Authors: Dorothy B. Hughes
Kathie spoke softly, "No, I don't believe I will go. Not unless Kew goes too."
Kew said even more softly, "Kew isn't going." He made a mistake then; he lunged at Pembrooke. The scream in Griselda's throat was stifled as the major's fist crumpled him to the floor.
The major had removed his mask. There was a gun in his hand. "I have no time for further discussion. You two will precede me. I am an excellent shot." Kathie's face was unbelieving. She opened her mouth, closed it when he ordered, "Come.”
Griselda began, "But Kew—"
"You need not worry about him." The gun pointed. It was Pembrooke's face then that turned stark with amazement. The sharp crack, the clatter of his weapon from his fingers, the red stuff spurting from his limp hand—it happened too quickly for understanding. Only Griselda turned her head unsurprised to the source of the bullet. The pixie was in the bedroom doorway.
He was croaking, "I'm an excellent shot myself, see? I don't mind shooting to kill neither. But Garth don't want you killed yet, Major Pembrooke. He wants to question you. And Con would like to beat you to a pulp." He was wet to the knees but his gun hand was steady. "You girls can take it easy but don't move. I don't want nobody in my way. Mrs. Satterlee, maybe you ought to hand me that gun of the major's. Just in case his Jap army heard the shooting and figures on investigating. Probably won't. Probably just think he's had a little trouble like always."
Kathie said, "May I sit down?" She did in the nearest chair. She looked as if she had never been so near reality.
Griselda heard the crunch in the kitchen. Her voice shook. "Someone's coming—there—"
"Probably Vinnie," Chang said. But he protected himself behind the bedroom door. "That you, Vinnie?"
"Yeah." He slouched into the doorway. "Looks like you had a little trouble."
"No trouble at all. Can you get some assistance up here?"
"I already called them. When I saw that car out front. That's why I'm late getting here."
Griselda asked, "Chang, have you been here all the time?" He hadn't been. She'd looked. But he'd been a second-story man; swinging from bay window to bedroom window would be nothing to him.
"Ever since you moved the lamp, Mrs. Satterlee. When Con saw that he figured you wanted help so he sent me over. I couldn't understand why till the major came. You knew he was coming."
She shook her head. It seemed long ago that she had assumed Kew a murderer. She knew better now. Circumstances alone couldn't point guilt. Character had to be counted and he had proved himself tonight. And then she looked at Chang wondering. "Con saw me put the light in the window? But—"
Vinnie pointed. "The Cap'n owns these cottages, ma'am. He's kind of in the real-estate business on the side. Barjon Garth rented the both of them early this summer."
Chang made it plain. "Con's been hiding out over there, Mrs. Satterlee. My niece came down to do for him. She was scared the night you went over; she didn't know who you were; that's why she wouldn't talk to you. It was before me and Con moved in." He cleared his throat. "Nobody'd ever suspect Luanda and that husband of hers of harboring. That way Con could keep an eye on you."
He was that near all along. She needn't have feared. He himself had seen Kew move in. And all that ridiculous drive around just to confuse her, but, she admitted, rightly so. If she'd known he was near, despite all good intentions, she couldn't have helped but seek his aid prematurely, lead the major directly to him before he was ready.
"Garth thought they'd make good headquarters," Vinnie said. "Thought it might mix some folks up having one of them open, with Con setting in it; and the other one closed, for emergencies. They've got the sweetest little shortwave set over there that you ever saw." His gum cracked. "But Garth should of told Pa sooner who Con was."
It was Con at last, Captain Thusby peglegging along in the rear. Now she could relax. Now nothing could go wrong.
Con said, "Major Pembrooke, there are a few questions Barjon Garth wants to ask you in the name of the United States government. There's a car waiting." In the doorway stood an officer.
Albert George moved without words. His mouth was clenched. His bloody hand dripped at his side. Griselda took a deep breath but she didn't move.
She was too weak. "Con, you're home at last—" and then she stopped. It wasn't over. That was in Con's eyes. Vinnie was still standing there and Captain Thusby was sitting down in the chair Major Pembrooke had vacated. Chang was attempting to revive Kew but he hadn't laid aside his gun.
She realized sharply. Major Pembrooke was a spy but he wasn't the murderer. No one had said anything yet about who was the murderer.
CHAPTER 9
Kew had come to. Con was asking. "Where is Dare?" His voice was careless. He stood by the music cabinet. He was setting out bottles and glasses but he hadn't mixed drinks yet.
