coffee, plus sugar and milk. Four danish pastries.
Morton was only a brief time in the bathroom, and when he came out he was wearing his own wrinkled but dry clothing, and carrying Grofield's over his arm. They ate together, and Morton suggested a couple of times that he throw in with Grofield against Myers, and Grofield thanked him and declined. Morton said, 'So what do you do with me?'
'I keep you around till I'm finished. Just in case in your heart of hearts you'd like to warn Myers. Or go after him yourself.'
'All I want,' Morton said, 'is to be in some other state.'
'You will be. Later.'
Grofield had already paid his bill while he was out. Now, after breakfast, he finished packing and told Morton, 'We'll go out together. You'll sit in front. I'll drive. If you're a clown, you'll do something to make me shoot you.'
'I'm not a clown,' Morton promised.
'I hope not,' Grofield said. 'I'll tell you something. I've fired guns in public before, and if you only fire one shot nobody ever comes to find out what it is. They think it's a backfire, or something unimportant. You've got to shoot three or four times before anybody even stops what they're doing to listen.'
'I'm not going to try anything,' Morton said. 'You could have killed me last night when you were done asking me questions. You didn't, so I know you won't kill me now, not if I don't give you cause. So I'll just do like you say, and when you tell me I can leave I'll leave.'
'That's very smart, Perry,' Grofield said.
'I'm new,' Morton said, 'but I'm a quick study.'
'I can see that.'
They left the room and went out to the Chevy. Grofield put his suitcase on the back seat, he and Morton got in front, and he drove away from there, heading for the barn where he'd last seen the Rolls Royce.
It was nearly one thirty when they reached the barn. Morton said, 'Is that it?'
'That's it. The Rolls is inside.'
'That Myers,' Morton said. 'He's really something.'
'Not for long.'
Grofield braked almost to a stop. A driveway went up to the left, toward the burned-out house; originally, there'd been an attached garage. Grofield made the turn into the driveway, drove up it, angled off onto shaggy lawn, and drove around the house to where a swing and a slide showed that children had lived in this house once. Grofield pulled to a stop behind the section of the house that was still jutting up the highest – bits of wall and upended beams not much higher than a man. But enough of it to hide the Chevy from the road.
'Last stop,' Grofield said. 'Everybody off.'
They both got out of the car, and Grofield got the length of clothesline from the floor in back. Morton, seeing him come around the car with it, said, 'What's that for?'
'To keep you safe while I'm busy.'
'You don't have to tie me up.'
'Yes, I do, if I don't want to distract myself. Come on, Perry, don't get difficult. We've got a nice relationship going.'
'I don't want to get tied up!'
'Perry, it'll be worse if I have to hit you with the gun butt.'
'Tell me what you're going to do.'
Grofield pointed to some trees farther up the hill behind the house. 'Tie you to one of those. I'll come back and let you loose again afterward.'
'I don't like that,' Morton said. His eyes were wide, and his voice had started trembling again.
'It won't be for long. Maybe an hour. And you're dressed nice and warm now, with your raincoat and all. Come on, Perry, don't make things tough for yourself.'
'I just don't like it, that's all,' Morton said, but there was no fight in him now, and when Grofield took the Terrier out of his pocket and gestured with it, Morton went grudgingly on up the hill.
The trees were old, not very tall, but very thick in the trunk. Grofield tied a knot around one of Morton's wrists, then pulled the rope partway around the tree and tied his other wrist. When he was done, Morton was standing with his arms around the tree as though embracing it. The trunk was too thick for him to get his arms all the way around it, and the foot or so between his wrists was where the clothesline was stretched across.
'I've got to stand here like this?'
'It won't be long,' Grofield promised again. 'I'll come back up when I'm finished with Myers.'
'Good Christ!' Morton cried, turning his head, craning his neck so he could see Grofield. 'What if you lose?'
'Then I'd say you're probably in trouble,' Grofield told him.
6
