Hotline to Murder (18 page)

What he saw almost made him gasp out loud. A
girl—she was now lit well enough by the moon so that he could
tell—was standing right at the edge of a cliff. Behind her he could
see city lights—Las Vegas. It looked to him as if one step and she
would be over the edge.

Shahla leaned against his back so she could
see. She put her mouth to his ear and said, “She’s going to fall
over the cliff. And what is she wearing?”

Not much, as Tony could see now. It looked
as if she was wearing a bra and panties. She must be cold. He
spotted Paul—the angular silhouette could only be Paul—a few feet
away. He had something in his hands, probably a camera.

“Now the bra,” he heard Paul saying.

The girl didn’t argue; she immediately took
off her bra. Paul was aiming the camera. There was a flash. Another
flash. Each flash momentarily lit up the girl. It was the blonde,
no question about it—and she was beautiful.

After taking several pictures, Paul told her
to take off her panties. And she did. Without any fuss. Tony was
perplexed. This was too easy. Especially for someone he had said
was a new girlfriend. Paul took more pictures.

Shahla said, with her mouth to Tony’s ear,
“He’s got her underwear. Now he’s going to push her off the
cliff.”

Was he? Was this what Paul had done to Joy?
Convince her to pose for him in the nude? Pretty girls were vain
about their figures and susceptible to flattery, but Joy hadn’t
even known him—had she? What was going to happen next? Should he
intervene?

They heard Paul say, “That’s enough of
that.”

Paul placed his camera on the ground and
started to walk toward the girl.

Shahla spoke into Tony’s ear, loud enough to
hurt his eardrum. “He’s going to do it now. Stop him!”

Tony sprang to his feet and ran toward Paul.
The girl screamed. Tony lowered his head and hit Paul with his
shoulder, at waist level, the full weight of his body behind the
blow. Paul crumpled to the ground, and Tony fell on top of him.
Tony lay dazed for several seconds. Paul didn’t move either.

Then he realized that the girl was standing
over him, yelling at him. “What are you doing?” she shouted, again
and again. He was aware that she had picked up something. A rock.
She was going to hit him with a rock. He staggered to his feet and
raised his arms. She threw the good-sized rock at him with both
hands. It was a weak throw, and he evaded it.

“He was going to push you off the cliff,” he
told the girl.

“You idiot. He wasn’t going to push me off
the cliff.”

“How do you know? You just met him.”

“I’ve known him all my life. He’s my
brother.”

“Your brother?” He looked from the girl to
the still horizontal Paul. There was definitely a family
resemblance. This was terribly wrong. Tony couldn’t sort it out,
but he knew he had to get out of here. Right now. Before Paul got
up. And Paul was stirring.

Tony started running toward the path. Where
was Shahla? Then he saw her running ahead of him. He came to the
downhill portion. He was going too fast in the dark. He tripped
over a root and went flying. He landed hard. He couldn’t breathe.
The wind had been knocked out of him. He lay there for several
seconds, wondering if he was going to die. He gasped for breath and
then realized that since he could gasp, he could breathe.

He climbed slowly to his feet. He hurt all
over. He continued down the hill, looking over his shoulder,
expecting to see Paul coming after him. But there was nobody in
sight. Tony limped down to the street, waited for a car to pass,
and then crossed to the other side. Shahla was standing beside the
car.

“Are you all right?” Shahla asked anxiously.
“I was about to go back and look for you.”

“No.” But he had to get them out of there
before Paul identified them. He belatedly fumbled for the keys in
his pocket—found them. His hands were shaking as he tried to press
the remote that unlocked the car. He finally heard the click and
then managed to open the door. He fell into the car. Shahla was
already in her seat. He started the engine and ground the gearshift
into first. The car jolted forward.

***

“You look terrible,” Shahla said as Tony
stiffly got out of the car.

“Thank you.”

They had stopped at a diner outside of Las
Vegas. Shahla had insisted on it. They hadn’t eaten anything since
lunch. And Tony’s hands, elbows, and now he realized, his knees
were ground up like raw hamburger from his fall. He admitted he
couldn’t drive home until he ate and got cleaned up, but he refused
to go to an emergency room, thinking that if Paul reported the
attack he would be linked to it.

