rights?”
“I thought we could keep it friendlier’n that.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Erikson said. His tone was freezing.
Through the crack in the door, I could see Calkins sizing him up. Whatever the deputy had expected to find, it plainly hadn’t included the impressive-looking, six-foot-four-inch blond Viking confronting him. Calkins’ manner was wary and his tone conciliatory. “We had a little ruckus up our way a bit ago, Mr. Drake,” he said. “On the ranch of a woman named Hazel Andrews who lives north of Ely.” He waited, but Erikson said nothing. “Do you know Hazel Andrews?”
“I’ll reserve my answer to that until I know the purpose of your question.”
A touch of steel came back into the deputy’s voice. “It was the type of ruckus that don’t get into the papers much, but the kind the law can’t turn its back on. A bunch of snotty-nosed kids got way out of line and like to killed a man. Maybe they did — there’s still wranglin’ goin’ on about the autopsy — but the point is the kids collected a load of lead from someone who caught ‘em at the job. Maybe they had it comin', Mr. Drake, but we don’t hold with vigilantes in White Pine County.”
“The kids were killed, too?”
“No. This unknown party dealt ‘em a bullet apiece slick as you please. By the time we were called in on it, there was no one at the ranch but Mrs. Andrews. It was her stepfather who was killed, an’ she climbed my boss an’ turned him every way but loose. She can handle a gun but not like that. Besides, we got a description from the kids of the man who did the job.”
“And I fit the description?”
“Not by six inches an’ fifty pounds.”
“Then, why are you wasting my time?”
“Because I followed Mrs. Andrews from her ranch right straight to this hotel,” Calkins said doggedly. “She came in, but she didn’t register. I did some nosin’ around an’ I found out she talked an assistant manager into lettin’ her into your room here, Mr. Drake.”
“So it seems I’m not unacquainted with Hazel Andrews,” Erikson said. “But I don’t fit the description—”
“You might know who does.” Erikson was silent. “Mr. Drake, do you know a man five-ten, a hundred seventy pounds, ruddy complexion, who’s capable of goin’ up to Mrs. Andrews’ ranch an’ puttin’ on a turkey shoot like Bill Cody never saw in his Wild West days?”
“Why didn’t your boss tell you to ask Mrs. Andrews that question, Deputy Calkins?”
“Mrs. Andrews is the biggest taxpayer in the county, Mr. Drake, an’ my boss is plannin’ for reelection next year. He’s got to do what’s right, but he don’t figure he’s got to stick his neck in the wringer to do it.”
Erikson’s attitude turned crisp. “I’ll state categorically that I didn’t do the shooting in White Pine County. When was it, did you say?”
“A month ago. Lackin’ a day.”
Erikson looked at his calendar wristwatch. “Then, if I were to prove to you that a month ago lacking a day I wasn’t within two thousand miles of White Pine County, wouldn’t that conclude your conversation?”
“Unless maybe you might want to be helpful,” Calkins conceded.
“My topcoat is in the cloakroom in the lobby,” Erikson said. “I ran upstairs to take a long-distance call. Let’s go down and I’ll show you evidence that will take me out of the picture entirely.”
“You could still know—”
“I don’t. But let’s go downstairs. I want to relieve your mind of its last lingering doubt about me.”
Erikson shepherded Calkins through the doorway. The instant it closed behind them, I bolted into action. I reholstered the.38, dashed into the bedroom, grabbed my overnight bag from the closet, dumped the remainder of the $50,000 into it, threw in my clothes on top, and walked out the door carrying the bag with my coat slung over it.
I had the good luck to find a bellboy on the elevator. “Here,” I said, thrusting bag and coat at him. “Hold these at the bell captain’s desk for me. I’ll pick them up in half an hour.” I gave him two dollars.
He handed me a thin metal disc and I watched while he attached its counterpart to my bag. The boy got off in the lobby, carrying my things. I rode the cab down to the basement and walked back up the stairs. At the lobby level again, I walked directly into the bar and selected a stool that gave me a full view of both the lobby’s cloakroom entrance and the bell captain’s desk. There was an element of risk in leaving the money in the unlocked bag, but I wouldn’t be out of sight of the bag.
I sat and watched the cloakroom door. Erikson could have got rid of Calkins already, or they could still be inside. Erikson had gone up a couple of notches in my estimation. If I’d been him, I don’t know if I’d have had the wit to claim to be Drake. It had taken the sword right out of Calkins’ hands when the two descriptions failed to match. It irked me, though, that I had had to be rescued by Erikson, the amateur. And it had been a rescue. Without him, I might easily have had to shoot my way out of that hotel room.
Five minutes went by and I was beginning to think they had left already. Then Erikson and Calkins emerged together from the cloakroom. Calkins went directly to the front entrance and walked outside to the street. I was too far away to see his expression, but he could hardly have been happy with the result of his investigation.
Erikson came into the bar. Without breaking stride he continued on to the men’s room. I gave it two minutes and followed him. There was one other man inside. I washed my hands until he left. Then Erikson and I stood with Erikson halfway into one of the private toilets so he could step inside and close the door if anyone else happened to enter.
Now that I was rid of Calkins, I really had only one other thing on my mind. After having his nose rubbed in the subject of Hazel Andrews just now, and in circumstances that left neither Hazel nor me looking particularly bright, what was Erikson’s reaction going to be when he found Hazel behind the stick at The Castaways?
Erikson spoke first. “The deputy is satisfied that he’s run into a stone wall. He’s not as unhappy about it as you might expect. He let it slip that he felt the sheriff had given him a job to do that the sheriff had felt it politically inexpedient to take upon himself.” Erikson was studying me. “From the sound of things, you ought to get yourself a less conspicuous woman. Calkins spoke of her size, her looks, her money, and her temper. It was hard to tell which impressed him most.”
He said it almost jovially. I couldn’t understand it. Then it came to me. Just as it had been a relief to me to find that Erikson could handle himself capably in an emergency, he must be feeling the same way about me after learning from the deputy the details of what had taken place at the ranch. Before, he’d been taking me strictly on Slater’s word.
I ignored the remarks about Hazel. “Before you leave the hotel right now, Mr. Drake,” I said to Erikson, “I’d appreciate your stopping at the front desk and checking out.” I handed him two one-hundred-dollar bills from my thin reserve fund. I didn’t want him to think I had been dependent upon the $50,000 now that he might have a different idea about where it came from.
“In case someone has Calkins watching the desk, you mean?” I nodded. “I don’t believe he has, but it’s not a bad move. What about your things?”
“I cleaned out the room.”
“So where to now?”
“Key West.”
“There’s something you can do for me first if you will. One of the items we’re going to need on the cruiser is a combination scanner-transmitter to raise hob with the Cuban radar. There’s a place in San Francisco where components can be bought — some of this material is still classified — but I don’t want to appear there personally. I’ll write out for you what we need, and I’d appreciate it if you’d pick it up and bring it to Key West with you.”
“Okay.” It seemed little enough to do.
“See you soon.” Erikson smiled — I realized it was the first smile I’d seen from him — and left the men’s room.
Two minutes later I picked up my bag at the bell captain’s desk and left the Hotel Aztec and San Diego.
The first thing I noticed about Key West was the heat.
At Miami after the flight from San Francisco the temperature had been 82°. At Key West International Airport it was 87°, and it was a humidity-boosted increase. I could feel my clothes beginning to stick to me during the short walk from the terminal to the cabstand.
The September-afternoon flight from Miami to Key West in an elderly DC-3 was picturesque. The color alone
