Росс Макдональд - The Far Side of the Dollar

“Where was it?”

“In his room, in one of the chests of drawers.”

“And you left it in the drawer?”

“There was no reason not to.”

“Then anybody with access to the house could have got hold of it?”

“Yes. Unfortunately that includes Tom. He could have sneaked in after he escaped from the school.”

“It also includes Dick Leandro, who wouldn’t have had to sneak in. He’s in and out of the house all the time, isn’t he?”

“I suppose he is. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“No, but when you put it together with the fact that Dick was probably seen at the Barcelona Hotel last night, it starts you thinking about him. There’s still something missing in this case, you know. The equations don’t balance.”

“Dick isn’t your missing quantity,” he said hastily.

“You’re quite protective about Dick.”

“I’m fond of him. Why shouldn’t I be? He’s a nice boy, and I’ve been able to help him. Dammit, Archer.”

His voice deepened. “When a fellow reaches a certain age, he needs to pass on what he knows, or part of it, to a younger fellow.”

“Are you thinking of passing on some money, too?”

“We may eventually. It will depend on Elaine. She controls the main money. But I can assure you it couldn’t matter to Dick.”

“It matters to everybody. I think it matters very much to Dick. He’s a pleaser.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means. He lives by pleasing people, mainly you. Tell me this. Does Dick know about the gun incident in Tom’s room?”

“Yes. He was with me that Sunday morning. He drove me to the judge’s house and home again.”

“He gets in on a lot of things,” I said.

“That’s natural. He’s virtually a member of the family. As a matter of fact, I expected him tonight. He said he had something he wanted to talk over with me.”

He looked at his watch. “But it’s too late now. It’s past eleven o’clock.”

“Get him out here anyway, will you?”

“Not tonight. I’ve had it. I don’t want to have to pull my face together and put on a front for Dick now.”

He looked at me a little sheepishly. He had revealed himself to me, a vain man who couldn’t forget his face, a secret man who lived behind a front. He pushed his silver mane back and patted it in place.

“Tonight is all the time we have,” I said. “In the morning you can expect Bastian and the sheriff and probably the DA pounding on your door. You won’t be able to put them off by simply denying that you bought that knife. You’re going to have to explain it.”

“Do you really think Dick took it?”

“He’s a better suspect than Tom, in my opinion.”

“Very well, I’ll call him.”

He rose and went to the telephone on the desk.”

“Don’t tell him what you want him for. He might break and run.”

“Naturally I won’t.”

He dialed a number from memory, and waited. When he spoke, his voice had changed again. It was lighter and younger. “Dick? You said something to Elaine about dropping by tonight. I was wondering if I was to expect you . . . I know it’s late. I’m sorry you’re not too well. What’s the trouble? . . . I’m sorry. Look, why don’t you come out anyway, just for a minute? Tom came home tonight, isn’t that great? He’ll want to see you. And I particularly want to see you . . . Yep, it’s an order .... Fine, I’ll look for you then.”

He hung up.

“What’s the matter with him?” I asked.

“He says he doesn’t feel well.”

“Sick?”

“Depressed. But he cheered up when I told him Tom was home. He’ll be out shortly.”

“Good. In the meantime I want to talk to Tom.”

Hillman came and stood over me. His face was rather obscure in the green penumbra. “Before you talk to him again, there’s something you ought to know.”

I waited for him to go on. Finally I asked him: “Is it about Tom?”

“It has to do with both of us.”

He hesitated, his eyes intent on my face. “On second thought, I don’t think I’ll let my back hair down any further tonight.”

“You may never have another chance,” I said, “before it gets let down for you, the hard way.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Nobody knows this particular thing but me.”

“And it has to do with you and Tom?”

“That’s right. Now let’s forget it.”

He didn’t want to forget it, though. He wanted to share his secret, without taking the responsibility of speaking out. He lingered by the table, looking down at my face with his stainless steel eyes.

I thought of the feeling in Hillman’s voice when he spoke of his love for Tom. Perhaps that feeling was the element which would balance the equation.

“Is Tom your natural son?” I said.

He didn’t hesitate in answering. “Yes. He’s my own flesh and blood.”

“And you’re the only one who knows?”

“Carol knew, of course, and Mike Harley knew. He agreed to the arrangement in exchange for certain favors I was able to do him.”

“You kept him out of Portsmouth.”

“I helped to. You mustn’t imagine I was trying to mastermind some kind of plot. It all happened quite naturally. Carol came to me after Mike and his brother were arrested. She begged me to intervene on their behalf. I said I would. She was a lovely girl, and she expressed her gratitude in a natural way.”

“By going to bed with you.”

“Yes. She gave me one night. I went to her room in the Barcelona Hotel. You should have seen her, Archer, when she took off her clothes for me. She lit up that shabby room with the brass bed–”

I cut in on his excitement: “The brass bed is still there, and so was Otto Sipe, until last night. Did Sipe know about your big night on the brass bed?”

“Sipe?”

“The hotel detective.”

“Carol said he was gone that night.”

“And you say you only went there once.”

“Only once with Carol. I spent some nights in the Barcelona later with another girl. I suppose I was trying to recapture the rapture or something. She was a willing girl, but she was no substitute for Carol.”

I got up. He saw the look on my face and backed away. “What’s the matter with you, is something wrong?”

“Susanna Drew is a friend of mine. A good friend.”

“How could I know that?” he said with his mouth lifted on one side.

“You don’t know much,” I said. “You don’t know how sick it makes me to sit here and listen to you while you dabble around in your dirty little warmed-over affairs.”

He was astonished. I was astonished myself. Angry shouting at witnesses is something reserved for second-rate prosecutors in courtrooms.

“Nobody talks to me like that,” Hillman said in a shaking voice. “Get out of my house and stay out.”

“I’ll be delighted to.”

I got as far as the front door. It was like walking through deep, clinging mud. Then Hillman spoke behind me from the far side of the reception hall.

“Look here.”

It was his favorite phrase.

I looked there. He walked toward me under the perilous chandelier. He said with his hands slightly lifted and turned outward: “I can’t go on by myself, Archer. I’m sorry if I stepped on your personal toes.”

“It’s all right.”

“No, it isn’t. Are you in love with Susanna?”

I didn’t answer him.

“In case you’re wondering,” he said, “I haven’t touched her since 1945. I ran into some trouble with that house detective, Sipe–”

I said impatiently: “I know. You knocked him down.”

“I gave him the beating of his life,” he said with a kind of naive pride. “It was the last time he tried to pry any money out of me.”