'And who decides if he has to?' Ohls said.
I shrugged. 'We work it out,' I said.
'Sure we do,' Ohls said. He took the toy cigar out of his mouth and looked at it quietly for a moment, then dropped it on the floor and ground it out with his foot.
'Stay in touch,' Ohls said and turned and went back into the office. I looked after him for a minute and couldn't see any space in there for me. So I left.
16
I went down Western and west on Santa Monica Boulevard with my foot heavy on the gas pedal. It wouldn't take the buttons very long to find out where Larry Victor lived, and then somebody would cruise down there and pick him up. I wanted to get there first, and I wasn't sure exactly why. I made it to Venice Beach in 25 minutes and my right leg was a little shaky when I finally took it off the gas pedal and climbed out of the Olds behind Victor's beachfront house. There was no squad car in sight. I went around in front of the beach house and in through the patio and knocked on the sliding glass door. The dark-haired young woman I'd seen with Victor before came to the door and slid it a short way open.
'Yes?'
'Marlowe,' I said. 'I need to see Larry Victor quick.'
She smiled and slid the door wider.
'Come in, Mr. Marlowe,' she said. 'Larry's fixing us drinks in the kitchen. Would you like one?'
'In a minute we'll all need one,' I said. 'Tell Larry it's urgent.'
As I spoke Victor came out of the kitchen with a pitcher and two glasses. He looked at me.
'What the hell do you want?' he said.
'I can't take time to explain,' I said. 'You'll have to take my word. There's a dead woman in your office, Victor, and the cops are on the way.'
Angel's eyes widened. Victor said, 'A dead woman?'
I said, 'Come on, get in my car. Angel, tell the cops you don't know where he is.' Everyone stood stock still. I took Victor's arm.
'It's me or a long night downtown,' I said. 'Angel, dump the glass and drinks. We'll be back.'
I pulled Victor with me and went out the front door.
'Larry,' Angel yelled after us, 'call me.'
'Get rid of the two glasses,' I said. Then I had Victor in my car and we were rolling out onto Lincoln Ave and onto Venice Boulevard, heading east.
'What the hell is this, Marlowe?' Victor said. I offered him a cigarette. He took it and lit it from the lighter in my dashboard. The car filled with the srnell that cigarettes only smell when you light them with a car lighter.
He took in a deep inhale and let it out in two streams through his nostrils.
'Okay,' he said, 'what's going on?'
I told him, all of it.
'I didn't kill her,' Victor said. 'I don't even know what she was doing in my office.'
'But you knew her,' I said.
'The hell you say.'
'She was the blonde you had a fight with the other day in Reno's Bar,' I said.
Victor stared at me for a moment. His mouth opened and closed like a tropical fish.
'How'd you…' he said and let it hang.
'I followed you,' I said.
'Followed me?'
'Try not to say everything I say. I followed you to Reno's, and then I followed you home. Is Angel your wife?'
'Yes,' he said.
'And is Muriel Valentine your wife?'
'Muriel Valentine?'
'I told you not to do that,' I said.
'Who's Muriel Valentine?'
'Les Valentine's wife,' I said. 'I saw a picture of him in her house. If you put on your glasses and took off your rug you'd look just like him.'
He was silent for a moment, while he sucked on his cigarette. A long red coal began to form on the end, the way it does when several people pass one around. He shook his head and opened the window of my car and threw the glowing snipe out onto the pavement. A few sparks shook loose as we drove away from it. I could feel his stare.
'So what's the deal?' he said. His voice was heavy.
'Do I call you Larry or Les?' I said.
He didn't answer.
'You legally married to Angel?'
He still didn't answer.
'This is certainly pleasant,' I said, 'talking to myself. No smart guy remarks, no lies, just the soothing sound of my own questions.' I got the picture of Sondra Lee out of my inside pocket and slipped the band off and unrolled it with one hand while I drove. It was nothing compared to brain surgery.
'I assume when you took this she was just starting out,' I said. I handed the picture to him. He took it, still silent. Then he said, 'Jesus Christ, Marlowe.'
'So tell me about things,' I said.
Again he said, 'Jesus Christ.'
'Things fall apart,' I said. 'Murder does that. You have it all rolled up and folded away neat and then there's a murder and everything unravels.'
'What am I going to do?' Larry said.
'You're going to tell me what's going on,' I said. 'Maybe I can work something out.'
'The cops know about me?' he said.
'Not from me,' I said. 'When I left them they just had the corpse in your office.'
'I discovered the body.'
We were heading north now, on Sepulveda.
'You?'
'Stiff-a-minute Marlowe,' I said. 'I went there to talk with you about being Larry Victor and Les Valentine. I'll call you Larry around here. Door was open, she was there. In your chair. Somebody had shot her from close up with a small-caliber gun.'
'And you took that picture from my files?'
'No, I took it last time I was there. This time your files were empty.'
'No pictures?'
'No pictures,' I said.
'Got another cigarette?' he said.
I handed him the pack. On the right was a Von's Supermarket. The lot was full of station wagons and women and market carriages. I pulled off Sepulveda and parked in among them.
Victor had a cigarette going. He handed me back the pack and I put it on the dashboard.
'What's your racket, Marlowe? You a grifter?'
I shook my head.
'Private License,' I said. 'I was hired to find you.'
'Who? Muriel?'
'Lipshultz,' I said.
His eyes widened. 'Lippy?'