“They won’t let me in there looking like
this,” Tony said, surveying his wounds.

“I’m going to get some paper towels to clean
you up.”

Shahla went into the diner. Now that the initial
shock had worn off, Tony wondered how he would be able to hold the
steering wheel for 300 miles with his mangled hands. And his pants
were ruined, torn at the knees. He sat back down on the car seat as
he became conscious of increasing pain.

Shahla returned a few minutes later with damp paper
towels and a knife.

“I borrowed this from the kitchen,” she said,
referring to the knife.

“Are you going to put me out of my misery?”

“I’m going to cut off your pants above the knee so
we can get at your knees.”

In order for her to do that he had to stand
up. He was afraid she’d cut his legs off, but she was careful. And
skillful. She fashioned him a new pair of shorts. Together they
cleaned up the worst of his injuries. By the time he walked into
the diner, he was confident he wouldn’t attract too many
stares.

“Go into the restroom and finish cleaning
yourself off,” Shahla ordered.

“While I’m doing that, call your mother and
tell her you’re all right.” It wouldn’t be a complete lie.

Tony emerged from the restroom a few minutes
later, feeling almost human. They ordered dinner, and he realized
how starved he was.

“What do you think was going on between
those two?” Shahla asked, after the waitress took their order.

“Well, I think that’s what you call an
incestuous relationship. When I tackled Paul, he was starting to
take his shirt off.”

“Incest? I’ve heard callers talk about
incest, but I thought they were fantasizing.”

“That didn’t look like a fantasy to me.”

***

“I can’t stay awake. If I try to keep
driving, I’m going to kill us.” Tony took the off-ramp into a rest
area and parked the car. It was past midnight, and he hadn’t had
any sleep since 5:30 that morning. Even the pain from his injuries
couldn’t keep him awake. He had been driving all over the road. His
left knee was stiffening up, too, making it difficult for him to
shift, although not much shifting was required on the Interstate.
It was the sleep factor he couldn’t overcome.

“I’ll drive,” Shahla said.

“Have you ever driven a stick shift?”

“No, but I can learn.”

“Not in my Porsche. Besides, you must be as
tired as I am.”

“I got an extra couple of hours sleep.
Remember? And I’m younger.”

“Call your mother again and tell her you’re
still all right.”

The car was not designed for sleeping. The
seats didn’t tilt back. Tony slid down in his seat to try and get
comfortable, but his left knee hurt when he bent it. He closed his
eyes. At some point Shahla bridged the gap between the seats and
placed her head on his shoulder.

Tony spent a restless night, but every time
he woke up he fell asleep again and had dreams with violent but
undefined movement. Finally, he opened his eyes and saw that dawn
was breaking.

CHAPTER 21

Tony didn’t feel up to working on the
Hotline Monday evening. His body ached, his wounds had not healed,
and his left knee was still stiff, making it difficult for him to
shift his Porsche. He had been evasive in telling Josh what had
happened to him, admitting that he had gone to Las Vegas, but not
that anybody had accompanied him. His injuries had occurred when he
tripped on a crack in the sidewalk.

He told essentially the same story to Mona.
She was sympathetic, even offering to make him dinner at her place.
He declined, feeling that it wasn’t a good precedent to set, and
told her that he was working on the Hotline that evening, knowing
that she would respond positively. Rather than turn himself into a
liar, he went.

Tony left his office late and picked up a
pizza he had ordered by phone on his way to the Hotline. The door
was unlocked when he arrived, which immediately made him feel
irritated at Shahla. He would chew her out, especially if she were
there alone. She wasn’t. As he walked in the door, he could see
Shahla and Nathan in the listening room.

Nathan was on a call, but Shahla came out
when she saw him and asked, in a stage whisper, “How are you
feeling?”

“Like sh… Like I’ve just spent an hour in a
clothes dryer with spikes on the tumbler.”

“I’m sorry. I feel responsible for what
happened. I wasn’t sure you were coming tonight.”

