Эд Макбейн: Bread

“Recognize any of these people?” he asked Barbara.

“Yeah, sure I do,” Barbara said. “What happened to the big redheaded cop? How come he didn’t come back with these?”

“Won’t we do?” Ollie said, and grinned.

“Which of them do you recognize?” Carella asked.

“You fellows want a beer?” Barbara said.

“No, thanks,” Carella said.

“I wouldn’t mind one,” Ollie said, and watched Barbara’s behind when she rose and walked to the refrigerator. He winked at Carella and grinned again.

Barbara came back to the table, set the beer before Ollie, and then looked down at the pictures. “This is the girl Frank shacked up with those two nights,” she said, and pointed to the picture of Elizabeth Benjamin.

“And the others?” Carella said.

“Two of those men came to see Frank at the end of July.”

“Which ones?” Carella asked.

“This one and this one,” Barbara said, her forefinger tapping first Charlie Harrod’s head and then Robinson Worthy’s.

“Recognize the other man in that picture?” Carella asked.

“This one?” she asked. She lifted the picture Ollie had taken, and peered at Oscar Hemmings. “No,” she said. “Never saw him here. That doesn’t mean he’s never been here, it just means I never saw him.”

“Okay. How about this man?” Carella asked, and shoved the picture of Alfred Allen Chase across the table.

“Nope, never saw him either,” Barbara said, and turned to Ollie and smiled. “How’s the beer?” she asked.

“Delicious,” Ollie said. “Just delicious, m’little chickadee,” and Barbara giggled girlishly.

In the car riding uptown to the squadroom, Carella said, “Worthy and Harrod. They’re definitely the ones who made contact with Reardon, which means Diamondback Development burned out Grimm.”

“Right,” Ollie said. “I think that lady can be banged, you know that?”

“I don’t get it,” Carella said.

“You know what she said to me?”

“What?” Carella asked absently.

“She said her bedroom is air-conditioned. I tell you that lady can be banged, Carella.”

“It was Rosalie Waggener who went to Bremen, right?” Carella said. “And she’s Hemmings’s girlfriend, right?”

“Right,” Ollie said. “Yep, I think that lady can very definitely be banged.”

“Rosalie flew to Bremen on the day before Grimm’s packer acknowledged receipt of payment. Grimm’s check couldn’t have got there by then, so somebody must’ve made payment in person. And that had to be Rosalie.”

“I think I’ll give that lady a call tonight.”

“But what’s the connection, Ollie? Why the hell would Hemmings’s girl be paying Grimm’s bills while Hemmings’s company is planning to burn down Grimm’s warehouse? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense at all.”

It made even less sense when they got back to the squadroom. Hawes was waiting for them there, and he reported that Rosalie Waggener had spent almost an hour in an apartment on Marlowe Avenue before heading back to Isola again.

The mailbox in the Marlowe Avenue lobby had carried a plate with the name Alfred Allen Chase engraved on it.

They picked up Rosalie Waggener at 4:00 that afternoon and took her to the squadroom. They told her they were not charging her with anything, but that they had reasonable grounds to believe she had information pertinent to their investigation, and would appreciate her answering a few questions. Rosalie said she would answer any questions they wanted to ask, but not without a lawyer present. They explained again that she was not being charged with anything, and when she insisted on a lawyer, they explained that they could force her to testify before a grand jury, but they did not want to go to all that trouble since she was not being charged with anything.

Reluctantly, Rosalie agreed to answer their questions.

“According to your passport,” Carella said, “you entered West Germany through the Bremen airport on July twenty-fifth, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Rosalie said.

“And you returned to the United States on July twenty-seventh, is that also correct?”

“Yes,” Rosalie said.

“You told us you were visiting your relatives in Zeven.”

“That’s right.”

“We want to know the names, addresses, and telephone numbers of your relatives in Zeven,” Carella said.

“Why?”

“Because we’re going to check with the German police to make sure they exist.”

“They exist,” Rosalie said.

“Then give us their names.”

“I don’t have to.”

“That’s right, you don’t have to. Not here, you don’t. Before a grand jury, you do. It’s up to you.”

“Will the police call them? The German police?”

“Yes, that’s what we’ll request.”

“Why?”

“To make sure you were with them.”

“I was.”

“Then what are their names?”

“They’re very old people. I don’t want them bothered by the police. Anyway, what’s this got to do with your investigation? You said I had information that might...”

“That’s right.”

“What information?”

“Do you know a man named Roger Grimm?”

“No.”

“Did you visit Bremerhaven while you were in West Germany?”

“No.”

“Are you familiar with a firm called Bachmann Speditionsfirma in Bremerhaven?”

“No.”

“Why’d you go see Alfred Chase this afternoon?”

“Who said I...?”

“I followed you there,” Hawes said. “5361 Marlowe Avenue. Chase is in Apartment 45.”

“Did you go there or not?” Ollie asked.

“I went there.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Chase had some correspondence he wanted to answer. I told you, I do part-time secretarial work for...”

“Why didn’t you answer it at the office?”

“The office is closed on Saturdays.”

“I was there this morning,” Ollie said. “It was open.”

“Well, I guess Mr. Chase didn’t feel like going in today. I’m not the boss, you know. If they ask me to go up to Riverhead, I go.” Rosalie shrugged. “I’m not the boss.”

“Who is the boss?”

“They’re three partners.”

“I thought Hemmings was your boyfriend.”

“He is. But I work for the company. That has nothing to do with it. Oscar has nothing to do with it. I mean, if one of the bosses asks me to do something, I have to do it. It’s a job. If your boss asks you to do something, you do it, don’t you?”

“I’m not engaged to my boss,” Ollie said dryly.

“All I’m trying to say is it’s a job like any other job. I do what they ask me to do.”

“What do they ask you to do? Besides taking dictation and typing letters?”

“Secretarial work. All kinds of secretarial work.”

“Did they ask you to go to Germany?”

“No, I went there to visit my relatives.”

“What are their names?” Carella asked again.

“I’ll give you their names if you promise not to bother them.”

“I can’t promise that. I intend to place a transatlantic call the minute you give me the information.”

“Why? What the hell’s so important about my relatives?”

“We’re trying to find out why you went to Germany, Miss Waggener.”

“Did Diamondback Development send you there?”

“No.”

“Did Roger Grimm?”

“I never heard of Roger Grimm.”

“Did you take money to Germany?”

“Money? What do you mean? Of course, I took money.”

“How much?”

“Enough for expenses. In traveler’s checks.”

“How much?”

“I forget. A little more than a thousand, I think.”