you.”
“I don't want to put you out,” I said, full of suspicion again.
“I haven't anything else to do, and I know the countryside. But there's one condition: if you don't find anything to definitely prove mat Pops is gone, what I mean is, if you're not absolutely sure, one way or the other, I want you to go to Chief Roberts, have him ask to see Pops.”
“I'll buy that,” I said, my suspicions melting—a little. “What time do we start?”
“Larry is usually at Patchogue by five a.m. Sometimes when I'm too nervous to sleep I take long rides during the early morning hours, before going to work. I enjoy driving in the dawn fogs. I often see him leave his house at four A.M. That's when we should start, too.”
“Good,” I said, getting up, thinking of the dizzy young thing in the Hampton watch factory. Driving seemed to be a psychiatrist's couch out here. “I'll call for you at three-thirty.”
Jane got up slowly, seemed to stretch. “It will save time if I pick you up in front of your cottage.”
“Okay. I live at—”
“I know where you live, Mr. Lund.”
I said that would be fine and stopped to look at her painting again. Standing beside me, she asked, “Would you like to have it?”
“Well... I'd like to buy it,” I said as if I bought paintings every day. “How much?”
“That's being silly. If you want it, I'll give it to you.”
“I do want it. Thank you.”
“It should be dry in a day or two. I'll have it framed and ready before you leave the Harbor. I'm glad you want one of my works.”
Walking back to the cottage I was confused. For no reason except my instinct, which I didn't trust, I was taking Jane into my confidence. But I didn't like the business of her going with me, began to doubt who was actually tailing who. And it was odd she knew where I lived. Still, it was a small village, she would know... maybe.
It was after eleven and I stopped at the Johnsons to tell Bessie I'd spend the night in her cottage. Mr. Johnson was playing solitaire on the kitchen table, said, “Bessie and Andy went home about an hour ago. It's all right, their....”
I ran out of the house and sprinted for the cottage as if I were a kid. I came busting into the place, puffing like a whale and there was Danny grinning nervously at me. I fell into a chair as I tried to ask, “What are you doing here?”
“Take it slow, Matt. Man your age shouldn't be racing down the street. Anybody chasing you?” I noticed he had the kid's baseball bat leaning against a chain.
I shook my head. “Where's Bessie and Andy?”
“Sleeping. They've had a big day. I happened to got some time off, thought I'd make it a long week end, be with you.”
“Cut the slop, Danny, Bessie phoned you to come.”
He came over and sat on the arm of my chair. “Yes. She's worried about you, Matt. Dad, I've always looked up to you as a man with plenty of good old common sense— so tell me one thing and I'll be quiet—are you sure you're not going off the deep end on Matty's death?”
“Matty's death got me angry but it didn't make me hysterical, if that's what you mean. I'm not going off half-cocked. Before I was kind of playing at solving this murder, now I'm serious. I think I know what I'm doing.”
He slapped me on the back lightly. “Okay, Dad. What can I do to help you?”
“Stay with Bessie and Andy every minute of the day tomorrow. Don't frighten them, go to the beach and all the other things you usually do, but don't let them out of your sight. Having that bat around isn't a bad idea, either. I'm going to set the alarm and sleep on the porch because I have to be up in a few hours. I'll be gone most of tomorrow.”
He wanted to ask where I was going, but didn't He pointed at my clothes. “Been in a fight?”
“Nope, merely crawling on the grass. Now stop worrying. Tomorrow I'm only going riding, to see some of the other towns. With a woman. No danger.”
“This Indian sex-boat Bessie told me about?”
“Sex-boat? I ought to fan Bessie's.... Go to sleep, Dan, and let me work things out in my own way.”
“Hungry? I have tea on and....”
“Where did you find food here?” I shouted.
“Easy, Dad. Bessie told me over the phone that you'd thrown out everything, so I brought some down with me. Hungry?”
I nodded.
