Bring Back Her Body Page 5

Cain rose wearily, got the coffee, and went out with her. He turned out the light but left the door ajar. There would be time to fix it later. He got in the car and then slid over, away from the wheel.

  “You drive,” he said. He put his head out the window and fought being sick to his stomach.

  • • •

  Lisa parked at the rear of a two-story building just off Pike and nearly downtown. The downstairs, Cain saw, when they had gone around to the front, consisted of two stores. One window said: LISA SIMMS, COSTUMERY; the other, PATTON GALLERIES, OBJETS D’ART. Upstairs, Lisa had three rooms for an apartment. The rest, she explained, belonged to Toby. He had a very fancy apartment, she added.

  “Handy,” Cain commented. He sat wearily on her divan and let himself slump.

  She swore at him. “Our service porches connect,” she said. “And that door …” She pointed to one in the living room wall. “It’s locked and bolted on my side.”

  “Would Toby go for a woman anyway?” Cain asked.

  What he thought was almost an expression of pain, crossed her fine features. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure.” Then she glared at him. “Damn it, why should I defend myself to you? It’s none of your business if I play footsy with him every night.”

  “No,” Cain agreed. “Do you?”

  Lisa stalked into the kitchen. Grinning his evil grin, Cain looked around. The room was small but decorated to give the illusion of more space. He liked the wallpaper, the few prints on the walls, the small case of interesting-looking books. He was still liking it when he fell asleep.

  He awoke to find a tea cart piled high with sandwiches being wheeled up to him. He sniffed the fragrance of strong, fresh coffee and came wide awake. “I’m not really hungry,” Cain said.

  A little later he looked in surprise at the empty plate and at the empty coffee pot. Lisa laughed. “We’re both long people, Cain. It takes a lot to fill us up.”

  “Including my head,” Cain said. “Why didn’t I just listen to Munger tonight instead of trying to throw my weight around? Like he said, someday I’ll push him too far.”

  “You’re made that way, Cain. You’re a damned fool idealist.”

  “Not at all,” Cain said stiffly. “I’m a realist.”

  “It’s too late for semantic argument,” she said. “But, Cain, is Munger really so bad?”

  She made it sound much as though she hoped he would say no. He said, “Don’t tell me you’re in love with him?”

  “How could I be?”

  “Lots of women fall for men they don’t know. They get a mental picture. Maybe big, square, masculine guys of the tweedy type are the ones you go for?”

  She gave a harsh, abrupt laugh. “I only go for what I know, Cain. I’ve grown out of the hero-worship-from-a-distance stage. Maybe I like mine long and lean and bony.”

  “Now, look …”

  “I just asked a simple question. Shall we get back to it?”

  Cain knew when he was licked. He said, “I’d say that Munger’s most endearing trait is his resemblance to a mad cobra. Otherwise he isn’t nice at all.” He told her a little about Munger, the things he did for profit, the things he had done to people who bothered him. A lot of them sounded like the type of pleasure Toby Patton would go for.

  “You pick on the nicest people to mess up,” she observed.

  “Three of his friends,” Cain said, “if you count Toby. Although he didn’t even react when I told him Toby was in his coffin.” He lighted his pipe and leaned back, remembering. It made him feel fine to recall it. His anger hadn’t lessened because “Paula” was made of wax.

  Even Curtin had been a little disgusted after the opening of the coffin. But that hadn’t stopped him from trying to fight when Cain had obviously been intent on beating Toby into complete insensibility. Cain chuckled at the memory.

  “We managed to devastate that party,” he said. “I liked the way you turned that Smathers woman upside down in the bushes.”

  Cain doubted if anyone but Toby had been completely knocked out but certainly all were too drunk from liquor and exertion to be of much use. They had all finally lain where they had fallen or been knocked while Cain tucked Toby into the coffin with the wax image of Paula, locked the box, and threw the key into the underbrush.

  “What if Toby dies from lack of air, Cain?” Lisa asked.

  He shrugged indifferently. “It wasn’t a tightly made box. He can probably kick out the top. Besides, who gets excited when a piece of scum gets killed?” He yawned widely. “Anyway, someone was up and around.”

