Росс Макдональд - The Barbarous Coast

He was silent for a period of time which was divided into shorter periods by the tic twitching at his eyelid. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Stern’s. And the gasoline was his idea. He said to put her to the torch, so that when they found the body they couldn’t establish when she died. The girl was dead already, see, all we did was cremate her.”

He looked down at the body. It was the image of the thing he feared, and it imposed silence on him. He reached out suddenly with his good arm, clawed at my shoulder and caught hold. “Can’t we get out of here, Lew? I’m a sick man, I can’t stand it in here.”

I shook him off. “When you’ve told me who killed the girl.”

There was another breathing silence. “Isobel Graff killed her,” he said finally.

“How do you know?”

“Marfeld saw her. Marfeld saw her come tearing out of the house with the fantods. He went in, and there was Hester in the living-room. She had her head beaten in with a poker. The poker was lying across her. We couldn’t leave her there. The cops would trace the Graff connection in no time–”

“What was Hester’s connection with Graff?”

“Isobel thought they were shacked up, let’s leave it at that. Anyway, it was up to me to do something with the body. I wanted to chuck it in the ocean, but Graff said no – he has a house on the ocean at Malibu. Then Lance Leonard got this other idea.”

“How did Leonard get into the act?”

“He was a friend of Hester’s. She borrowed his car, he came by to pick it up. Leonard had a key to her house, and he walked in on Marfeld and the body. He had his own reasons for wanting to cover it up, so he suggested getting her sister to help. The two sisters are look-alikes, almost like twins, and Leonard knew both of them. He talked the sister into flying here.”

“What was going to happen to her?”

“That was Carl Stern’s problem. But it looks as though Stern ran out on the whole deal. I don’t see how he can afford to do that.”

“You’re kind of out of touch,” I said. “You used to be an operator. When did you start letting goons and gunsills do your thinking for you?”

Frost grimaced and hung his head. “I’m not myself. I been full of demerol for the last three months.”

“You’re on a demerol kick?”

“I’m a dying man, Lew. My insides are being eaten away. I’m in terrible pain right at this moment. I shouldn’t be walking around.”

“You won’t be walking around. You’ll be sitting in a cell.”

“You’re a hard man, Lew.”

“You keep calling me Lew. Don’t do it. I ought to leave you here to find your own way back.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me?” He caught at me again, chattering. “Listen to me, Lew – Mr. Archer. About that Italy deal. I can get you five hundred a week for twenty-six weeks. No duties, nothing to do. A free holiday–”

“Save it. I wouldn’t touch a nickel of yours with rubber gloves on.”

“But you wouldn’t leave me here?”

“Why not? You left her.”

“You don’t understand. I only did what I had to. We were caught. The girl fixed it herself so that we were caught. She had something on the Man and his wife, evidence against them, and she turned it over to Carl Stern. He forced the deal on us, in a way. I would have handled it differently.”

“So everything you did was Stern’s fault.”

“I don’t say that, but he was calling the signals. We had to co-operate with him. We’ve had to now for months. Stern even forced the Man to lend his name to his big new operation.”

“What evidence does Stern hold against the Graff’s?”

“Would I be likely to tell you?”

“You’re going to tell me. Now. I’m getting sick of you, Frost.”

He backed away from me against the doorpost. The light fell on one side of his face and made his profile look as pale and thin as paper. As if corruption had eaten him away till he was only a surface laid on darkness.

“A gun,” he said. “A target pistol belonging to Mr. Graff. Isobel used it to kill a girl with, a couple of years ago.”

“Where does Stern keep the gun?”

“In a safe-deposit box. I found out that much, but I couldn’t get to it. He was carrying it with him last night, though, in the car. He showed it to me.” His dull eyes brightened yellowly. “You know, Lew, I’m authorized to pay a hundred grand for that little gun. You’re a strong, smart boy. Can you get it away from Stern?”

“Somebody already has. Stern got his throat cut in the course of the night. Or maybe you know that, Frost.”

“No. I didn’t know it. If it’s true, it changes things.”

“Not for you.”

We went outside. Below, the valley floor shimmered in its own white heat. The jet trail which slashed the sky was blurring out. In this anti-human place, the Cadillac on the road looked as irrelevant as a space-ship stalled on the mountains of the moon. Rina stood at the foot of the slope, her face upturned and blank. It was heavy news I carried down to her.

MUCH LATER, on the sunset plane, we were able to talk about it. Leroy Frost, denying and protesting and calling for lawyers and doctors, had been deposited with Marfeld and Lashman in the security ward of the hospital. The remains of Hester Campbell were in the basement of the same building, awaiting autopsy. I told the sheriff and the district attorney enough to have Frost and his men held for possible extradition on suspicion of murder. I didn’t expect it to stick. The final moves in the case would have to be made in California.

The DC-6 left the runway and climbed the blue ramp of air. There were only a dozen other passengers, and Rina and I had the front end of the plane to ourselves. When the NO SMOKING sign went out, she crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. Without looking at me directly, she said in a brittle voice: “I suppose I owe you my life, as they say in books. I don’t know what I can do to repay you. No doubt I should offer to go to bed with you. Would you like that?”

“Don’t,” I said. “You’ve had a rough time and made a mistake, and I’ve been involved in it. But you don’t have to take it out on me.”

“I didn’t mean to be snide,” she said, a little snidely. “I was making a serious offer of my body. Having nothing better to offer.”

“Rina, come off it.”

“I’m not attractive enough, is that what you mean?”

“You’re talking nonsense. I don’t blame you. You’ve had a bad scare.”

She sulked for a while, looking down at the Chinese Wall of mountains we were crossing. Finally she said in a chastened tone: “You’re perfectly right. I was scared, really scared, for the first time in my life. It does funny things to a girl. It made me feel – well, almost like a whore – as though I wasn’t worth anything to myself.”

“That’s the way the jerks want you to feel. If everybody felt like a zombie, we’d all be on the same level. And the jerks could get away with the things jerks want to get away with. They’re not, though. Jerkiness isn’t as respectable as it used to be, not even in L.A. Which is why they had to build Vegas.”

She didn’t smile. “Is it such a terrible place?”

“It depends on who you pick for your playmates. You picked the worst ones you could find.”

“I didn’t pick them, and they’re not my playmates. They never were. I despise them. I warned Hester years ago that Lance was poison for her. And I told Carl Stern what I thought of him to his face.”

“When was this? Last night?”

“Several weeks ago. I went out on a double date with Lance and Hester. Perhaps it was a foolish thing to do, but I wanted to find out what was going on. Hester brought Carl Stern for me, can you imagine? He’s supposed to be a millionaire, and Hester always believed that money was the important thing. She couldn’t see, even at that late date, why I wouldn’t play up to Stern.