don’t see what you’re getting at.”
“I know what this town thinks,” Forager challenged. “I hear the rumors too. They think my Annie lied. That nothing happened to her.”
“By now Anne was home, wasn’t she?” Norton replied quietly. He glanced at his watch. “Unless I’m wrong, Anne came in at eleven. It’s nearly eleven thirty now.”
Forager glared at him. “You wait,” he said. “You just wait, and you’ll see. Shell turn up, and she’ll turn up with the same story.”
“I don’t care what story she has,” Norton said. “I just hope she turns up.”
“She will,” Marty Forager repeated. “You just wait.”
“I will, Marty,” Ray Norton said as the man opposite him got to his feet “Where you heading?”
“Saw Conger’s lights on,” Martin Forager said thickly. “I thought I’d go over there and see what he’s up to.”
Ray Norton put on his best policeman manner. “I think I’d go on home if I were you,” he said, his voice turning it from a suggestion into an order. Forager swung slowly around to stare at the police chief.
“You telling me what to do?”
“Not really,” Norton said affably. “But it’s a busy night around here, and I think it’s a busy night at the Courier, too. And it doesn’t concern you, Marty. Go on home, and talk to Jack Conger in the morning if you still think you want to.”
“You and he are pretty buddy-buddy, aren’t you?” Forager said suspiciously. “And you both live out on the Point Road, where all the trouble seems to be, don’t you?” He leered drunkenly at the policeman, who considered the advantages of putting him in the one cell Port Arbello possessed to sleep it off. He decided against it. Instead, he smiled agreeably.
“That’s right, Marty. I thought you knew. Ever since I got to be chief of police and Jack Conger took over as editor of the Courier, we’ve been entertaining ourselves by kidnapping little girls. The woods are full of the bodies, but nothing will ever be done about it, because everybody knows that Jack and I are buddies and covering up for each other. In fact, and don’t spread this around, we’re queer for each other, and the real reason we’re out messing with little girls is so that no one will suspect that it’s really each other we turn on to.” He stood up. “Now, why don’t you go out and spread that one around, even though I asked you not to? It’s at least as plausible as the story your daughter told.”
He immediately regretted his last statement, but then he realized that Forager was too drunk to put together everything he’d said.
“That’s all right,” Forager muttered under his breath. “You’ll see. Something’s going on in this town, and it started with my daughter. You’ll see.” He shambled out the door, and Ray Norton stepped out from behind his desk to see where Forager was headed. He watched until he was sure the drunken man wasn’t headed toward the offices of the Courier, then went back to his desk. On an impulse, he picked up the phone and dialed quickly.
“Jack?” he said when he heard his friend’s voice answer. “If I were you I’d lock my front door.”
“What are you talking about?” Jack Conger said, and Ray Norton thought he heard a sharpness that didn’t fit with the light tone in which he’d couched his suggestion.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Marty Forager’s wandering around tonight, and he’s pretty drunk. He was just here, and he said he was going to see you next.”
“Is he headed this way?” Jack asked.
“Nah. He looked like he was heading for the tavern, but after a couple of more belts, he just might forget what I told him. Or worse, he might remember.”
“What’d you tell him?” Jack asked curiously.
Ray Norton recounted the ludicrous story he had made up for the benefit of the drunk, and was surprised when Jack Conger didn’t seem to think it was funny.
“That’s great,” Jack said, annoyance twisting his voice.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Norton said uneasily. “I imagine he’ll forget all