The Jugger

He couldn't afford to have Charles Willis connected up with Ronald Casper, the two names meeting in the middle at Parker. Somehow he had to come out of this with the Willis name still safe.

If he'd known Joe was dead, known there would be this trouble, he wouldn't have used the Willis name in the first place. If he'd known what it was going to be like, he wouldn't have come in here at all.

Waiting for Younger, waiting to find out how much new trouble this phone call meant, he tried to work out how to keep the Willis name safe if worse came to worst. He'd have to get rid of Younger, and Gliffe and Rayborn too, cover himself somehow with the hotel reservations, get back to Miami double-quick, and work up some sort of alibi placing him there the whole time. It would be complicated, and it would all have to be done fast. But he believed it could be done; the necessary can always be done.

Over there on the phone, Younger was saying, 'I'll be right there. And leave the state boys out of this one, we'll do it ourselves.'

Parker lit a cigarette and shifted forward on the sofa so he could get to his feet faster if he had to.

Younger hung up the phone and turned to look at Parker. He was frowning again, looking baffled. 'All right,' he said. 'Maybe you're right.'

'Right about what?'

'Things I don't know, things I got to find out.'

Parker watched him, wondering what had happened to change Younger this way.

Younger said, 'They just found your partner clubbed to death, it looks like with a shovel.' He nodded. 'In your hotel room,' he said.

'My room?'

'That's what I say.' Younger looked down at the gun in his hand as though he'd never seen it before. He shook his head and tucked the gun away inside his coat. 'Come on. Let's go see him.'

TWO

THE room was full of law. Apparently somebody on Younger's force had invited the state police to attend after all; the pack of technical men, with their cameras and chalk, powders and notebooks and little white envelopes, all seemed too professional, too sleek, too quiet and efficient to be any part of the local law.

The local law was three dough-faced farm hands in rumpled blue uniforms, standing around the room looking for traffic to direct.

Parker stood there near the door and watched. When they'd come in, Younger had looked at the pros at work, had cursed under his breath, and had told Parker. 'You wait right there. Don't talk to nobody.' Now he was across the room talking to the guy who must be in charge of the state men; a tall, straight, strong-looking guy with a grey crewcut and a professor's face.

Parker watched and waited. From where he was standing, he could see Tiftus on the floor next to the bed. He wasn't much to look at. He'd been turned away, so the shovel – or whatever the guy had used – had hit him on the back of the head, cracking his skull like so many pieces of egg shell. He'd fallen on his face, blood and hair had mixed together to make a little thatched roof on the back of his head, and he'd died.

The technicians worked around him now as though they expected to launch him into space.

Across the room, Younger wasn't being happy. He was trying to argue, but he wasn't winning. The state man was being polite but firm, and Parker could see that Younger didn't stand a chance.

Younger saw it too, after a while; and gave up. He came back over to Parker and said, 'We got to talk.'

'We do?'

'Out in the hall'

Parker knew it was a dumb move, but this was Younger's party right now. He followed Younger out to the hall, feeling the state man's eyes on his back all the way.

In the hall, down a way from the door, Younger turned and standing close to the wall, said, 'You're in the clear on killing him.'

'And?'

'With me,' Younger said, 'I know you're in the clear. They don't.'

'Why not?'

Younger was taking some satisfaction from this exchange, evening the score for losing with the state man. He took his time. 'They know when he was killed. Within half an hour they know it. I was already with you then. I'm your alibi.'

Parker said, 'And I'm yours.'

Younger was surprised. 'Mine? What the hell do I need with an alibi?'

'You're looking for something, and so was Tiftus.'

'And so are you, God damn it.'

Parker shrugged.

Younger said, 'We don't have much time, Willis, don't waste it with a lot of crap. I'm your alibi, that's the point, I'm your alibi if I want to be. If I don't want to be, you've had it.'