Ed McBain - The Last Brief

‘Go on, Grace, it’s for your own good.’

‘What is it, Miss?’ Andy asked gently.

‘Well...”

‘Go on, Grace. Just the way you told it to me. Go on.’

‘Well, it was last week. I...’

‘Where was this, Miss?’

‘Outside the high school. I cut my last period, a study hour. I wanted to do some shopping downtown, and anyway a study hour is nowhere. You know, they’re not so strict if you cut one.’

‘Yes, Miss.’

‘I got out early, about a half-hour before most of the kids start home. I was crossing the street when this car came around the corner. I got onto the sidewalk, and the car slowed down and started following me.’

‘What kind of a car, Miss?’

‘A big, black one.’

‘Did you notice the year and make?’

‘No. I’m not so good at cars.’

‘All right, what happened?’

‘Well, the man driving kept following me, and I started walking faster, and he kept the car even with me all the time. He learned over toward the window near the kerb and said, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go for a ride.”’ She paused. ‘Daddy, do I have to...’

She swallowed hard, and then stared down at her loafers.

‘I didn’t answer him. I kept walking, and he pulled up about ten feet ahead of me, and sat waiting there. When I came up alongside the car, he opened the door and got out. He... he... made a grab for me and... and I screamed.’

‘What happened then?’

‘He got scared. He jumped into the car and pulled away from the kerb. He was going very fast. I stopped screaming after he’d gone because... because I didn’t want to attract any attention.’

‘When was this, Miss?’

‘Last week.’

‘What day?’

‘It was Wednesday,’ Mr. Sullivan put in. ‘She came home looking like hell, and I asked her what was wrong, and she said nothing. I didn’t get the story out of her until today.’

‘You should have reported this earlier, Miss,’ Andy said.

‘I... I was too embarrassed.’

‘Did you notice the licence plate on the car?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you get the number?’

‘No. It was a funny plate.’

‘How do you mean funny?’

‘It was a New York plate, but it had a lot of lettering on it.’

‘A lot of lettering? Was it a suburban plate? Was the car a station wagon?’

‘No, it wasn’t.’

‘A delivery truck?’

‘No, it was a regular car. A new one.’

‘A new car,’ I repeated.

‘Are you going to do something about this?’ Mr. Sullivan asked.

‘We’re going to try, sir. Did you get a good look at the man, Miss?’

‘Yes. He was old. And fat. He wore a brown suit.’

‘How old would you say, Miss?’

‘At least forty.’

Mr. Sullivan smiled, and then the smile dropped from his face. ‘There should be a cop around there. There definitely should be.’

‘Would you be able to identify the man if we showed him to you?’

‘Yes, but... do I have to? I mean, I don’t want any trouble. I don’t want the other kids to find out.’

‘No one will find out, Miss.’

‘This wouldn’t have happened if there was a cop around,’ Mr. Sullivan said.

‘There was a cop,’ I told him. ‘He’s dead.’

When they left, we got some coffee and mulled it over a bit more.

‘A new car,’ Andy said.

‘With a funny plate. What the hell did she mean by a funny plate?’

‘On a new car.’

I stood up suddenly.

‘What?’ Andy said.

‘A new car, Andy. A funny plate. A New York plate with lettering on it. For Christ’s sake, it was a dealer’s plate!’

Andy snapped his fingers. ‘Sure. That explains how he kept the car hidden so well. It’s probably on some goddamn garage floor, hidden behind the other cars in the showroom.’

‘Let’s go, Andy,’ I said.

It wasn’t difficult. It’s tough to get a dealer’s franchise, and there aren’t many dealers in any specific neighbourhood. We tried two, and hit the jackpot on the third try.

We spotted the car in one corner of the big garage. We walked over to it, and there was a mechanic in grease-stained coveralls working on the right headlight.

‘Police,’ I told him. ‘What’s wrong there?’

He continued working, apparently used to periodic checks from the Automobile Squad. ‘Sealbeam is broken. Just replacing it.’

‘What happened to the grille?’

‘Oh, a small accident. Damn shame, too. A new car.’

Andy walked around to the back and saw the paint scratches on the trunk. He nodded when he came around to me again.

‘Back’s all scratched, too,’ he said to the mechanic.

‘Yeah, this goddamn car’s been a jinx ever since we got it in.’

‘How so?’

‘Got a headache with this one. The day we took it out for a test, the fool driver ran it into a ditch. Sliced hell out of both rear tires, and we had to replace them. All this in the first week we had this pig.’

‘Did you replace with Allstate?’ I asked.

The mechanic looked up in surprise. ‘Why, yeah. How’d you know?’

‘Where’s your boss?’ Andy asked.

‘In the front office.’ The mechanic got up. ‘Hey, what’s this all about?’

‘Nothing that concerns you, Mac. Fix your car.’

We went to the front office, a small cubicle that held two desks and two leather customer chairs. A stout man was sitting at one desk, a telephone to his ear. I estimated his age at about forty-two, forty-three.

He looked up and smiled when we came in, nodded at us, and then continued talking.

‘Yes... well, okay, if you say so. Well look, Sam, I can’t sell cars if I haven’t got them... You just do your best, that’s all. Okay, fine.’ He hung up without saying goodbye, got out of his chair and walked over to us.

‘Can I help you gentlemen?’

‘Yes,’ Andy said. ‘We’re interested in a car. Are you the owner of this place?’

‘I am.’

‘With whom are we doing business?’

‘Fred Whitaker,’ he said. ‘Did you have any particular car in mind?’

‘Yes. The black Buick on the floor.’

‘A beautiful car,’ Whitaker said, smiling.

‘The one with the smashed grille and headlight,’ I added.

The smile froze on his face, and he went white. ‘Wh... what?’

‘Did you smash that car up?’

Whitaker swallowed hard. ‘No... no. One of my mechanics did it.’

‘Who?’

‘I’ve... I’ve fired him. He...’

‘We can check this, Whitaker.’

‘Are... are you policemen?’

‘We are. Come on, let’s have it all. We’ve got a girl to identify you.’

Whitaker’s face crumbled. ‘I... I guess that’s best, isn’t it?’

‘It’s best,’ Andy said.

‘I didn’t mean to run him down. But the girl screamed, you know, and I thought he’d heard it. He stuck up his hand, and I... I got scared, I suppose, and there was no one around, so I... I knocked him... I knocked him down. Is he all right? I mean...’

‘He’s dead,’ I said.

‘Dead?’ Whitaker’s eyes went wide. ‘Dead...’

‘Was it you who smashed that picket fence?’ Andy asked.

Whitaker was still dazed.

‘Wh... what?’ he said.

‘The picket fence. On Barnes.’

‘Oh. Yes, yes. That was afterwards. I was still scared. I... I made a wrong turn, and I saw a police car, and I wanted to get away fast. I... I backed into the fence.’

‘Why’d you bother that little girl, Whitaker?’

He collapsed into a chair. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You’re in a jam,’ Andy said. ‘You’d better come along with us.’

‘Yes, yes.’ He stood up, took his hat from a rack in the corner, and then started for the door. At the door, he stopped and said, ‘I’d better tell my mechanics. I’d better tell them I’ll be gone for the day.’