A. Fair: Owls Don't Blink

I pushed back my chair, said, “You’d better light that cigar before you chew it to death.”

I saw his eyebrows come together again. “You’re getting a hell of a lot of information without giving much.”

“Perhaps I haven’t much to give.”

“And then again, perhaps you have. Listen, Donald, I’m going to tell you something.”

“What?”

“If you’re playing around with that woman, we’re going to nail you.”

“What woman?”

“Roberta Fenn.”

“What about her?”

“The police in New Orleans want her, and the way things are now, so do we.”

“What’s the next paragraph?”

“If you know where she is and are keeping her under cover, you’re going to get a spanking right where it’s going to hurt, and it’s going to be a nice, hard spanking.”

I said, “Okay, thanks for the tip,” and walked out.

From a booth in the building, I called the office. Bertha Cool had just come in. I told her I’d be there in about two hours. She wanted to know what was doing, and I told her I couldn’t discuss it over the telephone.

I went to the hotel. Roberta Fenn was sleeping late. I sat on the edge of her bed, said, “Let’s talk,”

“Okay.”

“This man Craig. What about him?”

“I was going with him.”

“Did you perhaps want to marry him, and he wouldn’t marry you?”

“No.”

“Were you in trouble?”

“No.”

“You knew the people he was working for?”

“Yes. Roxberry, and after Roxberry died, the Roxberry Estates.”

“Did he ever talk to you about the business affairs of the company?”

“No.”

I held her eyes. “Did he ever mention Edna Cutler?”

“No.”

I said, “You could be lying, you know.”

“Why, Donald?”

“If you and Edna Cutler were teamed up together and if perhaps the two of you framed that deal up on Marco Cutler, you might find yourself facing two murder raps instead of one.”

“Donald, I’ve told you the truth about that,”

“You didn’t have any idea papers were going to be served on you as Edna Cutler?”

“Absolutely not. I didn’t know where Edna was, I tell you. I just went in there and took her name the way we agreed, and—”

“I know,” I told her. “You’ve gone all over that before.”

I got up off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m working.”

She said, “I’m going to get some breakfast, and then go down and buy a few clothes. I feel awfully naked without a nightgown.”

I said, “You’d better stay off the streets. Have your meals served up here. Get whatever things you want in the department store across the street. Don’t do any telephoning, and no matter what you do, don’t try to communicate with Edna Cutler.”

“Why should I try to communicate with her?”

“I don’t know. I’m just telling you not to.”

“I won’t, Donald. I promise. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

I said, “We’re coming back to that murder case.”

The expression on her face showed how she felt about it.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to take it up again. That masked figure that came walking toward the car wearing an overcoat was limping?”

“Yes.”

“When he ran away, he didn’t limp?”

“That’s right.”

“The figure was medium-sized?”

“Well, yes. Rather — I’ve thought that over a lot since then. I was excited you know at the time — but without the overcoat, I think he’d have been rather slender.”

I said, “Okay, think this one over. Could it have been a woman?”

“A woman! Why, the man tried to make me! He—”

“All right,” I interrupted. “That’s part of the gag. Could it have been a woman?”

She frowned, said, “Of course, the overcoat concealed the figure. He was wearing pants and man’s shoes, but—”

“ Could it have been a woman?”

“Why, yes,” she said, “of course it could. But then he tried to make me go with him. He—”

I said, “That’s all. Forget about it. You’re certain Craig never said anything to you about Edna Cutler?”

“Why, no. I don’t know that he knew her. Did he?”

“I don’t know. I’m asking you.”

“He never said anything.”

I said, “Okay, be good. Be seeing you for dinner. ’By.”

The man at the Navy Recruiting Office didn’t ask a lot of questions. He just hit the high spots and gave me a questionnaire to fill out. When I had the blanks all filled in, he looked it over, said, “When do you want your physical examination?”

“How soon can I have it?”

“Now if you want it.”

“I want it now.”

I was escorted into a back room and relieved of my clothes. They gave me the works — and passed me.

“How much time do you want to get your business straightened up?”

“Twenty-four hours?” I asked.

“Okay. Be back here at one o’clock Tuesday afternoon, ready to go.”

I told him I’d be there, and drove up to the agency office. Bertha was fuming with impatience.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded.

“I was in a couple of times during the morning, but you weren’t here, so I had to go ahead on my own.”

Her eyes were snapping. “What have you been doing now, wrecking the business, I suppose?”

“I hope not.”

She handed me a wire.

Congratulations to your owl. Arriving eight-thirty plane. Meet me airport.

The signature was Emory G. Hale .

“I know,” I said. “I telephoned him,”

“What did you telephone him?”

“That I’d found Roberta Fenn.”

“I thought you said not to tell him.”

“No. It’s all right to tell him that.”

Bertha said, “The afternoon papers have headlines. Solution of New Orleans murder sought here. The paper says police are looking for Roberta Fenn. They’ve dug up the stuff about her being mixed up in the murder of Howard Chandler Craig, the guy who was killed by Rixmann, the petting-party bandit.”

“Uh huh.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“No.”

“Trying to pump you for information,” Bertha said angrily, “is a hopeless task. You have to pour in more than you can hope to take out. What I’m trying to tell you is that she’s hot. If you know where she is, or if you’ve hid her out, you’re going to get your fingers burned.”

“How’s the war-construction business coming along?”

Instantly Bertha went on the defensive. Her aggressive manner disappeared. She was suavely polite. “Bertha’s going to have to talk with you about that, lover.”

“What about it?”

“If anyone should ask you any questions, remember that while you aren’t familiar with the details, you’re the big executive. Bertha hasn’t been feeling well lately. I think it’s her heart, and she’s got to rely more and more on you. Bertha signed this contract. There’s some money in it, if we watch things carefully and don’t let those carpenters slip things over on us. But you’ve got to take over most of the management.”

“On account of your heart?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know it was bothering you.”

“I didn’t either until all the strain and excitement caught up with me. I don’t think it’s anything serious, but it bothers me.”

“How?”

“Palpitation after eating.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“And I get short of breath sometimes.”

“Did you go to a doctor?”

“When I lie down, I can feel my heart pounding so it shakes the whole bed.”

“But the question is, did you go to a doctor?”