`You frightened off the kidnappers, in his opinion, and prevented them from returning his son to him. I'm very much afraid he wants nothing more to do with you, Mr. Archer.'
`And neither do you?'
Dr Sponti pursed his lips and brought his ten fingers together in the air. They made a Norman arch and then a Gothic one. `I'm sure you understand the pressures I'm under. I'm virtually obliged to do as Mr. Hillman wishes in his extremity.'
`Sure.'
`And I'm not going to ask you to refund any part of your check. The entire two hundred and fifty dollars is yours, even though you've been in my employ' - he looked at his watch - `considerably less than twenty-four hours. The unearned surplus will take care of your medical expenses, I'm sure.'
He was backing toward the door. `Well, I have to run.'
`Go to hell,' I said as he went out.
He poked his head in again: `You may regret saying that. I'm tempted to stop payment on that check after all.'
I made an obscene suggestion as to the disposition of the check. Dr Sponti turned as blue as a Santa Clara plum and went away. I lay and enjoyed my anger for a while. It went so nicely with the reciprocating ache in my head. And it helped to cover over the fact that I had let myself in for this. I shouldn't have gone the second time to Dack's Auto Court, at least not when I did.
A nurse's aide came in and took away my tray. Later a doctor palpated my skull, looked into my eyes with a tiny light, and told me I probably had a slight concussion but so had a lot of other people walking around. I borrowed a safety razor from an orderly, shaved and dressed, and went down to the cashier's window and paid my bill with Sponti's check.
I got over two hundred dollars change. Riding downtown in a taxi, I decided I could afford to spend another day on the case, whether Dr Sponti liked it or not. I told the driver to let me off at the Telephone Company.
`You said the courthouse.'
`The telephone company. We've had a change of plan.'
`You should have said so in the first place.'
`Forgive my failure of leadership.'
I was feeling bitter and bright. It had to do with the weather, which had turned sunny, but more to do with my decision to spend my own time on a boy I'd never seen. I didn't tip the driver.
One end of the main public room in the telephone building was lined with long-distance booths and shelves of out-of-town directories. Only the main cities in Idaho, like Boise and Pocatello and Idaho Falls, were represented. I looked through their directories, for a photographer named Harold Harley. He wasn't listed. Robert Brown was, by the legion, but the name was almost certainly an alias.
I installed myself in one of the booths and placed a long-distance call to Arnie Walters, a Reno detective who often worked with me. I had no Idaho contact, and Reno was on the fastest route to Idaho. Reno itself had a powerful attraction for thieves with sudden money.
'Walters Agency,' Arnie said.
`This is Lew.'
I told him where I was calling from, and why.
`You come up with some dillies. Murder and kidnapping, eh?'
`The kidnapping may be a phony. Tom Hillman, the supposed victim, has been palling around with the murdered woman for a couple of weeks.'
`How old did you say he was?'
`Seventeen. He's big for his age.'
I described Tom Hillman in detail. `He may be traveling with Brown either voluntarily or involuntarily.'
`Or not traveling at all?' Arnie said.
`Or not traveling at all.'
`You know this boy?'
`No.'
`I thought maybe you knew him. Okay. Where does this photographer Harold Harley come in?'
'Harley may be Brown himself, or he may know Brown. His card is the only real lead I have so far. That and the Idaho license. I want you to do two things. Check Idaho and adjoining states for Harley. You have the business directories, don't you?'
`Yeah, I'll get Phyllis on them.'
She was his wife and partner.
`The other thing, I want you to look out for Brown and the boy, you and your informers in Tahoe and Vegas.'
`What makes you think they're headed in this direction?'
`It's a hunch. The woman had a silver dollar and a loaded dice in her purse.'
`And no identification?'