Kew spoke anxiously, "Hasn't she been with you?" and then he turned to Kathie, "When did you see her?"
"Not for hours." She raised her face as a flower would. "That's why I came over here, Kew. She hasn't been at the apartment for hours. She left almost as soon as we got there. She said she'd send you to keep me company but you didn't come." She was reproachful. She took the best chair.
Kew turned on Con then. "What were her orders? What did you tell her to do?"
"You knew she was working for me?" The two men measured each other.
"She didn't have to tell me. You've had her on Pembrooke." He took two glasses from Con. "I know Dare and I know how you two work together. But where is she? Where should she be?"
Con said. "Vinnie and Chang don't drink. Cap'n, what about you?"
He held out three horizontal fingers. "And none of that fizz water spoiling the taste."
Con poured one straight, passed it across. He moved to the couch but he didn't sit by Griselda. He said, "I don't know where Dare is. She was supposed to be guarding Kathie tonight"—Kathie jumped—"so Albert George wouldn't nab her. She must have thought of something more urgent." He turned directly to Kew. "You knew Shelley Huffaker. You lied about that."
He admitted it. "Yes, I lied about that."
"Why?"
"To save my own skin." He didn't glance at anyone. "I knew her, Con. I knew everyone who could get information for me on Pan-Pacific. I came to California to break that yarn. I came here blown up on my tuppenny Washington importance. That's gone, Con."
Kathie's face was wide open.
"I was the man Shelley was to meet at the Bamboo Bar. We did meet. But Pembrooke interrupted. She told me aside to join her at Saam's Seafood later, when I got rid of him. Then you stepped in. After I took Griselda home I went out to this Saam's. I waited until after one o'clock but she didn't come."
Kathie whispered, "I knew you were the one she was looking for that night."
Captain Thusby asked, "Why not tell anyone, Brent? You had an alibi."
"No. I didn't wait inside. When I saw she wasn't there I went out and sat in the car. I didn't like the fish."
Con lit a cigarette. "You might as well spill it all, Kew."
"Yes." He looked at his hands. "Yes. I don't know if you'll believe me." He looked directly at Con. "You must believe me."
Griselda put her hand on his arm, leaned across him. "Yes, Con," she said. "You must believe him. It's true." A man who'd offered himself as sacrifice for her, and for his country as he had tonight, had spoken truth.
Kew said, "Thanks, darling. .She knows part of it, Con. I tried to tell her so she could relay it, when I thought you'd find me on a slab. I wanted you to know."
"He saved my life. Con."
Con's face wasn't legible. He repeated without inflection, "Spill it."
Griselda relaxed and then she stiffened. Kathie was facing them as an audience watching a rehearsal. There were jealous eyes and a thinned mouth. She was still guessing wrong about Kew and Griselda.
Kew began, "I met Shelley Huffaker in Hollywood."
He was interrupted. The door was flung open and all of them came to their feet with sick horror wincing their faces. It couldn't be Walker Travis swaying there, his pajamas ribboned, his bare feet grinding dirt and blood into the carpet. The deviled eyes in his drawn face were not human. He saw Kathie, only Kathie. His voice was rickety, "So you're here."
Con asked, "What happened, old man?" and Kathie cried brokenly, "Walker."
She started to him and then she faded back in terror. He spoke hoarsely, "Stay where you are. Don't come any nearer. I might kill you. The way you tried to kill me. The way you—" Con was at his side as he slumped.
Kathie wept, "He's delirious." Vinnie stood behind her patting her shoulder.
Kew helped Con lead the lieutenant to the couch. Captain Thusby was pouring a good-sized straight one. Only Griselda was watching Kathie, watching her out of thoughtful eyes, listening to her words, "He doesn't know what he's saying. He isn't himself. Oh, Walker, Walker." Her grief wasn't real. She was spacing it and she was peering behind her fingers. And then she noticed Griselda. When their eyes met, Griselda knew.
She clutched Kew's arm. "Dare!" She shook him. "Why isn't Dare here? Kathie did try to kill Walker. She tried to kill me tonight."
She had been right in her fear on the roof! Had Kathie come here tonight not to find Kew but to kill Griselda? To try again? She shuddered. "She's killed Dare!"
Con and Kew heard. They turned to look at Kathie. She couldn't get out of the chair because Vinnie's hand was on her shoulder. She shrank back further and her beautiful face wasn't beautiful.