“Were you going to work alone?” He was still
looking for a reason to be mad at her.

“I called Gail, and she said Nathan was
signed up to work. I thought it would be a good chance for me to
ask him about this church he belongs to.”

“I don’t want you doing any detective work
by yourself.”

She turned her back on him.

He
was
being rather snarly. There was
no reason to take his pain out on Shahla. He admitted to himself
that he had enjoyed having her along on the trip. If only the
climax had been different. And that hadn’t been her fault. He had
bought into the idea that Paul was going to push the girl off the
cliff. Paul had lied to them about his girlfriend. Or at least not
told them the truth. But when you’re committing incest with your
sister, what story are you going to tell people?

Tony said, “I asked Nathan some questions
about his church, but he wasn’t very forthcoming. In fact, I made
him mad. I’m surprised he’ll even work a shift with me on it.”

“Let me try.”

As long as Tony was there, he was willing to
let Shahla ask questions. He signed in while Nathan was ending his
call and then limped into the listening room.

Nathan looked up and said, “My God, Tony,
what happened to you?”

In addition to his limp, he had wrapped his
hands in white gauze to cover the ugliest scrapes. “I got caught in
a cement mixer.”

“Ha ha. Listen, if you’d like to take the
night off, Shahla and I can handle the phones.”

That was exactly what was not going to
happen. Tony sank into the remaining chair and vowed to stay there
until the shift ended. He opened the pizza box, selected a piece,
and took a big bite out of it. “Have a piece,” he said with his
mouth full, including Shahla and Nathan with a gesture.

Nathan declined; Shahla took a piece. Within
a minute, the phone rang. Tony picked it up, figuring that talking
to a caller might improve his mood. A repeat caller was on the line
who liked to talk sports. Tony could handle this call with half a
brain. And eat his pizza at the same time. He pressed the mute
button when his chewing was loudest. And he could keep an eye on
Nathan and Shahla.

He wished Shahla weren’t wearing such a
short skirt—the shortest one he had seen her wear. Nathan wasn’t
just another high school boy. He was older, and older men could be
lecherous. Josh was a good example. And, if he was honest, Tony
couldn’t exempt himself.

Tony listened in on the conversation between
Nathan and Shahla with one ear, while the other ear listened to the
caller.

“May I ask what religion you are?” Nathan
asked Shahla without looking at her.

“My dad was Protestant, my mom originally
was Muslim, and I have Quaker ancestors. What does that make
me?”

“A mess. Let me tell you a little about my
church.”

Tony frowned. Was he proselytizing her?
Shahla looked at Nathan attentively. With his usual shiftiness,
Nathan didn’t look directly at her.

“Our church is based on Christianity,”
Nathan said, “but we differ from other Christian sects in one
important respect.”

“What’s that?” Shahla asked.

“We know when Jesus is returning to earth to
take the believers with him into heaven.”

“Oh, when is that?” Shahla asked, as if she
were asking what time the next bus left.

Tony had to answer a comment made by his
caller at this point. He missed the next few sentences of their
conversation.

When he tuned in again, Shahla was saying,
“You can tell me, Nathan. I won’t tell anybody.”

“Would you like to attend one of our
services? Since you’re not strongly committed to any religion, that
means you have an open mind. You would get a chance to learn the
truth. And you would get into heaven with us. I would hate for a
pretty girl like you to be left behind. Our services are on
Thursdays at seven.”

So, Nathan wanted Shahla to go to heaven
with him. Tony had an almost overwhelming urge to grab Shahla by
the scruff of her neck and yank her away from him. He gave a
head-fake and quickly and quietly told his caller that he had to
take another call. He told him he could call back tomorrow. Tony
hung up, surreptitiously, so that Nathan wouldn’t be aware that he
was listening to their conversation.

Shahla was mumbling something, apparently
looking at her appointment book. Tony knew she carried one. She was
one of the most organized teenagers he had ever known.

“Thursday. Why Thursday?”

“You mean, as opposed to Sunday? Because on
the weekends we’re too busy getting ready for the big day. Some of
us still have jobs, you know, and can’t do that during the
week.”