Lemons Never Lie

'Hold on,' Grofield said. He sat up, a bit shaky. 'I'll come with you. I'd like to talk to those birds myself.'

'You're in no shape to go anywhere,' Dan said.

'There's two of them, there should be two of you. Give me five minutes.'

'Five minutes?' Dan was so impatient he was practically tapdancing.

'If they're gonna check out tonight,' Grofield said, 'they've done it by now. If they're gonna wait till morning, you can afford five minutes. Go get me some ice.'

'You wanna drink?'

'I want to put it on the back of my head,' Grofield said, patiently.

'Oh. Sure.'

Dan went out – the door made unhappy rending noises whenever it was moved – and Grofield went shakily into the bathroom to soak his head and grit his teeth.

6

Grofield opened the closet door and the wrestler smiled up at him with his slit throat. 'Here he is,' Grofield called, and Dan came in from the other room saying, 'Which one? Let me get my hands on him.'

Grofield stepped back, and Dan looked at the thing on the floor of the closet. 'Jesus,' he said.

'Your friend Myers,' Grofield said, 'is around the bend.'

'He cut his throat for six grand,' Dan said. He sounded awed.

'He was going to kill everybody in New York State for one-sixth of a hundred grand,' Grofield said.

'I can't believe he's so penny ante,' Dan said. He looked at Grofield and shook his head. 'That's what gets me. He was supposed to be such hot shit down there in Texas.'

Grofield said, 'He's left us a mess. You remember everything you touched?'

'Good Christ on a crutch!' Dan looked around. 'This room, the next room. I had a drink in there, when he was showing us all those pictures. We've all got prints scattered around in there.'

'Do a fast wipe,' Grofield said. 'That's all we have time for.'

'Maybe what we want is a fire.'

'No. It would just call attention to this room earlier than necessary, and it wouldn't destroy things like doorknobs.'

Dan was still agitated. He looked at the thing in the closet again and said, 'Maybe we oughta move him. Carry him out like he's drunk, dump him somewheres.'

'Forget it, Dan,' Grofield said. He went over to the bed and pulled a pillowcase off its pillow. 'He's all over blood,' he said. 'Here, catch.' He tossed the crumpled pillowcase, and turned away to reach for the other pillow before waiting to see if Dan had caught it or not. 'We'll wipe the place down,' he said, shaking the pillow out. 'That's all we have time for.'

'All right,' Dan said. He sounded doubtful, but willing to be led.

They spent the next five minutes wiping hard surfaces in the two rooms. Myers had cleared out with his goods, including the suitcase full of maps and photos and graphs. Grofield, wiping glasses, said, 'You think he still means to pull that factory job?'

'He doesn't have time,' Dan said. He sounded grim.

The last thing they wiped was the inside doorknob. Out in the hall, Grofield wiped the outside doorknob with his jacket sleeve, and the two of them walked down to the elevators.

'I hate it that I have to go after that bastard,' Dan said. 'I got other things to do with my life.'

'Then let it ride,' Grofield said. 'If you ever meet up with him again, you'll take care of things. If not, it didn't cost you anything.'

'Over twelve grand.'

'I don't count gambling winnings as money,' Grofield said, and shrugged. They'd reached the elevators; he pushed the down button.

'I count money as money,' Dan said.

'I guess I don't blame you,' Grofield admitted.

The elevator came. It had three passengers already, so they didn't talk any more until they reached the main floor.

Walking around toward the lobby, Dan said, 'You remember the names of any of those other guys?'

'Up with Myers? Bob Frith, George Cathcart, Matt Hanto.'

'Wait a second.' Dan brought out a ballpoint pen and a crumpled envelope. Grofield repeated the names, and Dan wrote them down. He put the pen and envelope away and said, 'You know any of them from anywhere?'