Флетчер Флора - Leave Her to Hell

Colly had obviously been tortured in the first place and murdered in the third place, and what had happened between in the second place was surely the telling of a secret that Colly had wanted to keep. It was a competent job of practical sadism, in the general sense of sadism without sex; and the first name that came into my mind was the name of Darcy. But why it should have, what the connection could possibly have been between Darcy and Colly, was something I didn’t know and couldn’t guess.

I backed out and closed the door and used Colly’s private phone to get Homicide at police headquarters. A Sergeant Dooley answered, and I told him who I was and where I was and why I was calling. I also told him the location and condition of Rosie. He told me to wait, and I said I would and hung up and started. It looked, I thought, like a long, long night, and while I was waiting for the police to come in the beginning of what was left of it, I went back in my mind to where I’d left Colly earlier and tried to think on from there.

Colly had been living off the fat — that was apparent — and such affluence was not commensurate with his ability, which was scant, and his practice, which was negligible. He had surely, in brief, been tapping for some time a source of revenue that had nothing to do with what he earned as a somewhat legitimate operator. Moreover, he had been dreaming of points south and Rosie on a beach, and this suggested strongly, if it did not establish, that he had planned a quick and considerable killing and a sudden exit. So he had made the definite arrangements for a dangerous meeting, and Rosie and Percy Hand had been essentials in the arrangements. The name of the person with whom Colly had met had been known to Rosie, and the purpose of the meeting had been known, and it had been her assignment, if anything went wrong for Colly, to see that justice, or at least retribution, was accomplished. I had been picked, or had as a result of a combination of circumstances presented myself, as the agent of the justice or the retribution, whichever you could call it. And maybe, just maybe, there was an association of Colly’s interests and mine of which I was still innocent.

Colly hadn’t really expected anything to go wrong, of course, because Rosie was supposed to prevent it. To secure his safety, as he thought, he had only to make clear to his blackmail victim that a third party was informed and would take appropriate action if anything happened out of order. But it was imperative to keep the identity of the third party secret, and Colly had, with the natural tendency of a petty operator to evaluate everyone in terms of himself, grossly underestimated his victim. And so he had died, and before he had died he had suffered, and between suffering and dying he had betrayed the one person on earth he had trusted because she had been the only one who trusted him. Colly was dead, and Rosie was dead, and one person had killed both. In the grim urgency of very little time, he had taken Colly’s keys and gone to Rosie’s apartment to eliminate the remaining threat to his security, and he had been gone from there, at the longest, only a little while before I had arrived.

This was speculation, of course. But it conformed to the facts and Colly’s character, and I was satisfied that this was substantially the way that Colly and Rosie had come to die. Somehow or other, in this deal or that, he had got onto a good thing, and so long as he’d exploited it with discretion he’d been tolerated and paid off. But then he’d got greedy — he’d got hot for the big killing — and the killing for his greed had been his own and Rosie’s. I sat there organizing the few facts that I had and formulating the theory that I believed so that I could offer them clearly to the police when they came. After what seemed like an inordinate time, but in fact wasn’t, they did come; and the one in charge was a Lieutenant Haskett.

I knew Haskett. We were not exactly friends, but there existed between us at least a tolerance based on a mutual moderate respect, and I admit that I was relieved to see him on the job. The night ahead still looked like a very long night indeed. But it might not, after all, be otherwise so bad as it might have been.

Haskett came into the room and spoke curtly, but not harshly, and went past me into the bathroom, where he remained for about twenty minutes with a couple of his men. Then he came out and straddled a straight chair and sat staring at me with his chin resting on the chair’s back. His hat was pushed back off a high bald forehead, and his glum expression seemed to indicate that his disposition was calm enough, if not cheerful.

“By God, Percy,” he said, “you’re finding bodies all over town tonight. How come?”

“Two bodies,” I said, “with connections.”

He nodded. “Keep on talking. I’m ready to listen.”

That’s what I did and what he did. I talked and he listened. I told him about Colly’s request and how I’d agreed to it. I told him how I’d waited from nine to ten in my office for a call that hadn’t come. I told him how I’d gone as per agreement to the apartment of Rosie to find her dead. I told him how I’d then gone to Colly’s office and found the building locked. I told him, finally, how I’d come to Colly’s room and found him as dead as Rosie, although by a different method. These were facts, the things that had happened. Afterward I told him my theory of why they were facts that had happened, and I had a notion that his generous ears were quivering as he heard me out.

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You think Colly was blackmailing someone. You think he got dissatisfied with a steady but small income and tried for a big bundle. You think his redheaded girl friend was a kind of passive partner in this and was killed because Colly had set her up as a threat to the victim and then, under torture, gave away her identity. Is this right?”

“That’s my theory.”

“Well, it’s a pretty good theory. Try to be just as convincing when you tell me why it happened to be you that Colly got involved in this savory little operation.”

“I don’t know. I guess it was because I happened to be suitable and convenient. I had some contact with Colly on another matter and had come here to see him earlier today. Or is it yesterday now? Anyhow, that’s when he appealed to me.”

“What other matter?”

“A private case. It’s got nothing to do with this business.”

“Okay. I’ll find out later if it begins to look important. Now tell me if you’ve got any idea of the identity of this theoretical blackmail victim and murderer.”

“I haven’t.”

“I didn’t think you would.” He shook his head without lifting his chin from the back of the chair. “All you’ve got are a few facts and a lot of notions. Well, I’ve got some more work to do here, and then I’d better run over and see how Sergeant Dooley and his crew are coming with Rosie. It’s sure as hell that there’s a connection, one way or another, and it might even turn out to be the way you’ve said.”

He stood up, and I said, “Look, Lieutenant. I ought to go to Amity tomorrow on a case. I won’t be gone more than a few days at the most, and if you want me in the meanwhile you’ll know where to find me. Okay?”

He looked at me with professional skepticism, but finally he grunted and nodded and took me on faith and my record.

“Okay, I guess. Right now, though, you’d better stick around and go over to Rosie’s with me. I might think of some questions for you after I get there. After that, you’ll have to go with me to headquarters and sign a statement.”

“Sure,” I said.

I sat and smoked and waited until he’d finished his work, which took about an hour. Then we went to Rosie’s, where everything had been taken care of efficiently by Dooley and his crew, and finally we went to headquarters, where I dictated and signed a statement. I got home around three-thirty.