Mr. X

    'Maybe two minutes.'

    Inside, the night clerk waved me toward the desk. He leaned on his counter and spoke almost without moving his lips. 'Two cops went up to your room. If you want to split, the back door's that way.' He extended his little finger and pointed past the desk to stairs descending to a narrow hallway.

    I gave him a five-dollar bill and put the Lovecraft book and the folders on the counter. 'Would you hold these things for me?'

    The clerk shrugged, and the counter was clear.

    When I walked into my room, Lieutenant Rowley uncoiled from the side of the bed. Captain Mullan gave me a weary nod from the chair at the near end of the table. 'Please be seated, Mr. Dunstan.' He gestured at the chair across from him.

    My fingers met the little calligraphic are ofP.D. 10/17/58, and I heard my mother telling meIf Icould sing the way that man played alto, Neddie, I’d stop time forever . . .

    'Describe your actions before your visit to Headquarters.'

    Robert had been busy.

    “I drove around.'

     'Drove around.' Rowley thrust his hip against the table. 'Did our travels take us to Ellendale?'

    I heard Star say,At first, I wasn't even sure I liked that group. It was a quartet from the West Coast, and I was never all that crazy about West Coast jazz. Then this alto player who looked like a stork pushed himself off the curve of the piano and stuck his horn in his mouth and started playing 'These Foolish Things.' And oh, Neddie, it was like ...

    “I believe they did,' I said.

    'About ten-thirtyp.m., Stewart Hatch turned up in the emergency room at Lawndale Hospital,' Mullan said. 'He claims that he surprised you in an intimate situation with Mrs. Hatch, and you attacked him with a knife.'

    'Are you carrying a knife?' Rowley asked.

    'Mr. Hatch further claims that during the ensuing struggle, you dislocated his shoulder and otherwise assaulted him. He wishes to bring charges.'

    . . .going to some new place you'd never heard about, but where you felt at home right away. He just touched that melody for a second before he lifted off and began climbing and climbing, and everything he played linked up, one step after another, like a story . . .

    “I don't care what Stewart Hatch does,' I said. “It won't work. He's telling his story backwards.'

    'Mr. Hatch dislocatedyour shoulder?'

    'Let's see the knife, Dunstan,' Rowley said.

    “I don't have one.' I told them about going to Ellendale and tussling with a drunken Stewart Hatch. 'Finally, he reached into the knife drawer and came out with a paring knife. He said something like, 'I was looking for something a little more impressive.' Then he rushed me, and I yanked him off his feet and dislocated his shoulder. I kicked him in the side, too, because by that point I was not in a good mood. After that, I threw him out of the house. He rammed into my rental and took off for Lawndale at about a hundred miles an hour. I'm surprised he's so stupid. His wife saw the whole thing.'

    'His alcohol level was four times over the limit,' Mullan said. 'By the way, according to the officer who took Mrs. Hatch's statement, the word her husband used when he saw the paring knife was 'imposing,' not 'impressive.' 'I was looking for something a little more imposing.' That's a nice touch.'

    'Captain,' Rowley said, 'they cooked this story up between them. Mr. Hatch caught them in bed, and Dunstan pulled a knife.'

    'The officer who questioned Mrs. Hatch was shown a garbage bag loaded with broken plates. I think he we can dismiss Mr. Hatch's accusations.'

    'You went out there already?'

    'We can move pretty quick, when we want to.'

    Neddie!I heard my mother say.It was like hearing the whole world open up in front of me. It was like going to heaven.

    A chain-saw noise came from Rowley's throat. 'This guy is all over the place. Wherever we go, there he is. Nobody's seen Joe Staggers in two days, and weknow Staggers was after him. What do you think happened to Staggers?'

    'So far, no one's filed a Missing Persons.'

    'Dunstan hands out alibis, and women back him up. Mr. Hatch's troubles are going to blow away, and before long, Dunstan's going to blow away, too. Then it'll be business as usual. Who do you want in your corner, Captain?'

    Mullan clasped his hands on his belly and regarded the ceiling of my room. 'All in all, Lieutenant, I think you can go home for the night. Tell Officer Treuhaft he can leave, too.'

    'Think it over, Captain.'

    'Thank you for your assistance, Lieutenant. We shall see each other tomorrow.'

    Rowley's dead eyes moved from Mullan to me and back to Mullan. 'Up to you, Captain.' He slammed the door behind him,

    Mullan regarded me with the same opaque, detached gaze he had trained on my ceiling. 'You're a strange man, Mr. Dunstan.'

    'So I've heard,' I said.

    Mullan's bleak smile told me only that Robert had been unimaginably reckless. “I assumed you would be waiting to hear from me.'

    “I am.'

    Mullan did not move so much as a centimeter. Even the wintry smile stayed in place. 'Do you remember my mentioning an anonymous telephone call from someone accusing Earl Sawyer of a number of homicides?'

    'Sure,' I said.

    'That's what makes you a strange fellow. I didn't mention it.'

    “I'm sorry,' I said. 'There's too much going on.'

    'You wouldn't be the fellow who placed that call, would you?'

    “I would not,' I said.

    'But the subject is of interest to you.'

    “I can't deny that,' I said, feeling my way through the minefield Robert had laid.

    'At approximately nine o'clockp.m., you visited my office for the purpose of informing me that you suspected Earl Sawyer of being the man once known as Edward Rinehart.' He raised his eyebrows, as if for corroboration. I nodded. 'That would make two people who wanted to talk to me about Earl Sawyer. I don't believe in coincidence, Mr. Dunstan.'

    “I thought the police got anonymous tips all the time.'

    'Be nice if we did. This old man wouldn't have to work so hard. All right, forget the call. Correct me if I'm wrong here. When we went to St. Ann's, didn't you refer to Clothard Spelvin? Clothhead?'

    'There's nothing wrong with your memory,' I said. “I don't suppose there ever has been.'

    'At Headquarters, you said your mother had given you Rinehart's name.'

    His smile still looked like a map of the tundra, but he did not seem hostile. In a series of careful steps, Mullan was working up to something, and he had sent away Rowley and Treuhaft because it had to be kept between us. I had no idea what Robert had said to Mullan, and I could not afford to make a mistake. Nor did I have a hint of where Mullan was going.

    'Not long before she died,' I said.

    Mullan stretched out his legs and put his hands behind his head. 'Let's see if I have this straight. You got word that your mother had returned to Edgerton in ill health. How did that happen? Did one of her aunts call you in New York?'

    'Yes, but I was already on my way,' I said. “I had some vacation time, so I thought I'd hitchhike across the country. I know that sounds crazy, but the idea appealed to me. I was going to work my way to Illinois, visit my aunts, and fly back. Two days before my mother died, while the truck driver you talked to, Bob Mims, was taking me across Ohio, I. ... I don't know how this is going to sound to you.'