The Chinese Doll полностью

“And two, I don’t see him writing a note or asking for the return of the bracelet. Especially the bracelet with that gimcrack engraved on it. That’s what is known as kicking a girl in the teeth after she is down.”

“Check, again. Eleanor didn’t see the note but she said it was in Evans’ handwriting.”

“Hell, it could have been forged. And three, I think Evans looked in on you for some other reason, real or imagined. He asked me for a reliable man in Boone. If he was afraid of a bastardy charge it would have been filed in Croyden; not in your town. And that wouldn’t have aroused his fear of a frame-up; that was too real. No — Leonore’s condition had nothing to do with his anxiety. His trouble was something he thought was about to happen in Boone — hence, you.”

“Yeah, but what?” My throat was dry and I wondered what was keeping Liebscher.

“I dunno,” Rothman shrugged. “And I can’t see, right now, where this Ashley fits in. Why should you phone him about Evans’ jailing? If Evans trusted him there would have been no need of those careful instructions he gave you. If he didn’t trust the attorney, why have you phone him at all?”

I stood up and walked to the window. Liebscher was coming along the sidewalk below me with another armload of beer.

“Let’s say Evans and Ashley were in some kind of business with the mutual friend,” Rothman rambled on. “The gambler friend of yours. Now suppose Evans decided to get out? Here’s this unexpected event showing up at home — I mean at Leonore’s — and he thinks the time has come to go straight; to get the hell out of his racket partnership and take care of Leonore and the kid right. But hell — where do your police fit into it? Do you have crooked cops?”

“Nope. The only man on the force I don’t trust is the chief. He swiped my license when it expired.”

“Why don’t you inquire into his background? It may be a useless pastime, but if you can find anything on him at all, you can force him to renew your license.”

Liebscher had reached the doorway to the stairs. He carefully set down his load on the bottom step and bent over to tie a shoelace.

“It strikes me,” I said over my shoulder, and idly wondering why Liebscher was wasting time with a shoelace, “that if Evans wanted to get out of something, or if the gambler wanted to get Evans out, it could be done in a friendly little family way. What’s the sense in tossing Evans into jail on a trumped-up charge? Why couldn’t — what the hell is the matter with you!”

Rothman had jumped off the desk and hurled his prized derby to the ceiling. It fell unheeded on the floor.

He was staring at me, open-mouthed.

Liebscher pushed through the door, staring at me with a queer expression on his face.

Rothman whirled on him, pointing a finger at me.

“You should have heard what this guy said,” he exclaimed. “What he just said—”

“Never mind that,” Liebscher interrupted briskly. “You should see what this guy has just done to us!”

We were all on our feet.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Take a look down into the street. In the doorway of that bakery across the street. We’ve got a shadow.”

Louise: Hazel just walked in with the lunch tray and asked for her pen back. She’s promised to let me have it a while again this afternoon.

  Boone, Ill.

  Friday, P.M.

Dearest Louise:

Please excuse the interruption; I couldn’t help it. It seems they have regular and rigid rules around here as to when patients eat their meals and when they have rest periods. Hazel is a good nurse, but she is also damned infuriating.

To get back to Rothman and Liebscher:

Rothman said to me: “You don’t know what you’ve said? Don’t be stupid! You mentioned the one thing we’ve been trying to put our fingers on. Look, the gambler did handle the affair in a friendly, family way. Doesn’t that phrase make things click in your head?”

“There should be something—” I began doubtfully.

He kept on, “The gambler wanted to get rid of Evans. Because, maybe, Evans asked to be let out and that wouldn’t do. Not in their business, whatever it was and whatever else it embraced. The business was the kind where you simply don’t walk out. So Evans had to be taken out — safely. See?”

“No.”

“Don’t be dense, Horne. When you are mixed up in dirty things like that you simply can’t get bored and step out. You stay in until you go out the hard way... or to jail. This is a big-time gambling outfit. Suddenly Evans wanted to quit it. Probably because of Leonore. But you see, he knew all the ins and outs of the outfit. That don’t make for a long life.

“On the other hand, Evans may not have wanted to get out. He was making a good slice of dough out of it, why should he want to quit? But suppose the gambler wanted him out? Suppose they had fallen out of sorts a long time ago and the gambler was only waiting on an opportunity.

“So what? So one day he discovers that Leonore was — you know. A perfect, tailor-made opportunity.