If there is anything we can do…’
‘I just want to be sure Sarita is all right,’ I said. ‘You do that, and you’ll be doing everything.’
She put her hand on mine.
‘All right. You don’t have to worry about Sarita, and Jeff, I’m sorry… Ted and I like you a lot.’
I dropped her off at the City Hall. She wanted to tell Mathison the news about Sarita. She looked through the car window at me and smiled.
‘Don’t forget… anything we can do…’
‘I won’t forget.’
Ten minutes later I walked into my office.
Clara, busy thumping a typewriter, paused and looked at me.
‘It’s pretty good news,’ I said, taking off my raincoat. ‘They think she’ll walk again. It’s going to take time, but they seem pretty confident.
‘I’m so glad, Mr. Halliday.’
‘Where’s this police officer?’
‘He’s in your office. Mr. Weston had to go down to the site. He’s in there alone.’
I crossed the room, turned the handle of the door and entered.
A large, heavily built man sat at ease in one of the leather lounging chairs we had bought for important clients.
He had a typical cop face: red, fleshy and weather beaten with the usual small hard eyes and the rat-trap mouth. He had bulky shoulders and a bulky waistline, and his thinning hair was turning grey.
As he heaved himself to his feet, he said, ‘Mr. Halliday?’
‘That’s right,’ I said and closed the door. My hands were damp and my heart was thumping, but with a conscious effort I managed to keep my face expressionless.
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Keary, Santa Barba City police.’
I went around my desk and sat down.
‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, sergeant,’ I said. ‘Sit down. What can I do for you?’
He sat down. The small green eyes worked over me.
‘Just a routine investigation, Mr. Halliday. I’m hoping you can help us.’
This was so unexpected I was off balance for a moment. I was expecting to be arrested. I stared at him.
‘Why, sure. What is it?’
‘We are looking for a man known as Jinx Mandon. Does the name mean anything to you?’
A false alarm! A wave of relief ran over me. My tension relaxed.
‘Jinx Mandon? Why, no.’
The small eyes continued to probe.
‘Never heard of him?’
‘No.’
He took out a pack of chewing gum, stripped off the wrapping paper and put the gum in his mouth.
His movements were slow and deliberate. He rolled the wrapping paper into a small ball and dropped it into the ash tray on my desk. All the time he stared fixedly at me.
‘What’s your home address, Mr. Halliday?’
I told him, wondering why he asked.
‘What is all this about, anyway?’ I said.
‘Mandon is wanted for armed robbery.’ Keary’s heavy jaws revolved on the gum. ‘Yesterday we picked up an abandoned car outside the Santa Barba railroad station. Mandon’s fingerprints were on the steering wheel. The car had been stolen from Los Angeles. In the compartment we found a scrap of paper on which was written your name and address.’
My heart gave a little kick against my side. Could Jinx Mandon be Ed Vasari? To cover my start of surprise, I opened the cigarette box on my desk, took out a cigarette and lit it.
‘My name and address?’ I said, desperately trying to sound casual. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s simple enough, isn’t it?’ There was a sudden grating note in Keary’s voice. ‘A car used by a wanted criminal has your name and address in the glove compartment. There’s not much to understand about that. How do you account for it?’
I was recovering quickly.
‘I don’t account for it,’ I said. ‘I have never heard of this man.’
‘Maybe you have seen him.’
He took from his pocket an envelope, and from the envelope a half plate glossy photograph which he flicked across the desk to me.
I was already braced as I looked at the photograph. It was Ed Vasari all right: there was no mistaking him.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t know him.’
Keary reached across the desk, picked up the photograph, returned it to the envelope and the envelope back into his pocket. His heavy jaws revolved on the gum as he continued to stare at me.
‘Then why did he have your name and address in the car?’
‘I wouldn’t know. Maybe the owner of the car knows me. Who is he?’
‘He doesn’t know you. We have already asked him.’
‘Then I can’t help you, sergeant.’
He crossed one thick leg over the other, his jaws moving slowly and rhythmically on the gum.
‘You’re building a bridge, aren’t you?’ he asked, unexpectedly. ‘You had your picture in
‘Yes. What has that to do with it?’
‘Maybe Mandon got your name from the magazine. Was your address mentioned?’
‘No.’
He shifted his bulk in the chair, frowning.
‘Quite a mystery, isn’t it? I don’t like mysteries. They make a report untidy. You have no idea why Mandon should have had your name and address in his car?’
‘None at all.’
He chewed for a moment or so, then shrugging his heavy shoulders he climbed to his feet.
‘There must be some explanation, Mr. Halliday. You think about it. Maybe you’ll remember something. If you do, give me a call. We want this guy, and we’re going to get him. There may be a hook-up between you and him you have forgotten.’
‘No chance of that,’ I said, getting up. ‘I don’t know him and I’ve never seen him.’
‘Well, okay. Thanks for your time.’ He started towards the door, then paused. ‘Quite a bridge you’re building.’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that right it’ll cost six million bucks?’
‘Yes.’
He stared at me, his small eyes probing again.
‘Pretty nice going, if you can get it,’ he said. ‘Well, so long, Mr. Halliday.’
He nodded and went away.
I felt cold sweat on my face as I watched the door close silently after him.