  Lisa nodded. As they were leaving, they had heard a man cry, “Ah, Hebe, the cupbearer to the Gods.” They had not turned back to see, but Cain suggested that one of the women had got a flask and was going about reviving the rest with it.

  Now, though, it didn’t really matter. Cain’s head drooped and his pipe slipped from his teeth. Lisa caught it deftly. “Come on, Cain, time to hit the sack.”

  He allowed himself to be steered into a bedroom. When she started peeling off his coat, he awoke long enough to protest. “Oh shut up,” she said. “Do you think you’re in any shape to go to that boat of yours? If you didn’t fall asleep on the way, you’d be out before you hit the bunk. And you’d be a sitting duck for Munger or Toby.”

  Cain said, “Yeh,” but when it came to getting off his trousers, he made her go out. Finally, down to his shorts, he crawled into the bed, rolled over, and was asleep.

  Lisa came back after turning off the living room lights, spent a moment looking down at Cain, then removed her clothing and crawled in beside him. She wasn’t worried about Cain. She certainly wouldn’t worry about any man who slept that hard.

  She lay awake for some time, listening to his breathing. Then she said softly into the darkness, “You poor damned fool. You don’t half know what you’ve got into.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  CAIN awoke refreshed with the sun slanting in his eyes, sat up with a cavernous yawn, and put his legs over the side of the bed. His toes felt for the familiar matting of the cabin floor. He was startled when his feet flattened out on a soft rug instead. Blinking, he looked around, and slowly his memory swam back to the surface, quickly pushing away sleep.

  He turned and looked at the bed. The other pillow was indented and faintly fragrant. He plucked a long dark hair from the white case and dropped it hurriedly.

  “Hey!”

  “Toothbrush and razor in the bath,” a voice called from beyond the door. “Hurry it — breakfast is coming up.”

  Cain trotted into the bath. He felt better when he had shaved and showered. He found Lisa in the kitchen. She wore a bright yellow housecoat and her hair was done loosely so that she looked fresh and gay and young. The platter of food on the table looked good, too, and Cain sat down to it. Lisa joined him in silence.

  Cain helped himself to bacon and eggs and toast. He lifted his fork and then set it down. “Look,” he said. “Where did you sleep?”

  “With you.”

  “You needn’t be so damned matter-of-fact about it,” he said. “Did — I mean, we …”

  Maddeningly, she cut open a fried egg with the side of her fork. “I should be insulted, I suppose. No, Cain. No log could have done a better job of sleeping. Now eat your breakfast.”

  “Ah,” Cain said with obvious relief. He ate rapidly and steadily.

  When they were done, Lisa handed him an envelope containing a single sheet of notepaper. Cain unfolded it slowly. There was a printed heading: Patton Galleries, and beneath it a formal letter, very brief.

  “Your lease is terminated immediately as per our contract. You are requested to vacate by six p.m. today. T. Patton.” Under the typed signature was scrawled, “By J. Merton.”

  “That’s his valet or secretary or whatever you want to call him,” she said. “Toby probably woke up with an aching head and phoned the order here. Well, so I go back to the beach where I came from and dig clams.”

  “What kind of a contract d
id you have?”

  “My lease is at Toby’s pleasure. He owns the building. He invested the money in the costumes I rent. He owns everything here except my clothes and a few books.” She made a wry face, rose, and brought more coffee. “But let’s not let it spoil a beautiful morning. It isn’t worth the effort.”

  Later she said, “Well, what’s for today, Cain?”

  “I’m seeing Honor to find out what she’s been holding back,” he said. “But there’s no need for you to get mixed further into it.”

  “Today is Friday,” she remarked. “You only have eight more days to find Paula.”

  “How in hell did you know that?”

  She gave him a mocking grin. “I’m not clairvoyant, Cain. Honor told me. And you will need help.”

  “So will you,” Cain said. He looked around pointedly. He wanted to ask her how she had got mixed up with Toby Patton in the first place. But he remembered that it was none of his business and said, “Let’s get started.”

