Росс Макдональд - The Instant Enemy

I went back into Sebastian’s room. The girl was still lying face down on the bed with Langston standing over her.

“I’ll drop you off at your house,” I said to him. “I’m sorry I ruined the night for you.”

“You didn’t. I was glad to help, and that still goes. One thing. I feel I should talk to the local police.”

“Let me handle that part. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The girl got up when I told her to, and the four of us drove across town. The lights were on in Langston’s house. His wife came running out to greet him, wearing a red Chinese robe.

“You shouldn’t run,” he told her. “Haven’t you been to bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was scared something would happen to you.” She turned on me. “You promised you wouldn’t keep him up all night.”

“No I didn’t. Anyway it’s only four.”

“Only four!”

“You shouldn’t be standing out here in the cold.” Langston took her into the house, lifting his hand to me before he closed the door.

It was a dreary ride south to Malibu. The girl sat silent between me and her father. He made a few attempts to talk to her, but she pretended to be deaf.

One thing was clear. By changing the rules of the game to include outrage, she had gained an advantage over him. He had more to lose than she had. He was losing it, but he hadn’t lost hope of holding on to something. She acted as if she had.

I dropped them off in the parking lot where Sebastian had left his car. I waited until they were in it, and blue smoke puffed from its exhaust. Sandy made no attempt to run. Perhaps she realized there was no place to run to.

Below the narrow town a high tide was roaring on the beach. I caught glimpses of the breakers between the buildings, faintly phosphorescent in the beginning light.

It was too soon for another day to start. I checked into the first motel I came to.

I WOKE UP PROMPTLY at eight. It was still too early, but my stomach was groaning. I went out and had a slice of grilled ham, two eggs fried over easy, a pile of toast, a side order of dollar-size pancakes with raspberry syrup, and several cups of black coffee.

By this time I felt as ready as I would ever feel to talk to Mrs. Marburg. Without phoning her in advance, I drove out to the Hackett place. The gate was standing open. I had a heavy déjà-vu feeling as I drove up past the artificial lake. The ducks had not returned, and the mud hens were still on the far side of the water.

A Cadillac coupe displaying a doctor’s caduceus was standing in front of the house. A youthful-looking man with clever eyes and iron-gray hair met me at the door.

“I’m Dr. Converse. Are you from the police?”

“No, I’m a private detective working for Mrs. Marburg.” I told him my name.

“She didn’t mention you.” He stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind him. “Exactly what has been going on around here? Has something happened to Stephen Hackett?”

“Didn’t Mrs. Marburg tell you?”

“She gave me some intimations of disaster. But she seems to think she can undo the mischief by not talking about it. She made a fearful row when I insisted on calling the police.”

“What’s her big objection to the police?”

“She has a fixed idea that they’re corrupt and incompetent. I suppose she’s entitled to it, after what happened to her previous husband.”

“What happened to him?”

“I assumed you knew. He was shot to death on the beach about fifteen years ago. I’m not too clear about the details – it was before my time – but I don’t believe the killer was ever found. Anyway, getting back to the present, I explained to Mrs. Marburg that the law requires physicians and hospitals to report all serious injuries.”

“Are we talking about Lupe?”

“Yes. I called an ambulance and sent him to the hospital.”

“Is he seriously hurt?”

“I wouldn’t attempt to say. I’m an internist, not a brain surgeon, and these head injuries can be tricky. I’m putting him in the hands of a competent man, Dr. Sunderland at St. John’s Hospital.”

“Is Lupe conscious?”

“Yes, but he refuses to talk about what happened.” The doctor’s fingers tweezered my upper arm. He was wearing some piny scent which made me want to sneeze. “Do you know who hit him over the head?”

“It was a seventeen-year-old girl. Lupe’s probably ashamed of it.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Sandy Sebastian.”

He frowned in a puzzled way. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But Sandy isn’t a rough girl at all.”

“How well do you know her, doctor?”

“I’ve seen her once or twice, professionally. That was some months ago.” His fingers tightened on me. “What happened with her and Lupe, anyway? Did he attempt to attack her?”

“You’ve got it turned around. Sandy and her boyfriend were on the attack. Lupe was defending himself and I assume Mr. Hackett.”

“What’s happened to Mr. Hackett? Surely you can tell me, I’m his physician.” But Converse lacked authority. He looked and sounded like a society doctor who made his living by talking to money in the proper tone of voice. “Has he been injured, too?”

“He’s been kidnapped.”

“For ransom?”

“For kicks, apparently.”

“And Miss Sebastian and her friend are responsible?”

“Yes. I caught Sandy last night and brought her home. She’s with her parents in Woodland Hills. She’s not in very good shape emotionally, and I think a doctor should see her. If you’re her doctor–”

“I’m not.” Dr. Converse let go of me and moved away as if I’d suddenly become contaminated. “I saw her just once, last summer, and I haven’t seen her since. I can’t call up her home and force my professional attentions on her.”

“I suppose not. What did you treat her for last summer?”

“It would hardly be professional to tell you.”

Communications had suddenly broken down. I went inside to talk to Mrs. Marburg. She was in the living room, half lying on a long chair with her back to the window. There were bluish bulges under her eyes. She hadn’t changed her clothes since the night before.

“No luck, eh?” she said hoarsely.

“No. Did you sleep at all?”

“Not a wink. I had a bad night. I couldn’t get a doctor to come out here. When I finally got Dr. Converse, he insisted on informing the police.”

“I think it’s a good idea. We should lay the whole thing out for them. They can do things I couldn’t do if I hired a thousand men. They have a new statewide computer system for spotting cars, for example. The best chance we have is to pick up Sebastian’s car.”

She drew air hissingly between her teeth. “I wish I’d never heard of that creep or his wretched little daughter.”

“I caught the girl, if that’s any comfort to you.”

Mrs. Marburg sat up straight. “Where is she?”

“At home with her mother and father.”

“I wish you’d brought her to me. I’d give a good deal to know what goes on in her head. Did you question her?”

“Some. She won’t talk freely.”

“What was her motivation?”

“Sheer malice, as far as I can see. She wanted to hurt her father.”

“Then why in God’s name didn’t they kidnap him?”

“I don’t know. Did the girl have any trouble with your son?”

“Certainly not. Stephen treated her very well. It was Gerda who was her special friend, of course.”

“Where is Mrs. Hackett?”

“Gerda’s still in her room. She might as well sleep, she’s no particular help to anybody. She’s no better than Sidney.”

She spoke with the fretful impatience of near-despair. Mrs. Marburg was evidently one of those stubborn souls who reacted to trouble by trying to take charge of a situation and make all the decisions. But the thing was slipping out of her hands, and she knew it.