Evan Hunter - Nobody Knew They Were There

“That’s correct”

“It would seem to us that someone of your expertise should be able to elude a follower.”

“This particular follower was very persistent”

“Did he trail you here this morning, Mr. Sachs?”

“No, he did not”

“Would you like to know why he did not, Mr. Sachs?” She pauses. I blink at her. I am suddenly apprehensive. “He did not follow you this morning, Mr. Sachs, because I asked him not to.” She pauses again. “David Hollis is working for us, Mr. Sachs.”

I glance at Sara. Did she know this? She must have known this. And what about Raines? In the arboretum two days ago, he professed having no knowledge of my follower. Was he lying then? Or has he only recently been let in on Hester’s plans?

The silence lengthens.

“Nothing to say, Mr. Sachs?” Hester asks.

“You seem to be doing all the talking, Hester.”

“Yes, and now it’s your turn. I am going to ask you some direct questions, Mr. Sachs, and I would like some direct answers. Are you ready?”

“Why’d you have me followed, Hester?”

“We shall come to that.”

“Let’s come to it right now.”

“I would prefer not.”

“That’s too damn…”

“Mr. Sachs,” Raines interrupts. His voice is mild and deadly. “Let Hester proceed in her own way, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you ready, Mr. Sachs?” Hester asks again. I do not answer. “First question: Have you ever killed a man?”

“Yes,” I answer. I look at Sara. Her eyes are full upon me. She is writing steadily, but she is not watching the pad.

“When and where?” Hester asks.

“That’s none of your business.”

“On the contrary, it is very much our business,” Hester says. “Please tell us when and where you killed a man. If ever.”

“I killed a man in Macy’s window on Easter morning in 1959 at…”

“Please don’t be facetious,” Raines says.

“I don’t have to answer any questions that may put me in future jeopardy,” I say. “I don’t know any of you that well.”

“Perhaps you’d like to tell us whether or not you have ever destroyed a bridge, Mr. Sachs?” Hester says.

“I have.”

“When and where?”

“Again…”

“Again, you refuse to answer.”

“ Do you refuse to answer?” Raines asks.

“I do.”

“You see,” Hester says mildly, “it is our contention that you have never killed a man, never destroyed a bridge, never in fact committed any such acts of violence in your life. That is our contention, Mr. Sachs.”

The room is silent again.

I am thinking desperately and furiously. Sara is watching me. The fire crackles and sputters. Outside one of the sliding glass doors, a snow-laden branch falls silently to the ground.

“I don’t have to produce credentials,” I say at last “If you have any doubts, call Mr. Eisler.”

“We already called Mr. Eisler,” Hester says. “Late Friday afternoon.”

“I’m sure he vouched for me.”

“He did no such thing. It seems that Mr. Eisler is out of town. We spoke to a girl named Bernice.” She pauses. “Bernice informed us that Mr. Eisler is in Salt Lake City. I left a message for him to call me here. He has not yet called.”

“Then call him in Salt Lake City.”

‘I’m afraid we can’t do that”

“Why not?”

“Because Mr. Eisler is not in Salt Lake City.”

“You just said…”

“He’s here.”

“Here? In this town?”

“In this room,” Hester says.

The room is suddenly very still. I look from one face to the next, searching. They are watching me expectantly. Idiotically, I can think of nothing to say.

“You are Samuel Eisler, are you not?” Raines asks.

I say nothing. I keep staring at them. For the first time in my life, my mind is a complete blank. White. Like a field of snow.

“I thought I recognized your voice the moment we met,” Hester says, “but I couldn’t be sure, I had only heard it on the telephone before then. When Davey found those reports….”

And now I speak, now I am galvanized into tardy reaction, alibi and excuse, now the words come tumbling from my mouth, too late. “Mr. Eisler gave me those reports. I wouldn’t take the job unless I knew all there was to…”

“Did Mr. Eisler also give you a sheaf of his stationery?”

“Yes. I was to use it if it became necessary to contact him. He told me…”

“Please?” Hester says sharply. “We monitored your last phone call to New York.”

“What?”

“Sara knows the desk clerk at your hotel quite well.”

I look at Sara and she turns away.

“At five minutes to six last night, you called Mr. Eugene Levine at his home. He is, as you know, a partner in the law firm of Eisler, Barton, Landau and Levine. During the conversation, he constantly called you ‘Sam,’ and references were made to a son named David and a wife named Abby. There were oblique references to another son as well.” Hester pauses. “You are Samuel Eisler, attorney at law…”

“I am Arthur Sachs, hired…”

“Please, Mr. Eisler. As an attorney, I’m sure you’ve never asked a question in court without being reasonably certain of the answer beforehand. We’re certain now. You are Samuel Eisler, and we know it”

“What do I have to do to convince.?”

“ Did Eugene Levine call you ‘Sam’ or did he not?”

“He did. But that was prearranged, too. In case the need arose to contact each other, we…”

“Do you have a son named David?”

“Of course not. That’s all part of the cover. We…”

“Or a wife named Abigail?”

“Again…”

“Again, you’re lying. We have a transcript of the entire conversation, Mr. Eisler! Who was the other son you referred to?”

“That was a code. It meant…”

“Was it a boy named Adam Gregory Eisler who was killed in the war last spring?”

I turn away from her and look into the fire.

“Was it?”

“Yes,” I answer. My voice is inaudible, I realize.

“Yes or no?” Raines says.

“Yes. It was Adam. Yes.”

“And do you admit you’re Samuel Eisler?” Raines asks.

“Yes.”

The room is silent

“You have done us a great disservice, Mr. Eisler.”

“You’ve done me a greater one.”

“Oh?”

“By letting me in on your plot. I would never have come here on my own, would never have dreamt of doing this. The responsibility…”

“We hired an assassin. Instead, you’ve given us…”

“I've given you an assassin. I’m here to kill him, and I will”

“Please, please,” Hester says. “You're worthless.”

“Not quite. Tm willing to risk my life.”

“Your life is of no concern to us.”

“That would seem apparent,” I tell her. “How many other people have you let in on your damn plot? You’ve got one boy following me and another one listening to my phone calls! Who else is involved, can you tell me that?”

“You're the one with all the dossiers,” Hester says. “You tell us.”

“I’ll tell you this, Hester! You’d better yank that boy off the switchboard right now. So far he only knows I’m Sam Eisler. That’s all I want him to know.”

“There’s no further need for monitoring your calls. Perhaps you don’t quite understand, Mr. Eisler. We want you to leave, we no longer require your services. When we contacted you in New York, you promised us a skilled assassin. As it turns out…”

“A skilled assassin is only someone with murder in his heart. I have that, Hester. I have that in abundance.”