  Lisa packed after she had washed the dishes and straightened the place a bit. When she was done, everything she owned filled two cardboard cartons and a suitcase. They took them out to the car.

  “Off to the beach,” Lisa remarked.

  “I’m sorry,” Cain said. “I got you into this.”

  “Let’s say you got me out,” she corrected. “I’m eight years over twenty-one. I knew what I was doing.”

  “Got your beach picked out?” he said dryly.

  “I’m serious,” she said. She tapped her purse. “I’ve got eighty-nine dollars and all my worldly assets are in this car.”

  “You can have my apartment.”

  “Will you be there?”

  Cain glanced sideways at her. “No, you’re safe.”

  “I’m aware that I’m safe,” she said sharply. “I just intended to be closer to where you are, that’s all.” His startled expression was as plain as a yelp of anguish. “Stop it, Cain! I’m not propositioning you. After last night, I just think you need help. I can’t give any if we’re miles apart. Let me use a corner of your land and I’ll set up camp.”

  “I can see you coming out of the bush every morning. Will you wear skins?”

  “I mean it.”

  Cain made no answer. He didn’t doubt her. In silence, he drove down the gravel road that led to his land and then bumped over the half-cleared set of ruts he had chopped from the road to his dock. His boat rocked gently on the blue water, his dinghy beside it. He parked in front of his garage of rough lumber, lifted out her boxes, and started for the dock. She stood a moment, then lifted her suitcase and followed. There was a light smile on her lips.

  Cain said, “I’m almost isolated here. Not even Honor can see me very well with her damned telescope. If her proximity doesn’t bother you, you’re welcome here.”

  “I like Honor,” she said briefly.

  Lisa stowed her few things in the cabin, in what she thought was a dresser, added her few groceries to those already in the galley, and took time to prowl around interestedly. The boat, she saw, was built for Cain and no one else. The hold was large in case he should decide to do some long-term fishing, but the galley, head, and cabin were small with the compact equipment found in trailers. One thing she noted — Cain had sacrificed one type of design for another. Everywhere on his boat there was headroom for him.

  When she returned to the deck, Lisa found Cain smoking a pipe and frowning across the rail toward Whidby Island northward.

  “I’m a long-time bachelor,” he said. “You won’t be comfortable.”

  “Eight days isn’t forever,” she said. “You go see Honor now while I find myself a place to bunk.”

  “Use my bunk,” he said. “I’ve made out on deck before.”

  “What if it rains?”

  “I have a tarp,” he told her. He moved away in long-legged strides.

  She watched him go. “And you’d use it, too,” she said aloud. “You damned puritan.”

  • • •

  Cain was disturbed. It wasn’t Lisa particularly; he just didn’t like the idea of anyone being underfoot. But he felt he owed her a bunk for a while, at least. Besides, she was a determined woman and he had an idea that if he hadn’t asked her to stay, he would have waked up to find her bivouaced on his beach. She might as well be comfortable.

  Cain shuddered. He didn’t want anyone to think that he needed them — especially a woman. It smacked too much of permanence. He had avoided matrimony so far by being nimble witted and, sometimes, nimble footed. But here he was besieged in his lair.

  At the Ryersons’, he asked Thomas for Honor. “She’s sunbathing, sir. And Mr. Ryerson asked that you see him, if you would.”

  “I’d prefer it,” Cain said. Honor Ryerson’s physical attributes were more disturbing than he liked to think.

  He was shown into the book-lined library. Despite its being a bright blue and gold day outside, Ryerson was sitting before a fire blazing high in the fireplace. Cain dropped into a leather chair.

  “Drink, Cain?”

  “Don’t use it.”

  “Any progress?”

  “You’ve heard something,” Cain said.

  “I’ve heard that Honor talked you into taking her to a place called Pepe’s where you knocked down Toby Patton. I wish I’d seen that. And I heard that you fed Honor a sleeping tablet and got her home and into bed somehow.”

  “That’s all,” Cain said. “No report. But I do have some questions.”

  “Go ahead. I won’t guarantee answers.”

  “Do you know Toby Patton?”

  “I met him through Paula. He’s foul.”

