Tube of toothpaste and a belt, for me personally. My best belt had got chewed by a porcupine when I-but that's a long story.
A magnifying glass and a notebook that would go in my hip pockety for me professionally. On a job in New York I never go on an errand without those two articles, and I was on a job now. Probably I wouldn't have any use for them, but a habit is a habit. Psychology.
My last stop was the public library, to consult a book that probably wouldn't be there, but it was- Who's Who in America. Not the latest, 1968-1969, but the 1966-67 was good enough. There was no entry for Philip Brodell, and there never would be since he was now a corpse, but his father, Edward Ellis Brodell, had about a third of a column. I knew he was still alive, having exchanged some words with him a week ago, when he had come to gather facts and raise some hell and get his son's body to take home. Born in St. Louis in 1907, he had done all right and was now the owner and publisher of the St. Louis Star-Bulletin. Who's Who had no information about who was going to kill his son.
With all my purchases in the big paper bag I had requested for the fly swatters, I wasn't much encumbered when I entered the Continental Cafй at a quarter past noon, sent my eyes around, spotted an attractive female in an olive-green shirt and dark green slacks at a table in the rear, and headed for her. When I got there and pulled a chair back she said, 'Either you're pretty fast or you didn't finish your list.'
'Got everything.' I sat and put the bag on the floor. 'I may not be fast but I'm lucky.' I tipped my head at her martini glass. 'Carson's?'
'No. They haven't got any. You can't tell me gins are all alike. There's split-pea soup.'
That was good news because his split-pea soup was the one dish the Continental cook had a right to be proud of. A waitress came and took our order for two double bowls of soup, plenty of crackers, one milk, and one coffee, and while we were waiting for it I fished in the bag for the belt and the magnifying glass to show Lily that Timberburg was as good as New York when you needed things.
The soup was up to expectations. When our bowls were nearly empty and the crackers low I said, 'I not only finished up my list, I dug up some facts. At the library in Who's Who. Philip Brodell's father's father's name was Amos. His father is a member of three clubs, and his father's wife's maiden name was Mitchell. That's a break. Real progress.'
'Congratulations.' She took a cracker. 'Let's go and tell Jessup. You're the doctor, but how could Who's Who possibly have helped?'
'It couldn't. But when you're up a stump you always try things that can't help and about once a year one does.' I swallowed the last spoonful of soup. 'I've got to say something.'
'Good. Like?'
'Like it is. Look, Lily. I'm a good investigator with a lot of experience. But this is the sixth day since Harvey was charged and I have got nowhere. Not a glimmer of a lead. I may be only half as smart as I think I am, but also I'm handicapped. I don't belong here. I'm a dude. I'm all right for things like packing in or fishing or a game of pinochle or even a dance at the hall, but this is murder, and I'm a dude. Hell, I've been out here a lot, and I've known Mel Fox for years, and even he has gone cagey on me. They all have. I'm a goddam dude. There must be private detectives in Helena, and there may be a good one. A native. Dawson would know.'
She put her coffee cup down. 'You're suggesting that I hire a native to help you.'
'Not to help me. If he's any good he wouldn't help me. He would just go to work.'
'Oh.' Her blue eyes widened and fastened on me. 'You're checking out.'
'I am not. In the letter I just mailed to Mr Wolfe I said I hoped to be back for the World Series. I'm staying and making motions, but damn it, I'm handicapped. I'm only suggesting that maybe you should ask Dawson.'
'Escamillo.' Her eyes had relaxed and were smiling. 'Now really. Aren't you the second-best detective in the world?'
'Oh, sure. In my world, but this isn't it. Even Dawson, haven't you noticed? You've paid him a ten- grand retainer, but how does he take me? You must have noticed.'
She nodded. 'It's one of the milder forms of xenophobia. You're a dude, and I'm a dudine.'
'You own a ranch. That's different.'
'Well.' She picked up her coffee cup, looked in it, decided it was too cool, and put it down. 'It's too bad Harvey can't be bailed out, but Mel can handle it-for a while. How much time have we got?'
'Until Harvey's tried and convicted, apparently two or three months, from what Jessup says.'
'And it's two months to the World Series. You know, Archie, what I think of you personally has nothing to do with this. Not only are you a better detective than any native would be, but also you know darned well Harvey didn't shoot a man in the back. But after a week or two of nosing around, the native would probably think he did. Dawson does. Admit I'm right.'
'You're always right sometimes.'
'Then may I have some hot coffee?' My milk glass was empty, so I had coffee too. When we had finished it and I had paid the check, we left, and as we made our way through the clutter of tables and chairs about twenty pairs of eyes followed us, and about twenty other pairs pretended not to. Monroe County was pretty worked up about the murder of Philip Brodell. Its basic attitude to dudes was no help in bringing on the brotherhood of man, but after all, they brought a lot of dough to Montana and left it there, and shooting them when they were picking huckleberries was not to be encouraged. So the eyes at Lily and me weren't very friendly; it was her ranch boss that had pulled the trigger. So it looked to them.
At the parking lot behind the cafй I put my bag in the back of Lily's station wagon, among the items she had had on her list, before I got in behind the wheel. She was sitting straight so her back wouldn't touch the seat back, which the slanting August sun had been trying to fry. My side was okay. I backed out from the slot. On a list of the differences between Lily and me it would be near the top that I park so I won't have to back out when I
