Roger Torrey - 42 Days For Murder

The talk didn’t fool either of us. He knew and I knew that he was as crazy about her as ever and that the only reason he was agreeing to a settlement was because she wanted it. I felt sorry for the poor duck... a man in love is always a pitiful thing.

Crandall’s office was just as big and pretty as it had been before. Only this time, instead of the dignified looking young punk who’d done the honors in the front office, we met the two guards who’d raised hell with us when we’d crashed Crandall’s house. The one called Barney opened the door for us and grinned at me and said:

“Yowsuh! He’s waiting for you.”

Wendel said: “I was slightly delayed.”

I said: “There’s a couple more coming in a minute. His lawyer and his friend.”

“I’ll send ’em in.”

There was a water cooler over in the corner of the room and I took one of the paper cups that came along with the rig and took myself a drink. Wendel watched me with an impatient expression and I said:

“Okey! In we go. To beard the lion in his den.”

“What!”

I said: “Read the classics. It goes something like ‘And darest thou then to beard the lion in his den, the Douglas in his hall? And hopest thou hence unscathed go? No! By St. Bride of Both well no! Ho, Warden, ho! Let the portcullis fall, Marmion.’ ”

He said: “Are you crazy?”

I said: “Just educated. Scott wrote it; if anybody’s crazy it was him.” And to the one called Barney: “Suppose you let us in, portey.”

He said: “What!” also, and I shook my head and told him: “You weren’t listening. You’re riding for what they gave the portcullis.”

“Hunh.”

I said: “A fall, dope. Show us in to the old marster.”

He shook his head as though I’d been talking gibberish, which I’d been. And no mistake about it. I felt that way; the show-down was coming up in the next few minutes, one way or the other, and I felt tight and tense and like babbling.

Too much nerves.

We went inside and there was Crandall, all alone. But he said to Barney: “Suppose you stay in here, Barney. The gentleman...” he nodded at me... “is inclined toward violence and I’m in no mood for it.”

I said: “I can always wait until you are in the mood. I’m a patient man.”

He grinned nastily and said: “I should think by this time Connell, that you’d have learned your lesson. Every time there’s been trouble between us your side has lost.”

I looked over at the floor by the door, where he’d fallen the time I’d smacked him, and he got red in the face. He let it go, though, and said to Wendel:

“Your wife refused to attend this little meeting, though I tried to persuade her to be present. But I hold her power of attorney, of course. I’d rather Amos Mard was here however; I understand he’s representing you.”

“He’ll be here shortly,” Wendel said.

“That’s fine, that’s fine.”

I said: “He and Joey Free are following us.”

Crandall gave me a sharp look.

Wendel said: “Now understand me, Mr. Crandall. I’m willing to sign this settlement because I believe Ruth wants this divorce. Naturally, I want to be fair with her. Your threat about that assault charge hasn’t influenced me in the slightest.”

Crandall said: “Of course not. I’m glad I was able to stop that. You understand, Mr. Wendel, a wealthy man is a target for schemes of different kinds at all times. Possibly this was something of that sort.”

“Does that mean,” I asked, “that there’ll be no assault charge filed if this settlement doesn’t go through?”

Crandall smiled his lawyer, smile. “Now Mr. Connell. Naturally I can’t hazard an opinion on that. I wouldn’t know. The girl’s father could undoubtedly press the charge anytime he saw fit.”

“Then Mr. Wendel is liable to take it on the chin, whether he signs this settlement or not?”

“I’d naturally use my influence to stop anything like that.”

I said: “That’s certainly white of you.”

The other plug-ugly brought in Amos Mard and Joey Free then. Mard nodded to Crandall and Joey beamed around at one and all and said:

“Hah! Everything friendly, I see.”

Crandall said to Mard: “I have everything drawn up, Amos. If you’d care to look over things? It’s just a form, of course.”

Mard said nothing and reached out his hand and Crandall handed him papers. He studied them for a bit, while Joey babbled about wanting to go back to the city because Reno was too rich for his blood. He stopped for breath and I said:

“It’s been pretty rich for Wendel’s blood, I’d say. Or don’t dough like this settlement count as money.”

Wendel said stiffly: “I’ll ask you not to comment on my personal affairs, Connell. I feel this matter could have been handled differently from the start and I don’t hesitate to say so.”

Joey winked at me and said: “I guess you’re sat on, old boy, old boy.”

Mard looked up then and nodded at me. I said: “I come up smiling, Joey,” and to Crandall: “D’ya mind if I get a drink of water? I ate something salty, I guess.”

I nodded toward the outside office, where the one yegg had gone and where the water cooler was, and he said:

“Certainly not, Connell. In the other room.”

Joey said to Crandall: “You ought to buy a drink, Crandall. Not water; I don’t mean water.”

Just as I got to the door Crandall said: “A very good idea, Mr. Free.”

I went outside.

The yegg was sitting in an over-stuffed chair looking at the cartoons in The Satevepost. And he didn’t look as though he knew enough to read the captions, much less understand the cartoons themselves. I waved at the cooler and said: “Drink.”

He nodded and I walked to the cooler. It was at his side, maybe five feet from him, and I got one of the trick paper cups and fiddled with it and he looked down at the magazine again. I took my gun out from under my coat and bopped him across the jaw with it. He just dropped his head down on the magazine without a sound. I opened the door into the hall, very quietly, didn’t see anything of either Kirby or Macintosh, and whistled. They came around the bend in the hall and up to me and I saw Macintosh had a nice start toward a black eye and more scratches on his face than I had. I whispered: “Where’s the bitch?”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and said: “She doesn’t want to talk to her husband. She says so. She fights against it even. D’ya want her? The kid’s looking after her so we can help out if it’s needed.”

I said: “Everything is okey in the outside office. Get ready to come in when I sing out. Bring her in with you.”

He said: “All right,” and I ducked back inside the inner office again. Barney looked at me suspiciously and Crandall nodded at the bottle and glasses he had set out on the table and said: “Drink, Connell?”

I said: “I just had one.”

Barney said: “And it took you long enough, too.”

“I was thirsty.”

“You must’ve been.”

He stood and started toward the door and Crandall said sharply: “Sit down, Barney! Everything is all right.”

Barney sat down, glowering at me while he did.

Mard said, slowly and carefully: “Now again, Mr. Wendel, I’ll advise you against signing any ridiculous settlement like this. I advise you to start a counter-suit and fight this.”

Joey wandered over to the desk and tipped the bottle over one of the glasses. He turned with the glass in his hand and said to Wendel: “It’s your affair; Tod. Naturally, I hate to see you and Ruth having trouble; I like you both. But God knows you’ve tried for a reconciliation and that’s about all you can do.”