I washed up, had a cup of tea and a few sandwiches, made up the porch cot, set the alarm. I didn't need a clock to wake me—I never went to sleep. I listened to the country noises, and thought of nothing and everything. I was bushed but my mind kept spinning like a top. Mostly I lay there waiting—waiting for something to happen. I had this feeling I was in way over my head, had dragged Dan and his family in, too. I wanted bullets for my gun, I wanted Roberts at least working with me... and most of all, I wished I was back in the precinct, had the platoon with me.
In the quiet I couldn't kid myself any longer—as a cop I didn't have much confidence in me. I was goddamn frightened.
Chapter 7
I got up at three and turned off the alarm. I must have slept a few winks, I felt rested, although my mind was still down in the dumps. I washed and shaved, careful not to make any noise. When I came out of the bathroom I found Bessie at the stove. She had a robe over her baby-dolls, but the robe was open and gave her a very
“What are you doing up?”
“I've always been a light sleeper. Danny and Andy— take a bomb to wake them.”
“What did you have to send for Dan for?”
“You have me worried, Matt. Danny says you're going out with this Jane Endin today. Any danger?”
I laughed. “That's what you've wanted, me to take her out. No danger, we're merely going around and asking a few questions.”
“So early in the morning?”
“Okay, take me off the witness stand. Can you make some of that thick Turkish coffee? It will stay with me awhile.”
“Certainly. How about toast, eggs?”
“Just coffee.”
I went into my room and watching the sleeping boy, I hid my empty gun. The kid had a big knife in his fishing box, but I didn't know much about using a knife.
I was sipping a tiny cup of the thick, soupy coffee when a car pulled up outside. I went out and asked Jane if she wanted coffee. The dim light from the dashboard hit the planes of her face at an odd angle, making it look like a long soft mask. She was wearing slacks, a tight white blouse with a big jade pin at the neck, and a short suede jacket. The tightness of the blouse said she was a bigger woman than I'd imagined. She hesitated, then said she would take a cup. We walked to the house and I introduced her to Bessie—for a second they looked each other over like pugs listening to the ref's instructions. Jane drank her coffee in silence, and drank it fast. Then she stood up, told Bessie, “I never had anything like that before. It's very good. Thank you.” She turned to me. “It's getting late.” She walked toward the door, the odd, stiff-legged walk, her thick braid doing a saucy dance on her back.
I put on Danny's too-big windbreaker, told Bessie I'd probably be back in the afternoon but not to worry if it was later. Bessie put her lips to my ear and whispered a single word:
“Wow!”
As we drove toward Riverside and Patchogue the sky was bright with pale stars and the road spotted with fog pockets. Jane was a good driver, real good. After a while she said, “Your daughter-in-law is a very attractive woman. It must be a joy to have children, visit with them.”
“I don't know. After kids grow up they should stay out of their parents' way, and vice versa. I don't think they want to be bothered with an old man. And I didn't want to come out here. I have a better time alone in the city.”
“That's a strange thing to say.”
“Why? I'm old, set in my ways, and I know it. Next week I have to go up to the mountains to see my daughter Signe and her kids. It's a routine. Another crowded, noisy cottage. I won't get any rest there and neither will Signe.”
“The fortunate are not always aware of their fortune.”
I didn't know if that was supposed to be an old Indian saying or not, and didn't ask. “Shouldn't we see if Anderson has pulled out with his truck?”
“He's left. We'll pick him up at Patchogue. He never makes any stops until he starts back. He'll return to the Harbor by nine, then take out his station wagon to deliver the mail. About ten-thirty he'll pick up his truck, head out toward Montauk.”
My mind began to wrinkle with doubts as I wondered how often Jane had tailed Anderson before—or driven with him?
“That was an odd coffee Mrs. Lund served. I hear she makes an interesting wine pudding.”
I turned and stared at her. “How did you know that?”
“Just heard it.”
“Hasn't anybody in the Harbor anything to do but snoop on...?” I saw her face tighten up and added. “What I mean, exactly how does this village gossip work?”
“Very simple. Mrs. Lund asked Charley, who has the store as you turn into Main
