Дэвид Балдаччи - A Gambling Man

Archer walked into the tiny bedroom and noted that the bed was made, but the room was messy with clothes and shoes everywhere. He found a pen in the nightstand next to the Gideon Bible and had turned to leave when Callahan filled the doorway like a tsunami coming right for him. Her face was drained of all color and she looked like she might be sick.

“What is it?” he asked sharply.

She stepped aside and pointed to her left with one hand while holding her stomach with the other. “In there,” she said, her voice brimming with dread.

Archer raced past her and into the kitchen.

The room was illuminated by a single overhead bulb. But Archer could see enough.

Ruby Fraser was all dressed up, probably for her big number tonight. She was sitting in a chair that was pushed back against the wall. Her head was slightly tilted back, her long legs splayed out in front of her, and the woman’s wide eyes were full upon Archer. Still, she could not see him.

Ruby Fraser could no longer see anything.

He gingerly stepped forward and bent down so he could ascertain more closely what had killed her. It wasn’t difficult. Her throat had been cut so brutally that he could glimpse white bone through the fresh opening. The cut disappeared around both sides of her neck and ran along the back to nearly her spine. Another six inches and she would have lost her head entirely.

The woman had not been killed here. There was no blood on the floor, table or walls, though the front of her dress was coated with it, transforming white to crimson.

He felt her wrist. It was ice cold. He checked his watch. It was ten to twelve. If she had done her show at ten, and it had taken a half hour or so, how could she be killed, moved, and cold as ice barely an hour or so later? He lifted her arm. It moved freely. He replaced it exactly where it was.

“Don’t do that, Archer. Don’t touch her, it’s... not right.”

He turned to see Callahan staring dully at the dead woman from the doorway.

“She was really pretty,” said Callahan in a hushed voice. “And really young.”

“Yeah, she was,” said Archer, taking a few steps back.

“Poor kid. Who could have done this?”

“What I want to know is how could somebody move a dead body in here and nobody see it. The lack of blood shows she was killed somewhere else.”

Callahan still looked like she might be sick. “What do we do now? Call the cops?”

“There’s a phone booth right off the front entrance. I’ll make the call from there.”

“Will you tell the police who you are?”

“My morals say yes, my survival instinct says no.”

“I always go with survival.”

“Let’s blow this joint before somebody sees us.”

As they turned to leave, Archer looked back at Fraser and said quietly, “I’m sorry, Ruby. Nobody deserves to go out like that.”

Before they left, Archer took out a handkerchief and rubbed at all the places they had touched, including the doorknobs.

“What are you doing?” asked Callahan.

“Getting rid of our fingerprints.”

“What for?”

“Because in the state of California they can send you to the gas chamber, that’s what for.”

Archer stepped into the phone booth, dropped in a coin, covered the receiver with his handkerchief, and dialed in the number for the police he’d found in the phone book dangling from a chain on the booth’s inner wall. When the voice came on the line, Archer told the person about the body at Midnight Moods, giving the room location. He hung up, put his handkerchief away, and stepped out, pale and aching from his earlier beating.

Callahan was standing next to the booth and watching him carefully. “Well?”

“A radio patrol car should be here shortly.”

“And where will we be? Long gone from here, I hope.”

“Give me a minute. I want to check something.”

“What?”

“Something that’s bugging me timing wise.”

They found Mabel Dawson in her office. She looked up from her desk where she was writing something on a piece of paper.

“I don’t have the contract ready yet, Archer. I’m talking to the lawyer tomorrow, so just hold your horses. And we don’t advance money on any contract, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No, it wasn’t that. I wanted to speak with Ruby Fraser. Do you know where she might be? I’ve been looking around but no one’s seen her.”

She put her pen down and frowned. “Now I’m really starting to get worried. She didn’t turn up for her show tonight.”

“She didn’t?”

“You know she didn’t.”

He shot Callahan a glance. “How would I know that?” said Archer.

Dawson rubbed her forehead. “Oh, I’m sorry, I guess you wouldn’t know. Well, it was because Liberty took Ruby’s slot. That’s why I had her go out onstage tonight. I mean, why’d you think I’d do something like that?”

“Wait a minute, you mean to tell me that Liberty sang in place of Ruby?”

“Yes. It was the only thing I could think of. I didn’t have anybody else worth anything to stand in for her. Ruby has good pipes, but nothing like Liberty, so I told Liberty to go out onstage to Michael, he’s the pianist, and find a song she knew. And that’s what she did.”

“I thought you were just putting me on the spot to test me,” said Callahan.

“Well, maybe there was a little bit of that, but the main thing was I needed a singer to cover for Ruby.”

“Did anyone check her room?” asked Archer slowly as he inwardly cringed at the mention of Fraser’s “pipes.”

“Yeah. I did before I made the decision to use Liberty.”

“What time?”

“I got a message from the stage manager right after Liberty finished her audition that Ruby hadn’t turned up for her warmup. So I went looking for her, starting with her room. The door was locked but I have a key. I thought maybe she was sick or had overslept or something. I went in. But there was no one there.”

Archer glanced at Callahan once more. “And no one had seen her?”

“No. I thought she might have gone off somewhere with someone and left me in the lurch.”

“Why would you think that?” asked Archer in a sharp tone.

Dawson looked at him warily. “No reason, Archer.”

“Come on, Mabel, we’re all friends here.”

“Ruby liked men.”

“Any men in particular?”

“Rich men,” said Dawson.

“Okay, I guess that narrows it down. Any rich man in particular?”

“You’re the gumshoe, I’ll let you figure that out.” She sat back, a look of clarity spreading over her features. “So that’s why you were out earlier talking to her. It was about some man she might be seeing.”

“It might have been. So what’s the deal with Sawyer Armstrong?”

She eyed his damaged face and then ran her gaze over his stiffened posture. “Maybe I should be asking you the same thing.”

“I understand he built this place.”

“Before the war started.”

“Is Armstrong married?”

“What do you care?”

“I’m just trying to get some information. That’s what private detectives do.”

“His wife, Eleanor, died in a plane crash a couple years ago.”

“Do you know Beth Kemper or her husband?”

She laughed. “I don’t move in those sorts of exalted circles.”

“I understand that Douglas Kemper comes here to play cards. And maybe for other things?”

“Maybe you understand that. I don’t.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m not getting involved. If you have any other questions, ask somebody else.”

“Okay. Well, if Ruby turns up, let her know that I want to talk to her.”