James Chase - You Must Be Kidding

‘What have you got, doc?’ Hess asked.

‘A mess.’ Lowis shrugged. ‘At a close guess, I’d say he was killed around two o’clock this morning. His killer probably knocked on the door and when Boone opened up, stabbed him: an instant killing. The chopping up was done with a broad bladed knife. Again at a guess, the kind of tool sugar cane cutters use. The head was removed with two violent strokes. The rest of the damage shows the weapon was as sharp as a razor.’

‘Can you get him out of here?’ Hess asked. ‘We want to go over the cabin.’

‘The boys are fixing him now... won’t be long.’

Lepski said, ‘I’ll talk to Miscolo. The girl who found him is in shock. Can’t get a thing out of her.’

A second ambulance arrived with screeching sirens.

‘I’ll put her under sedation and get her to the hospital,’ Lowis said and hurried off.

Katey lay on the sand, her hands covering her face while she moaned. Every now and then her heels drummed on the sand while a big crowd of hippies stared down at her. As Lepski walked over to them, Katey was whisked away in the second ambulance.

Chet Miscolo sat on the sand and Lepski dropped down beside him while the rest of the group gathered around.

‘He was killed around two this morning,’ Lepski said. ‘Did you hear anything?’

‘I was asleep... nothing. Poor Katey... she dug him.’

Lepski looked at the group of young people.

‘Anyone see or hear anything?’

A tall, thin youth moved forward. His hair stood around his head like a beehive.

‘I did,’ he said.

Dusty Lucas had joined Lepski and he took out his notebook.

‘Who are you?’ Lepski asked.

‘Bo Walker. I’m on vacation. Last night, I had to get up for a leak,’ the youth said. ‘The time was two forty-five.’

‘How did you know that, Bo?’

‘I have a watch, man. When I got out of my sack, I looked at my watch. My old man gave it to me for my twenty — first birthday. I like to look at the goddamn thing.’

‘So you got up for a leak at two forty-five... then what?’

‘There was a light on in Boone’s cabin. Okay, I thought, if a guy likes to stay up this late, so he stays up.’

‘Did you see him, Bo?’

‘I didn’t see a thing: just the light, but I heard something. I heard two bangs: the kind of bangs a butcher makes with a cleaver when cutting up meat.’

‘That guessing? How do you know the sound a butcher makes cutting up meat?’

Bo smirked.

‘My old man’s a butcher.’

‘This was two forty-five... right?’

‘Yeah.’

At least, Lepski thought, he had pinpointed the time. He felt sure the two blows Bo had heard was when the head had been severed.

‘Then what happened?’

‘I went back to my sack. That’s it.’

‘The light was still on when you got into your sack?’

‘Sure.’

‘Can you add to this, Bo? It’s important’

‘That’s it, man.’

‘You staying long?’

‘Sure. Another month. I dig this place.’

‘I’ll want to talk to you again, so stay put. Okay?’

Bo nodded.

‘And listen,’ Lepski went on, his voice serious, ‘keep this to yourself. Boone got under the limelight, and this killer fixed him. So say nothing to the media. Understand?’

A scared look came into Bo’s eyes.

‘You think this killer could come after me?’

‘Just keep your mouth shut,’ Lepski said, then looking around at the others, ‘Anyone else saw or heard anything?’

There was a negative shake of heads.

‘Get his home address,’ Lepski said to Dusty and hurried back to Boone’s cabin.

The homicide squad and the fingerprint men were working in the cabin. Hess, standing under a palm tree, smoked a cigar. Lepski told him what Bo Walker had said.

‘So, okay, we now know for sure when the guy was killed,’ Hess said. ‘That’s important.’ He stared at the cabin. ‘Maybe the boys will come up with something. Staying in there makes me sick to my stomach. It’s a goddamn blood bath, plus flies.’

Detective Hayes of the homicide squad came out of the cabin and walked over to Hess. He handed him two envelopes.

‘Found these in his duffle bag.’

As Hess studied the envelopes, Lepski peered over his shoulder. The first envelope was addressed to Mrs. Ken Brandon. The second was to Mr. Jefferson Sternwood. Removing the contents, Hess read the extortion notes Boone had shown Ken and Karen.

‘So this fink was blackmailing them,’ Hess said, putting the slips of paper back in their envelopes. ‘Here’s our motive.’

‘Yeah.’ Lepski slapped at a mosquito that was buzzing him. ‘You know, Fred, I can’t dig a guy like Brandon doing a cut-up job like this, nor do I see him doing that job on Janie. This is a nut job, and Brandon isn’t a nut.’

‘How do you know? How do you know what goes on in this guy’s mind?’ Hess said impatiently. ‘Here is a motive. Take these letters to the Chief and see what he thinks.’

Twenty minutes later, Lepski bounded into the Detectives room. As he came to a skidding stop before his desk, Max Jacoby signalled to him.

‘Levine, the tailor, called five minutes ago. He said he wanted to talk to you... urgent.’

‘The Chief in?’

‘He’s with the Mayor.’

Lepski sat at his desk and called Levine.

‘Lepski. You wanted me, Mr. Levine,’ he said when the tailor came on the line.

‘Those golf ball buttons, Mr. Lepski,’ Levine said. ‘I thought you should know. I’ve one jacket left. This morning I had a client interested. When I went to the rack, I found there’s a button missing on the jacket.’

Lepski stiffened to attention.

‘The button could have dropped off, Mr. Levine.’

‘Certainly not! It was cut off!’ Levine’s voice went up a note. ‘There’s nothing shoddy about my clothes, Mr. Lepski! This button was cut off!’

‘I’d like to borrow the jacket for a couple of days.’

‘I’ve sold the jacket. I put on another button.’

Lepski made a soft whistling noise, controlling his exasperation.

‘Who did you sell it to?’

‘A gentleman. He paid cash.’

‘Does that mean you don’t know his name?’

‘He was passing through. He said he was from Texas. Why should I need his name if he paid cash?’

‘Mr. Levine, suppose someone cut off the button and put it either on his jacket or among the duplicates you supply, would you know if the button was the original or the cut-off button?’

‘How would I know that? A button is a button.’

Lepski made a noise like a meat grinder hitting gristle.

‘What was that, Mr. Lepski?’ Levine asked, startled.

‘Okay. Okay. Thanks.’ and Lepski slammed down the receiver. He explained the situation to Jacoby.

‘Take Brandon’s jacket and the duplicate buttons to the lab boys,’ he said. ‘Ask them to see if the buttons all came from the same mould and at the same time.’

When Max had gone, Lepski sat at his desk, thinking, then he called Levine again.

‘Just another question, Mr. Levine. Did Mr. Ken Brandon visit your shop within the past two days?’

‘Mr. Brandon? No, I haven’t seen him for weeks. He is not one of my regular clients.’

Lepski sighed.

Well, he thought, at least it was a try. Thanking Levine, he hung up.

It wasn’t until 11.45 that Chief of Police Terrell returned to headquarters after a long session with the Mayor.

Beigler, Hess and Lepski joined him in his office.

‘Okay, Fred,’ Terrell said as he lit his pipe. ‘What have you got?’

‘The exact time when the killer cut off Boone’s head. As an alibi breaker, it is important, but that’s about it. The cabin is full of prints. We are checking each and every one... a big job. It would seem our nut is getting cute. It’s my guess, he stripped naked before he cut up Boone: so no blood stains on his clothing. From the look of the shower room, he washed off. There are traces of blood.