“She didn’t take down the zip code,” Doug said idiotically.
“I don’t think I’ll need it.”
“Are you going out there?”
“God, no. Too dangerous. And not worthwhile, yet.” I copied down name and address on a scrap of paper, tucked it away in a pocket. “Mr. Russell J. Stone sounds very possible,” I said. “But there are other possibilities.”
“Like who?”
“Like an old boyfriend of hers whom I don’t think you know. Like a departmental colleague of mine whom, come to think of it, you do know. Whatever happened to Warren Hayden?”
“Hayden? You must be kidding.”
“I haven’t done any kidding in almost five years, Doug.”
“Well, why in hell would Warren Hayden-”
“Cam Welles got put out to pasture, didn’t he?”
“Oh, sure, Just a couple of months after you, uh-”
“You can say
“Just a few months after you went to jail, Cam Welles retired.”
“And Warren got the top spot?”
“Who else was there?”
“My point,” I said.
He stared incredulously at me. “Do you mean to suggest,” he said, “that for the sake of a department chairmanship, a meek little man like Warren Hayden would take a knife and-”
“Why not?”
“Alex-”
“God damn it,” I said, “at least it’s a reason, isn’t it? Everybody on earth is very goddamn willing to believe that I killed two girls for the sheer hell of it, with no reason at all. At least I’m talking about motives, I’m advancing some possibilities.” I lit another cigarette. “There was an old lag I knew, a trusty in for life. A murderer. You know why he was in there?”
“No.”
“He was playing cards with his best friend and he lost. And when he thought about it afterwards he decided that the friend must have cheated him, and that really got him mad. He waited two days and thought it out all very carefully, and then he went downtown and bought a shotgun, and then he went to the friend’s place and emptied both barrels in the friend’s face. Took most of his head off.”
“I don’t see-”
“You didn’t let me finish. You know how much he lost in that card game? You know the staggering sum that made him.
kill?
“Alex-”
“Fifteen cents, Doug.” I closed my eyes for a moment The human race is so imperfect an invention. “Fifteen cents. The chairmanship of the history department is worth a hell of a lot more than that.”
“I don’t think Warren Hayden would do anything like that.”
“Neither do I. But I’ll want to make sure.”
“I don’t even think he’s in town this year. I think he’s on sabbatical somewhere in South America. Peru, I think.”
“I’ll have to check. There are quite a few things I’ll have to check, Doug. It’s my life, you know.”
“Sure.”
I got up, pushed back my chair. We were uncomfortable with each other, Doug and I. I had gotten what I had come for, and we would each of us be glad to say goodbye.
“I’ll go now,” I told him. Thanks for the coffee, and the conversation. And Russell Stone.”
“Don’t go off half-cocked.”
“I won’t”
“Even if Gwen was having an affair, and I don’t believe it for a moment it doesn’t prove anything. Not by itself.”
“Maybe not.”
“So just take it easy.”
“Uh-huh.”
He walked me to the door. I’ve still got some money set aside for you. Want it?”
I said I did. I still had some money, but I felt I couldn’t have too much. There was little enough time, and I did not want to get hung up with money worries. He came back with two hundred dollars in tens and twenties.
“You’ll get this back,” I said.
“I expect to.”
He didn’t expect to. He was good enough to say so. He was my only friend in the world, and he didn’t really believe me, and I didn’t entirely trust him. It can be rather a lonely place, this world.
“Where can I get in touch with you?”
“No place. I’ve been sleeping in alleyways.”
“Is that safe?”
“No. I’ll find a hotel now. Maybe across the river in Jersey, I don’t know. I won’t be staying in any one place very long, I don’t suppose. Safer to keep moving.”
“Suppose something comes up?”
“Put a notice in the
“I wouldn’t want to use my own name. Kay would be furious-”
“Oh, Christ, of course not. Make up a name. Oh, Peter Porter, how’s that?
“Peter Porter and his wife Petunia.”
“Perfect. Easy for both of us to remember.”
“Uh-huh.”
We very awkwardly shook hands. He opened the door for me and waited with me for the elevator. It came, and we shook hands again, a little less awkwardly, and he went back to his apartment while I rode down to the lobby.
Peter Porter and his wife Petunia. Simpler to tell him the hotel where I was staying. But I still didn’t trust him, or anyone else.
10
ON THE SUBWAY RIDE BACK DOWNTOWN I TRIED TO THINK OF something clever to do with what was left of the night. Nothing suggested itself. The night gave me far greater freedom of movement, but one could neither drop in on people nor telephone them at that hour, so that I was left with the freedom to go anywhere and no place to go.
So I went back to my hotel and made more lists. Russell J. Stone. There had to be a way to find out something about him, but how? I would sleep on it. Warren Hayden-he did look out of the picture, it appearing highly unlikely that he would fly in from Peru, cut little Robin’s throat, and then resume his search for the lost city of the Incas, or whatever men sought in the Peruvian wilderness. His actual presence in Peru would need confirmation, and I would