  “Could he have been blackmailing her?”

  “I couldn’t say. I’ve had him checked but he seems to be hard to trace when it comes to source of income. I wouldn’t put blackmail past him, though.”

  “He’s Munger’s man,” Cain said. “Do you know Munger?”

  “Not by sight.”

  Cain switched the subject. “What kind of reputation does Honor have?”

  “Of being eccentric.” Ryerson put back his head and laughed, a dry sound. “She has three passions, Cain. Astronomy and a conviction that nudism is the key to longevity.”

  “That’s only two.”

  “And you,” Ryerson said. “You’re the omnipotent one in these parts.”

  Cain said hastily, “That doesn’t tell me anything about her reputation.”

  Ryerson’s eyes were sharp. Then he shrugged lightly and said, “I’ve never had trouble with her. Not like Paula. I even suspect that she’s innocent.”

  “She seems frightened of Toby Patton.”

  “I think she’s afraid because of Paula,” Ryerson said. “For some reason, she’s devoted to Paula.”

  “But she doesn’t try to emulate her.”

  “You’ll find, Cain, that Honor is surprisingly mature in many ways. She’s past that stage.”

  If there was anything, Cain thought, Ryerson certainly wasn’t giving it to him. He said, “I want some details on Paula’s place on Whidby.”

  “I’m the last person who would know,” Ryerson said. “But I understand that she has a charged wire fence to keep people away. Whidby’s out, though, Cain. Honor has been over recently.”

  “Maybe she’s hiding even from Honor.”

  Ryerson shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve checked all I can. The day after she disappeared someone resembling Paula took a plane. It was a different name. I didn’t pursue it because seven days later the same person came back.”

  “What was Paula driving when she left here?”

  “Her black Cadillac club coupe.” He gave Cain the license number.

  “Wearing?”

  “How would I know?” He paused and added, “Why didn’t you ask me these things last night?”

  “Because I wasn’t interested.” Cain rose. “I’ll report when I have something.” He walked out and up the stairs. He knocked on Honor’s door. A faint voice told him to come in. He did
so and saw that the door to her “observatory” was open. Without thinking, he climbed up and stepped onto the flat roof.

  “Go get something on!” Cain said sharply. He turned around and looked at the Sound.

  “Anyone would think you never took a sunbath.”

  “Not publicly.” Cain wandered to the telescope. When she told him to turn, he did. She wore an almost negligible sun-suit now.

  She smiled brightly at him. “In two years I get a lot of money, Cain, and then I’m going to buy a desert mountain down in Arizona and build a real telescope.”

  “Uhm,” Cain said. “Been using this one today?”

  “Yes.” Her grin dropped and she faced him with her hands on her hips. “And I saw you and Lisa. That was fast work, Cain. What’s the matter with me?”

  “You,” Cain admitted reluctantly, “are fine.” He glared at the telescope. “How did you see my place from here?”

  She was grinning again, impishly. She moved to the telescope and swung it around, made some adjustments, and straightened up. “I raise the base a little and … Take a look.”

  Cain looked. The angle was downward now and there were a few trees in the way, but Honor had found a gap in the treetops that led right through to his dock and his boat. As she had said, everything was upside down. Lisa was in a chair at the moment, her feet on the rail, a drink in one hand, and a book in the other. In shorts and halter, she was soaking up the sunshine — upside down.

  Cain groaned and walked away from the telescope muttering about infernal machines and his lack of privacy. He glared at Honor. “Peeping Godiva.”

  She said for the second time, “What’s the matter with me that you have to go hauling practically a stranger onto your boat? And only one bed, too.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, Honor. It’s just that I’m in Lisa’s debt.”

  Honor pouted a little. “Can I move in when you’re in my debt, too, Cain?”

  He said irritably, “Damn it, because she chose to help us last night she’s lost her business and her place to live and she’s broke. Toby owned almost everything she had.”

  “Serves her right,” Honor said. Then she kicked at the rooftop with her toe. “No, it doesn’t, really. That was mean.” She looked at Cain, her eyes big. “But why does everyone get mixed up with Toby?”