I ordered her another drink and indicated mild sympathy.
'Jud's a good boy,' she said, as if somebody had just denied it. 'He played football at Washington State and led the team in rushing. A lot of people in Spokane thought he would have made All-American if he'd played for a better-known school. But he never got due recognition, he never has. He lost his coaching job out of sheer politics pure and simple. The charges they made were a lot of poppycock, he told me so himself.'
'What charges?'
'Nothing. They were a lot of poppycock, I mean it.' She finished her fourth martini and regarded me with simple cunning over the empty glass. 'I don't believe you told me what kind of business that you're in. Lew?'
'I don't believe I did. I run a small agency in Hollywood.'
'Isn't that interesting? Jud has always been interested in acting. He hasn't done any, actually, but he's said to be a very handsome boy. Jud was down in Hollywood last week.'
'Looking for an acting job?'
'Anything,' she said. 'He's a willing worker, but the trouble is he isn't trained for anything, I mean after he lost his teaching credentials, and then the dance studio folded. Do you think you could get him something to do in Hollywood?'
'I'd certainly like to talk to him,' I said truthfully.
She was tipsy and hopeful, and she wasn't surprised by my interest in her brother.
'_That_ can be arranged,' she said. 'As a matter of fact he's at my apartment right now. I could call him and tell him to come over here.'
'Let's have dinner first.'
'_I_ don't mind paying for Jud's dinner.' She realized she had made a tactical error, and quickly back- tracked: 'But I guess three's company, eh? I mean two.'
She talked so much about her brother at dinner that it was almost like having him there. She recited his old football statistics. She told me, with a kind of vicarious enthusiasm, all about his prowess with the ladies. She explained about the brilliant ideas Jud was always hatching. The one I liked best was a plan for a condensed version of the Bible, with all the offensive passages removed, for family reading.
Sally couldn't drink. She was coming apart by the time we finished eating. She wanted to pick up her brother and go and hell around in the clubs, but my heart wasn't in it. I took her home. In the cab she went to sleep on my shoulder. This I didn't mind.
I woke her up on Riley Street and got her into the house and up the stairs. She seemed very large and loosely put together, and the foxes kept slipping. I felt as if I'd been nursing drunks all weekend.
A man in shirtsleeves and form-fitting trousers opened the door of her flat. With Sally leaning on me, I got a quick impression of him: a man of half-qualities who lived in a halfworld: he was half-handsome, half-lost, half-spoiled, half-smart, half-dangerous. His pointed Italian shoes were scuffed at the toes.
'Need any help?' he said to me.
'Don't be ridic,' Sally said. 'I'm in perfect control. Mr. Archer, meet brother Jud, Judson Foley.'
'Hello,' he said. 'You shouldn't have let her drink. She's got a weak head for liquor. Here, I'll take her.'
With weary skill he looped her arm over his shoulders, clasped her around the waist, walked her through the front room into a lighted bedroom, laid her out on the Hollywood bed, and turned off the light.
He seemed unpleasantly surprised to find me still in the front room. 'Good night, Mr. Archer, or whatever your name is. We're closing up for the night now.'
'You're not very hospitable.'
'No. My sister is the hospitable one.' He cast a sour glance around the little room, at overflowing ashtrays, clouded glasses, scattered newspapers. 'I never saw you before, I'll never see you again. Why should I be hospitable?'
'You're sure you never saw me before? Think hard.'
His brown eyes studied my face, and then my body. He scratched nervously at the front of his thinning hair. He shook his head.
'If I ever saw you before I must have been drunk at the time. Did Sally bring you here when I was drunk?'
'No. Were you drinking last Friday night?'
'Let's see, what night was that? I think I was out of town. Yeah. I didn't get back here until Saturday morning.' He was trying to sound casual and look unconcerned. 'It must have been two other guys.'
'I don't think so, Jud. I ran into you, or you ran into me, about nine last Friday night in Pacific Point.'
Panic brightened his face like a flash of lightning. 'Who are you?'
'I chased you down Helen Haggerty's driveway, remember? You were too fast for me. It took me two days to catch up.'
He was breathing as if he'd just finished the run. 'Are you from the police?'
'I'm a private detective.'
He sat down in a Danish chair, gripping the fragile arms so hard I thought they might break. He snickered. It was very close to a sob.
'This is Bradshaw's idea, isn't it?'
I didn't answer him. I cleared a chair and sat in it.
'Bradshaw said he was satisfied with my story. Now he sends you up against me.' His eyes narrowed. 'I suppose you were pumping my sister about me.'
'She doesn't need much priming.'
Twisting in the chair, he threw a wicked look in the direction of her bedroom. 'I wish she'd keep her mouth shut about my business.'
'Don't blame her for what you did yourself.'
'But the hell of it is I didn't _do_ anything. I _told_ Bradshaw that, and he believed me, at least he said he did.'
'Are you talking about Roy Bradshaw?'
'Who else? He recognized me the other night, or thought he did. I didn't know who it was I bumped in the dark. I just wanted out of there.'
'Why?'
He lifted his heavy shoulders and sat with them lifted, head down between them. 'I didn't want trouble with the law.'
'What were you doing at Helen's?'
'She _asked_ me to come. Hell, I went there as a good Samaritan. She called me at the motel in Santa Monica and practically begged me to come and spend the night. It wasn't my beautiful blue eyes. She was frightened, she wanted company.'
'What time did she call you?'
'Around seven or seven-thirty. I was just coming in from getting something to eat.' He dropped his shoulders. 'Listen, you know all this, you got it from Bradshaw, didn't you? What are you trying to do, trap me into a mistake?'
'It's an idea. What sort of a mistake did you have in mind?'
He shook his head, and went on shaking it as he spoke. 'I didn't have anything particular in mind. I mean, I can't afford to make any mistakes.'
'You already made the big one, when you ran.'
'I know. I panicked.' He shook his head some more. 'There she was with a bullet hole in her skull and there I was a natural setup for a patsy. I heard you fellows coming, and I panicked. You've got to believe me.'
They always said that. 'Why do I have to believe you?'
'Because I'm telling the truth. I'm innocent as a little child.'
'That's pretty innocent.'
'I didn't mean in general, I meant in this particular situation. I went a long way out of my way to give Helen a helping hand. It doesn't make sense I'd go there to knock her off. I _liked_ the girl. She and I had a lot in common.'
I didn't know if this was a compliment to either of them. Bert Haggerty had described his ex-wife as
