I knew at once he was lying.
“My brother was hurt,” I said, watching him. “He lost his memory. We don’t know what
78
happened. I’m trying to find out.”
“I tell you I don’t know anything about it,” he said curtly. “If you’ve finished your coffee, I
gotta get on.”
I took out a roll of bills; peeled off a hundred in twenties and spread them out on my knee.
“I don’t want to waste your time. I pay for information,” I said.
“She said I wasn’t to talk about it,” he said, his eyes lighting up, “but as you’re his brother .
. .”
I gave him the money. My heart was beginning to pound, and my hand was unsteady.
“What happened?”
“She and your brother came here. She said he had been hit on the head and the car stolen,
but I found out later she was lying. There had been a smash and the car caught fire. They
found a body in it.”
“That’s right. What was this woman like?”
“Dark and pretty, but as hard as nails. She wore a green dress. From the look of her she had
plenty of money.”
Della!
“Go on,” I said.
“Your brother made out he was pretty bad, but he wasn’t. He was trying to fool me. She
wanted me to call some fella, and she gave me a phone number. The phone’s about half a mile
down the road. I called this guy. He said he’d come over. When I got back to the cabin I
looked through the window. Your brother was talking to the girl, but when I went in he made
out he was still unconscious.”
I didn’t know what to make of all this.
“Do you remember the phone number?”
“Lincoln Beach 4444. It’s an easy one to remember.”
“Who was this fella you called?”
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“Nick Reisner. That’s what she said his name was.”
I felt spider’s legs run up my spine.
“What exactly did she say?”
He thought for a long moment, scratching his head, his eyebrows drawn down in a frown.
“She said Ricca had met with an accident, and this Reisner fella was to come and pick them
up.”
“Did he?”
“Yeah,”
“Did you see him?”
He shook his head.
“No. I was asleep when he arrived.”
I went on asking him questions, but there was nothing else of importance he could tell me.
But I hadn’t wasted my time. I bad established that after the car crash Della and I had gone to
the cabin. That meant her husband, Paul, and not me, as Riskin had thought, had been left in
the burning car. Who Reisner was was something I had to find out. At least I had his telephone
number. Why had Della called me Ricca? Had she been the girl who had died in the second car
smash or was it someone else?
Before I could make sense of any of this, I had to get a bit more information. I thanked the
old man for his help, and went back to where I had parked the car.
