“When you break into my office, all bets’re off.”
He had his elbows planted hard onto the surface of my desk. “You just like to rile me, don’t you, counselor?”
I sighed. “Get to it. What the hell’re you doing here?”
“Ok then,” he said, and extracted from his lips the wet cigar butt. “You been botherin’ a friend of mine.”
“That being David Squires.”
“Then you admit it?”
“I don’t admit anything.” Then: “He tell you he hired me?”
“What’re you talkin’ about? Why would Squires hire you?”
“Because he killed his wife. And he thought maybe he might have left a couple of loose ends. Maybe a witness, or something dropped at the scene of the crime. He knew you’d be too stupid to figure it out so he hired me.”
“Bullshit. He arranged for me to get that Lawman of the Year award last year from the Skeet Shooters Association over to Fort Madison.”
“He was kissing your ass, Cliffie. You can help him. If you couldn’t, he wouldn’t even speak to you.”
Cliffie was angry and hurt and confused.
“Well, you can bet your ass I’m gonna ask him about that. About him hirin’ you.”
He looked pretty bad just then, Cliffie did. Knowing you’ve been betrayed will do that to a person. Just saps all your strength and focus.
He said, like a kid, “He really hired you?”
Somehow I couldn’t take any more pleasure from hurting him. “It wasn’t anything really big.”
“I mean, you don’t get Lawman of the Year award unless them fellas really think you’re doin’ your job.”
“I expect not.”
Then, trying to regain some dignity, he said, “But Chalmers was the one what killed her, that Squires girl.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t have proof yet, but I think I will have pretty soon. So before you arrest Chalmers, I’d appreciate it if you’d call me first.”
He stood up. Rage had replaced hurt in those dog-brown dog-stupid eyes of his.
“We’ll see how Mr. Fancy Squires likes it next time he wants a favor done and stupid ol’ me tells him no.”
“That’s right. You’ve got to stand up for yourself.”
“Just because I ain’t educated.”
“Right.”
“And just because I ain’t pretty like him.”
“Right.”
“And just because I got this here skin condition and can’t bathe often as I should.”
“Right.”
“And just because people think the only reason I got this job is because my old man runs the town.”
“Right.”
“Well, I’ll show Mr. Fancy.”
“Damn right you will, Cliff. Damn right you will.”
For just a moment there, I almost felt sorry for him. I almost forgot about the many times he’d billy-clubbed me and punched me and kicked me, just in the line of duty as he saw it, and the many times he’d cheated and railroaded and framed my clients. For a moment, I forgave him all of it. And then, being Cliffie, he had to go and disabuse me of my Christian charity.
“Chalmers is the man, McCain.”
“He didn’t have any reason to kill her.”
“He hates Squires.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Well, I guess that’s a good point. But he’s also an ex-con.”
“So that automatically makes him the killer?”
“McCain, I’ve read a lot about ex-cons. Hell, let’s face it, my family’s got a lot of ex-cons in it. Our family reunion looks like a prison yard.”
He walked to the door.
“I’m gonna be one busy boy, McCain.
First I’m gonna meet up with our friend Squires and tell him what I think of him; then I’m gonna go arrest Chalmers. You can take that as fair warning.”
A minute later, he fired up his Indian and was gone.
The phone rang a few minutes later.
Dick Keys.
“Any word on Mary yet?”
“Not yet, Dick. Thanks for asking.”
“She’s sure a sweetheart. You give her folks my best.”
“I sure will.”
Hesitation. “I’m kind’ve embarrassed about somethin’, McCain.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I’ve got this employee, Merle
Ramsdale? He served a little time for taking a car a few years ago, but I hired him here as a mechanic and he’s been a real good employee.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” What was he getting at?
“He was here Friday night, too, and he saw somethin’, and he shoulda stepped up to the plate before this. But you know how it is when you’re out on parole.
You don’t want to get involved in anything you don’t have to.”
“What’d he see?”
“I’ll let him tell you. He’s standin’ right here.” Then he said, “Just tell him what you told me, Merle, and everything’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that killing, Mr. Keys.”
“I know you didn’t, Merle.”
“People think just because you’ve been in prison-”
“Just talk to Mr. McCain, Merle. He’s a nice young lawyer.”
The phone was handed off and Merle Ramsdale said, “Hi, Mr. McCain.”
“Hi, Merle. I really appreciate you doing this.”
“I just don’t want the parole office to think I had anything to do with the murder.”
“I’m sure they won’t, Merle. Just relax and tell me what you saw.”
“Well, I stepped outside to have a cigarette. It was a nice night and I’d been puttin’ in a lot of hours and I just thought some fresh air would do me good. And that’s when I saw him, when I was outside having a smoke.”
“Saw who?”
“The big guy.”
“What’d he look like?”
“Well, as I said, a big guy. Like a basketball player. But heavier. Stronger.”
“You notice anything else about him? Kind of clothes he was wearing?”
“Dark jacket of some kind. Zipper, I think. And dark pants. Nothing that really stood out.”
“Anything else?”
“His hair. There was a whole lot of it.
Curly.”
“The color?”
“I think it was red. It was dark. He was over in the shadows. Back by the used cars.”
