Man on a leash - By Charles Williams Page 0,18
She’d be all for it, and half an hour later it was out; she was going to get a job on a cruise ship or hook up with some couple sailing around the world. The only thing she never mentioned was going back to San Francisco, which was screwy, because she was always crazy about it.”
Brubaker frowned. “Well, did she see any of her friends?”
“No. She didn’t even want anybody to know she was here. She was nervous as a cat, pacing all the time, but she wouldn’t budge out of the house. I told her she could use the car any time she wanted it and asked her why she didn’t drive out to Paulette’s and visit and have a swim, but no, she didn’t want to see anybody. She’d jump six feet when the phone rang, or the doorbell—”
“And you didn’t know she was on the stuff? There were needle tracks all over her arm.”
“God damn it, maybe I didn’t want to know! Anyway, she always wore things with sleeves like so—” Bonner made a slashing gesture with one hand across the other forearm.
“Three-quarters,” Paulette said.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Brubaker asked.
“About two o’clock this morning.”
“When you got home from the store?”
“Yeah. Her bedroom door was closed; but I looked in, and she was asleep.”
Brubaker shook his head. “Probably faking it so you’d cork off and she could slip out. If she was desperate enough for a fix to walk four miles and burglarize a house, she wasn’t sleeping, believe me.”
“Well, why did she wait till I got home? I was at the store from six P.M. on, and she could have taken off any time.”
“Maybe it still wasn’t unbearable then, and she was trying to sweat it out. She probably had a little she’d brought from San Francisco. Also, after two A.M. there’d be no traffic on the road and she wouldn’t be seen. Did she ever mention Captain Romstead?”
“No, not that I recall.”
“But she did know he was dead?”
“Yes. At least, I told her, but you could never be sure she was paying any attention to what you were saying. It didn’t seem to interest her.”
“Do you know whether she’d ever been in the house here?”
Bonner’s face was savage. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, obviously she knew the stuff was in here and right where to find it.”
It was Paulette who answered. “No, I don’t think she was ever in here. As far as I can recall, a few days last Christmas was the only time she’s been home since Captain Romstead moved here, and he was in San Francisco then.”
Brubaker nodded, his face thoughtful. “That still leaves the question, then, of how she was so sure she’d find it here ... But I guess that’s all, Lew, except I’m sorry as hell about it.”
Bonner started out. He turned in the doorway and asked Paulette, “You want a lift home?”
“No, thanks, Lew. There’s something else I want to see Mr. Brubaker about.” She got up, however, and went out with him.
“How old was she?” Romstead asked.
“Twenty-four or twenty-five. Jesus Christ, that’s what tears you up.” Brubaker took a cigar from his pocket and started removing cellophane. They heard the Porsche go down the drive, and Paulette came back in.
“Good God, not that smudge pot,” she said to Brubaker, “unless you want us to yell police brutality. Here.” She flipped up the top of the black case, dug in it for the box of cigars, and held it out. He took it, completely deadpan, lifted out one of the tubes, and pulled the cap off, watching as she started to close the case again. Innocence itself, she flipped the robe out full length, folded it carefully, and replaced it so she could bring the lid down. He sighed.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s hear it.”
She told him about the trip to Las Vegas. He went out to the garage to verify the mileage on the Mercedes. When he came back, he looked thoughtful, but he shook his head.
“So he just went to San Francisco with somebody else,” he said. “Probably one of the outfit he was dealing with.”
“But where did he go on that dirt road?” Romstead asked. “And why? If we could find the place—”
“You got any idea how many old ruts there are out there through the sagebrush and alkali flats in a radius of twenty-seven miles? To windmills and feeding stations and old mining claims? And if you did find it,