Sue Grafton - S is for Silence

“Did you work every night?”

“I’d take a day off now and then, but I was pretty much the man in charge. The guy who spelled me, if I was sick or out of town, died a long time ago. Who else have you talked to?”

I rattled off the list of names and watched him nod in agreement.

“Sounds right. None of them could help?”

“That remains to be seen. I’m collecting bits and pieces, but I have no idea if anything I’ve picked up is relevant. Do you remember your reaction when you heard she was gone?”

“I wasn’t surprised. I can tell you that.”

“Were you suspicious of anyone?”

“Besides Foley? No.”

“You don’t know of anyone she might have run off with?”

He shook his head.

“Sergeant Schaefer tells me the locals were all present and accounted for. He says the rumors about Violet having a lover were all traceable to Foley, so if he did something to her, he’d provided himself a smoke screen.”

The waitress reappeared with his breakfast: waffles, fried eggs, link sausage, a side of hash browns, and a second side, of grits with a pat of melting butter.

“Makes a certain amount of sense, assuming Foley’s smart enough, which I tend to doubt.”

“At the time, did you think he might have killed her?”

“It crossed my mind. I know he decked her on more than one occasion, but it was usually behind closed doors. None of us would tolerate his abusing her in public.”

“People tell me the two of them got into wrangles all the time at the Moon.”

“Only for as long as it took me to get out from behind the bar with my baseball bat. I’d have been happy to clobber Foley if he put up resistance. He was usually cooperative if I made matters plain.”

“Was she abusive as well?”

“She went after him sometimes, but she was such a tiny thing she couldn’t do much harm. They’d get into it like two dogs, snarling and snapping. I’d go out there and separate them, put her on one side of the room and him on the other.”

“Did you ever hear her talk about leaving him?”

“Now and then,” he replied. “You know, she’d be crying and complaining, feeling sorry for herself. But it’s like I told her, I’m a bartender, not a damn marriage counselor. I did what I could, but it didn’t amount to much. Problem was, they were so used to brawling that as soon as it was over, they went about their business like nothing had gone on. Next thing you know they’d be at it again. I’d have thrown ‘em both out for good, but I felt as long as they were in the Moon, at least I could keep an eye on them and intervene if necessary.”

“Did they fight about the same thing or was it different every time?”

“Usually the same. She’d be flirting with some guy and Foley would take offense.”

“Who, though?”

“Who’d she flirt with? Any guy in range.”

“What about Jake Ottweiler?”

“I’ll correct myself. Not him. The man was married and his wife was on her deathbed.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think Violet made many subtle moral distinctions.”

“She didn’t. I saw her throw herself at Tom Padgett and he was married. There was also a fellow who ran a little plumbing concern. Violet was all over him one night. Must have scared the hell out of him because he never came back.”

“Did she ever flirt with you?”

“Sure, if I was the last guy left in the bar.”

“I guess there’s no point in asking if you succumbed to her charms.”

“I wasn’t tempted. Maybe I saw too much and the idea lost its appeal. I liked her, but not that way. She was too messed up, but it wasn’t anything I could change. She was what she was, her and Foley both. Tell you one thing about him: he hasn’t stepped a foot in the Moon since the day she disappeared.”

“At what point did you buy the place?”

“Fall of 1953. Before that it was owned by a couple of guys from Santa Maria. I was the one who managed everything-kept the books, did the ordering, saw the bathrooms were clean.”

“How’d you end up buying it?”

“After Mary Hairl died that August, Jake was at loose ends. He’d had a series of jobs, but none he’d been happy with. He figured it was time for a change, so when he heard the Moon was for sale, he asked if I’d go into partnership with him in buying the place. I had a couple thousand dollars in the bank so I tossed that in the pot. I had years of experience, and he knew he could trust me not to skim the till.”

“It’s been a good deal for both of you?”

“The best.”

“Sorry to keep harping on this point, but do you have any idea who Violet might have been involved with? I’m really at a loss.”

“I probably already said more than I should. Business I’m in, I don’t look, I don’t ask, and I don’t want to know. Anything I do know, I don’t repeat.”

“Even thirty-four years later?”

“Especially thirty-four years later. What purpose would it serve?”

“None, I suppose.”

“Mind if I offer you a word of advice?”

“Why not? I may not take it, but I’m always willing to listen.”

“Something to keep in mind: This is a small community. We look after each other. Somebody like you comes scratching around, nosing in our business, that doesn’t sit well.”

“No one’s objected so far.”

“Not to your face. We’re too polite for that, but I’ve heard grumbles.”

“Of what sort?”

“Understand, this is not coming from me. I’m repeating what I heard.”

“I won’t hold you accountable. What’s the rest of it?”

“If Violet hasn’t been found so far, what makes you think you’re going to get anywhere? Seems nervy to some.”

“It takes a certain amount of nerve to do anything in life,” I said. “This is a fishing expedition. I may not get a bite and in that case, I’m gone.”

“You think if one of us knew where she was, we’d tell you after all these years?”

“I guess that would depend on why she left and how protective you felt. Liza Mellincamp believes she’s out there somewhere. She claims she doesn’t know where, but she sure doesn’t want to be responsible for Violet being exposed.”

“Suppose it’s true,” he said. “Suppose she left town like a lot of people think. Suppose she’s made herself a whole new life? Why track her down? Believe me, she’s suffered enough. If she managed to escape, then more power to her.”

“Daisy hired me to do this. If people have a problem, tell ‘em they should take it up with her. My personal opinion? She’s entitled to any information I can find.”

“Assuming you come up with anything.”

“Right, but you know what? The years work on all of us. Secrets are a burden. If someone’s teetering on the brink, all it takes is a nudge, which is one of my jobs.”

He pushed his plate back and took out a pack of cigarettes. I watched him light up, extinguishing the match with a puff of smoke. He kept his cigarette in one corner of his mouth, squinting against the smoke as he leaned to his left and extracted a money clip from his pants pocket. He peeled off a ten and put it by his plate. “Well, I wish you luck. Meantime, I got business to take care of.”

“One more quick question: you think she’s dead or al ive?”

“I really wouldn’t care to say. Happy travels.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as he was out the door, I took out my index cards and scribbled down as much of the conversation as I could capture off the top of my head. I glanced at my watch. 7:45. With luck, I could get a call through to Daisy and catch her before she went to work. I grabbed my shoulder bag and moved through the dwindling crowd.

I walked back to my room, intending to do a final quick walk-through before I checked out. I slowed as I approached. My door was ajar. I stopped in my tracks. Maybe the motel maid was in there cleaning the room. I moved forward with caution and used the tip of my finger to push the door open to the full. I did a slow visual survey and then stepped inside. Everything was just as I’d left it, at least to all appearances. I had no luggage, so if someone had broken in, there was nothing to search. The bed was still rumpled, covers thrown aside. In the bathroom, my damp towel was where I’d placed it earlier, over the rim of the tub.