I didn't answer.
MacGregor raised his eyebrows. 'What do you want this girl for, anyhow?'
Now was as good as any other time. 'I'm working a case.'
'Goddammit!' The front legs of his chair hit the floor and his smile collapsed like a house of cards. 'Why the hell didn't you tell me that yesterday? What case?'
'Private problem for a private client.'
'Who just happens to be looking for a friend of Jimmy Antonelli's when everyone else in the goddamn county is looking for Jimmy? What's the case, Smith?'
'I can't tell you. But it's not police business and it's not connected to Gould's death. And the girl might not be a friend of Jimmy's,' I added. 'I'm just guessing.'
MacGregor sat motionless, looked at me. 'God, I'm tempted.'
I knew what he was tempted to do. 'What for?'
He threw down his pencil, stood, yanked open the office door. 'Being stupid and ugly in public. Raising the blood pressure of a Senior Investigator. Get the hell out. I'll be watching you.'
That had been about it, there, so I'd started for the Greyhound depot in Cobleskill. The Appleseed plant was west of town; I could make my appearance at Sanderson's office after I got the silver squared away.
When I got on the highway, though, I had a better idea. I went east to 1A over the ridge, down into the softly quilted valley and through to Schoharie, same as yesterday. Main Street seemed exhausted under the leaden sky and leafless trees, as though it had stretched out for a rest and hadn't yet found the strength to get up and move on.
The smell of coffee and bacon grease inside the Park View was warm and familiar. The windows were still steamy, and the two old men in hunting jackets were at the same table in the front. Or maybe it was two other old men. I slid onto a stool and waited for Ellie to finish bringing them sandwiches.
Ellie came back to the counter, spotted me. Her faded brows knit together above her sharp nose; she squeezed my hand. 'Hon,' she said without preamble, 'why didn't you tell me yesterday that what you were looking for Jimmy for had to do with a killing?'
I wasn't sure of the answer to that. 'I didn't want to worry you, Ellie. How did you find out?'
'Sheriff Brinkman was here. He's going to call Chucky in North Carolina.'
'I thought you said Chuck was at sea.'
'Well, sure. And I suppose Sheriff Brinkman will find that out, sooner or later.'
She grinned and I grinned back. 'They have telephones on ships now, Ellie.'
'Hon, I called him myself last week, for his birthday. You wouldn't believe the red tape before they let you call a ship at sea.' She poured me a cup of coffee.
'Thanks.' I tasted it. Not as good as Eve Colgate's, or mine; but still better than the 7-Eleven's. I was getting to be an expert. 'Did Brinkman ask you anything about Alice, or the blond girl you told me about?'
'No. I don't think he knows about either of them. And Chucky won't tell him.'
'I know he won't. Listen, Ellie, try this: Tony says Alice's last name is Brown, and that she bakes. It sounds to me as though she may do it for a living. If you were ordering desserts for the diner, where would you get them from?'
'What, this place? Ralph would kill you if he heard that.' She pointed to a sign over the glass-shelved pie cabinet behind her: All Baking Done On Premises.
'Okay,' I said. 'But what if?'
She compressed her lips in thought. 'I don't know. You want to talk to Ralph? He's here.'
Ralph Helfgott owned and cooked at the Park View. He was a large soft man with the look of a hard man gone to seed. The blue tattoos on his forearms were blurred and his white hair was unkempt and wispy. He followed Ellie out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the apron that surrounded him.
'How're you doing?' he asked, shaking my hand. 'Haven't seen you around in a while.'
'Haven't been up. Finally got so I couldn't stay away from Ellie another day, so I came back.'
He put a thick arm around her. 'That's my girl you're talking about.'
She pulled away grinning, slapped his arm lightly. 'Knock it off, Ralph. Bill wants to ask you something important.'
Ralph leaned over the counter, spoke confidentially to me. 'She don't know yet how crazy she is about me. But I got time, I can wait.' He slipped his hand below the counter, pinched Ellie's rear. She let out a squeak, slapped him again. He straightened up and looked at me out of choir-boy eyes. 'What can I do for you?'
I told him what I wanted to know, but not why. He massaged his chins. 'Desserts? Baked goods, you mean?'
'Fancy ones, I hear. And good.'
'Well, there's really no place around that's any good. There's Glauber's, and there's Hilltop, over in Cobleskill. But they're both pretty lousy. That's why I do my own. There's nothing worse than serving a customer a soggy pie, you know,' he said earnestly. 'Except wait a minute. There is a new place. I got a brochure or something. Wait, let me think.' He rubbed the stubble on his chins again with a hand like a rubber bath toy. 'Yeah. Some girl called me. About six, eight months ago, I don't know. A new bakery, commercial, but small. I told her no thanks, but she asked if she could send me a brochure anyway. Of course, I don't know if they're any good.'