Griselda wasn't sane herself at that, moment. She wanted to claw those murderous eyes. She had to hurt someone. Dare had saved her but she hadn't saved Dare. She cried it again, "Dare! What did you do to Dare?"
Travis said, "She'll be here. She went to get Kathie. Dare found me. I couldn't walk any further. She helped me." His voice wavered. Kathie was sobbing. He said, "Give me another drink, Con." He looked like a rabbit but he wasn't one. His voice was firm as he fixed it on his wife. "You killed Mannie". You told me he'd postponed our appointment. You kept it. I suppose you told him I'd meet him later. Why did you kill Mannie?"
She sobbed. "I didn't—I couldn't—"
"You could handle his boat. You've had plenty of experience with them at the beach. No one would suspect anything seeing you on the Landing. Mannie was packing a gun. He was going after Pembrooke but he wasn't taking chances." He held out his glass. His mouth wore wry scorn. "You'd be close enough to him to know about the gun, to get it. Why did you kill him?"
The sounds she was making were indistinguishable.
"Last night you meant to kill me. You thought I was asleep when you slipped back to the living room. I saw you through the door. I saw you making sure my revolver was loaded. I didn't wait for you to use it. I went out the window."
She cried in frenzy, "You're lying! You're lying about me!"
He started to her but he fell back. His eyes closed. Con said. "Can't drink on an empty stomach. Probably hasn't eaten in twenty-four hours. And he was exhausted to start with. Chang, give me the gat and you and Vinnie get him to the hospital where he can be cared for." He took the gun and slid it into his jacket pocket just as if he were as accustomed to handling them as was the too widely experienced Mr. Smithery.
Kathie wept, "Oh, Walker, Walker." But she saw Thusby scrape his chair between her and the door. She saw Con's hand casual in his pocket. She didn't move while Travis was carried out.
You could read about such women in the tabs and the pulps, women who wouldn't stop at anything to get the man they wanted. She'd tried to kill Walker because he stood in her way: Griselda, thinking she was after Kew. Dare had been safe because Kathie didn't know.
Con said, "Well, Kathie."
She lifted tear-blurred eyes. "I don't know what he was talking about. He must be crazy."
Con spoke carelessly, "You pitched Mannie overboard before there was any blood in the boat, didn't you? You didn't expect him to be washed up but you thought you'd be safe even if he were. Drowning—or a riptide— The gun was at the bottom of the Pacific. It couldn't tell tales." He hardened. "You weren't very careful about leaving your fingerprints on the wheel, were you? Maybe you thought the spray would take care of them."
She turned a frightened appeal to Kew. And Kew said slowly, "How did you know that Shelley was looking for a man that night?"
She was trapped between them. She twisted her head one way and the other but there was no escape. It was hard for her to breathe. She flung at Kew, "I suppose you knew it all along. I might have known. Playing me along and living with her." Her eyes scorched Griselda. "If I'd known that sooner…"
Kew asked as if he were interviewing her, "You don't mind killing people, do you?"
"No. I don't." She tossed her head. "I don't mind at all. Then they're out of my way."
Dare's voice was fresh. "May I intrude?" She was gay in scarlet, only faint circles under her emerald eyes gave hint of ordeal. Griselda had never thought she could feel a surge of joy at seeing Date, an alive and arrogant Dare.
Kew met her, held her. "You're all right?"
"But, of course." She extricated herself.
"Travis?"
"Taken care of," Con said.
Kathie was looking with bewilderment from Griselda to Dare, from Dare to Griselda.
Con put out a long arm, drew Griselda over close to him, "You made a mistake, Kathie. It's always been this way."
Dare drawled, "Don't play it heavy, darling," but she held to Kew's arm and now it was she looking at him as if he were wonderful.
Captain Thusby scratched ah embarrassed fuzz. "Ought I take Mrs. Travis in, do you think?"
Con said, "Maybe she'd like to tell us first why she killed Mannie."
She was sullen. "I won't tell you anything."
"I will." Dare was a crimson streak brightening the worn chair. Kew sat on the arm of it, his hand enclosing hers. "She killed Mannie because he gave her the run-around."
Kathie's face was a snarl as she sprang up. "I'm not going to stay here and listen to lies about me! They've been against me all along. Just because I don't have diamond bracelets and a big car and lots of money."