Джеймс Кейн - Rainbow’s End

She mentioned the bed, the bath, and my call to the sheriff’s office, then remembered her call to Chicago, but didn’t say anything about the brawl we had had when Mom came in with the rifle. Edgren pressed her about how much time had gone by between Shaw being killed and my phone call, and she guessed a half hour. “Long as it took to roll me into that bed, then put a blanket on me and carry me up to the bathroom, then dunk me in the tub.”

“One other thing,” said Edgren. “How did this man, this Shaw, get his gun past the metal detector? Did he mention that while you were with him on the plane?”

“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“I think everyone would.”

“Well, you work on it, mister. You won’t get it from me. If I tell you that and you tell everyone because they want to know then we start all over on this hijacking thing. How he did it was so simple anyone who has 10 dollars could do it. Yes, he mentioned it, he bragged about it. But he’s dead now, and I’m not telling you or anyone.”

That seemed to be that, and York came over to give her a pat on the cheek. Edgren asked if I had anything to add to what I’d said that morning. Then he turned to Mom who said: “I got plenty to add, to officers who I try to give some help and they treat me like a thief. But outside of that, nothing. Not at all.” Mantle cut in to say that she hadn’t been treated like a thief or any other particular way, and she said: “It’s what I’m talking about — and especially, nobody’s thanked me for the help I’ve tried to give.”

“Thanks a lot,” Edgren said.

But Knight cut it off by motioning the officers over for a huddle. That’s when Bledsoe knelt in front of Jill, beckoned to Mom, and whispered to the three of us, but with York still standing behind Jill. “I think,” he whispered, “the officers want all three of you held. That time lag after the shooting still sticks in Mantle’s mind, and that, coupled with Mrs. Howell’s acknowledged interest in the money, must set up the possibility in his mind that Dave Howell plugged him for the money while his mother and Miss Kreeger cooperated. I think that’s what they’re whispering about — and Knight is naturally reluctant to face that judge when I move to have you released on bail. But why let it come to that? I can settle the whole thing now, I’m pretty sure, in one very simple way. Now look me in the eye — all three of you — and give me a straight answer. Is there any reason, any reason at all, why this place shouldn’t be searched? And that other place, too, wherever it is?”

“No reason I know of,” I told him.

“Of course there’s not any reason!” exclaimed Mom. “What reason could there be? Do you think I’m a thief, too?”

“Well, I certainly know of no reason,” Jill told him.

He stood up at once and called over to Knight: “Marion, the officers, I suspect, still have their minds on that money — and think Howell held up his call so his mother, Miss Kreeger, or he himself, could hide it. That being the case, they want the place searched, this house and the other one, now. They’ll waive a warrant.”

“Well?” said Knight, looking first at Edgren, then at Mantle. “That does it, I think.”

“OK?” asked Bledsoe.

“All right, let’s go.”

So the two officers searched. I’d heard that a search turned your place upside down, but that’s not how it was that day. Both officers knew their stuff and went through the place fast, leaving things just as they found them, first downstairs, then up on the second floor. That surprised them plenty, because nothing was up there except for linen in the two bathroom closets. I showed them the stairway to the attic. “There’s nothing up there,” I assured them, “at least, as I think. To tell the truth, I only looked once.”

They made it quick, then we got in their car to drive to the other house — down the lane, maybe a quarter mile, to route 60, then a quarter mile south, in the direction of Marietta, then up the other lane and to the other house. I unlocked it and they shivered at how cold it was. The front rooms were empty, but I pointed to the light I kept burning, then led them through to the back rooms which were full of sacks of seed corn, seed lettuce, seed radish, and fertilizer, where another light was burning. I unlocked one of the back doors and took them out through the yard to the kitchen, where I’d had the door cut bigger to let in the big farm machinery. In one corner were gardening tools — shovels, hoes, pick, rake, and so on — which Mantle grabbed up to look at, for fresh dirt, I suspected, in case we’d buried the money somewhere. But Edgren stood in the door looking around. Suddenly he turned to me, saying: “Your father built it, you say. Where was your father from?”

“Texas,” I told him.

“That’s right, this is a Texas ranchhouse. The dining room’s in the house, and they cooked here in this kitchen. But in the old days, the slave boy that carried in the food had to whistle as he came — so he couldn’t lick the gravy off the meat. If he didn’t whistle, he was in real trouble.”

“My father mentioned that.”

Edgren seemed satisfied. If Mantle was, I couldn’t be sure.

We drove back to the other house, where they were all getting quite sociable, Mom telling Knight and Bledsoe “how messy his brains looked, scattered all over the ground,” the nurse sitting with Jill, and York in the hall talking on the phone. “Nothing.” Edgren reported to Knight. “So far, anyway,” Mantle said, slightly amending the report. But it was York who took charge of the conversation when he came out, first dropping a bill in Mom’s lap and thanking her for letting him use the phone.

“That was Mr. Morgan I was talking to,” he explained. “Russ Morgan, I mean, president of Trans-U.S.&C. He’s cleared it all up, I think, in regard to the money — as far as Jill is concerned. He’s given it to her — in appreciation for what she’s done. I suggested the idea to him, and he didn’t even let me finish. ‘She’s got it coming,’ he kept saying. ‘Oh, brother, has she.’ It’s hers if it’s ever found — and if it’s not found, she’ll still be nicely rewarded. That’s one thing about Mr. Morgan. He always does it big. So... that winds, it up, I think. Jill can’t very well be held for stealing money that’s already hers.”

That got a blank stare.

“Well?” he asked Knight.

“She’s not charged, Mr. York.”

“OK — but now she can’t be.”

“Listen, anyone can be!”

“Easy does it.”

That was Bledsoe who always wanted to shade things a little bit, “so we don’t meet these issues head-on.”

No one mentioned holding us, and Knight got up. “They should do the autopsy tomorrow,” he said, “so we’ll be holding the inquest Tuesday. All three of you — Mr. Howell, Mrs. Howell, and Miss Kreeger — will be called as witnesses, so please make yourselves available to testify.” He put on his coat and started for the door. “We ready?” asked York, turning to Jill.

“I guess so,” she told him, half turning to me.

“I’m taking her in,” I said, reaching under her knees, as I had quite a few times, putting the other arm around her and lifting her up.

“Well?” she smiled at York. “I don’t really have much choice. I have to do what Dave says.”

“All right,” he said rather grumpily.

Knight nodded to everyone, then went out the front door, got in his car, and drove off. “We’ll let you know,” said Edgren, and he and Mantle left. Bledsoe looked at his watch, gave Jill a little pat, nodded to Mom, and left. The nurse and York left. I turned to Mom and said: “Be back,” but whether she heard me or not, I didn’t know, as she didn’t look at me.