saw this killer come slamming down the back steps into the Buick and off. I took out after him. He hit the bottom of the canyon and went west on Sunset. Beyond Beverly Hills he skidded off the road and had to stop and I came up and played copper. He had a gun but his nerve was bad and I sapped him down. So I went through his clothes and found out who he was and I lifted the plateholder, just out of curiosity. I was wondering what it was all about and getting my neck wet when he came out of it all of a sudden and knocked me off the car. He was out of sight when I picked myself up. That's the last I saw of him.'
'How did you know it was Geiger he shot?' I asked gruffly.
Brody shrugged. 'I figure it was, but I can be wrong. When I had the plate developed and saw what was on it, I was pretty damn sure. And when Geiger didn't come down to the store this morning and didn't answer his phone I was plenty sure. So I figure it's a good time to move his books out and make a quick touch on the Sternwoods for travel money and blow for a while.'
I nodded. 'That seems reasonable. Maybe you didn't murder anybody at that. Where did you hide Geiger's body?'
He jumped his eyebrows. Then he grinned. 'Nix, nix. Skip it. You think I'd go back there and handle him, not knowing when a couple carloads of law would come tearing around the corner? Nix.'
'Somebody hid the body,' I said.
Brody shrugged. The grin stayed on his face. He didn't believe me. While he was still not believing me the door buzzer started to ring again. Brody stood up sharply, hard-eyed. He glanced over at his guns on the desk.
'So she's back again,' he growled.
'If she is, she doesn't have her guns!' I comforted him. 'Don't you have any other friends?'
'Just about one,' he growled. 'I got enough of this puss in the corner game.' He marched to the desk and took the Colt. He held it down at his side and went to the door. He put his left hand to the knob and twisted it and opened the door a foot and leaned into the opening, holding the gun tight against his thigh.
A voice said: 'Brody?'
Brody said something I didn't hear. The two quick reports were muffled. The gun must have been pressed tight against Brody's body. He tilted forward against the door and the weight of his body pushed it shut with a bang. He slid down the wood. His feet pushed the carpet away behind him. His left hand dropped off the knob and the arm slapped the floor with a thud. His head was wedged against the door. He didn't move. The Colt clung to his right hand.
I jumped across the room and rolled him enough to get the door open and crowd through. A woman peered out of a door almost opposite. Her face was full of fright and she pointed along the hall with a clawlike hand.
I raced down the hall and heard thumping feet going down the tile steps and went down after the sound. At the lobby level the front door was closing itself quietly and running feet slapped the sidewalk outside. I made the door before it was shut, clawed it open again and charged out. A tall hatless figure in a leather jerkin was running diagonally across the street between the parked cars. The figure turned and flame spurted from it. Two heavy hammers hit the stucco wall beside me. The figure ran on, dodged between two cars, vanished.
A man came up beside me and barked: 'What happened?'
'Shooting going on,' I said.
'Jesus!' He scuttled into the apartment house.
I walked quickly down the sidewalk to my car and got in and started it. I pulled out from the curb and drove down the hill, not fast. No other car started up on the other side of the street. I thought I heard steps, but I wasn't sure about that. I rode down the hill a block and a half, turned at the intersection and started back up. The sound of a muted whistling came to me faintly along the sidewalk. Then steps. I double parked and slid out between two cars and went down low. I took Carmen's little revolver out of my pocket.
The sound of the steps grew louder, and the whistling went on cheerfully. In a moment the jerkin showed. I stepped out between the two cars and said: 'Got a match, buddy?'
The boy spun towards me and his right hand darted up to go inside the jerkin. His eyes were a wet shine in the glow of the round electroliers. Moist dark eyes shaped like almonds, and a pallid handsome face with wavy black hair growing low on the forehead in two points. A very handsome boy indeed, the boy from Geiger's store.
He stood there looking at me silently, his right hand on the edge of the jerkin, but not inside it yet. I held the little revolver down at my side.
'You must have thought a lot of that queen,' I said.
'Go — — yourself,' the boy said softly, motionless between the parked cars and the five-foot retaining wall on the inside of the sidewalk.
A siren wailed distantly coming up the long hill. The boy's head jerked towards the sound. I stepped in close and put my gun into his jerkin.
'Me or the cops?' I asked him.
His head rolled a little sideways as if I had slapped his face. 'Who are you?' he snarled.
'Friend of Geiger's.'
'Get away from me, you son of a bitch.'
'This is a small gun, kid. I'll give it you through the navel and it will take three months to get you well enough to walk. But you'll get well. So you can walk to the nice new gas chamber up in Quentin.'
He said: 'Go — — yourself.' His hand moved inside the jerkin. I pressed harder on his stomach. He let out a long soft sigh, took his hand away from the jerkin and let it fall limp at his side. His wide shoulders sagged. 'What you want?' he whispered.
I reached inside the jerkin and plucked out the automatic. 'Get into my car, kid.'
He stepped past me and I crowded him from behind. He got into the car.
'Under the wheel, kid. You drive.'
He slid under the wheel and I got into the car beside him. I said: 'Let the prowl car pass up the hill. They'll think we moved over when we heard the siren. Then turn her down hill and we'll go home.'
I put Carmen's gun away and leaned the automatic against the boy's ribs. I looked back through the window. The whine of the siren was very loud now. Two red lights swelled in the middle of the street. They grew larger and blended into one and the car rushed by in a wild flurry of sound.
'Let's go,' I said.
The boy swung the car and started off down the hill.
'Let's go home,' I said. 'To Laverne Terrace.'
His smooth lips twitched. He swung the car west on Franklin. 'You're a simple-minded lad. What's your name?'
'Carol Lundgren,' he said lifelessly.
'You shot the wrong guy, Carol. Joe Brody didn't kill your queen.'
He spoke three words to me and kept on driving.
17
A moon half gone from the full glowed through a ring of mist among the high branches of the eucalyptus trees on Laverne Terrace. A radio sounded loudly from a house low down the hill. The boy swung the car over to the box hedge in front of Geiger's house, killed the motor and sat looking straight before him with both hands on the wheel. No light showed through Geiger's hedge.
I said: 'Anybody home, son?'
'You ought to know.'
'How would I know.'
'Go — — yourself.'
'That's how people get false teeth.'
He showed me his in a tight grin. Then he kicked the door open and got out. I scuttled out after him. He stood with his fists on his hips, looking silently at the house above the top of the hedge.
'All right,' I said. 'You have a key. Let's go on in.'
'Who said I had a key?'
