legal representative. I'll be there in ten minutes.'
“I don't need a legal representative,' I said.
'You will. In accordance with Mr. Kraft's wishes, I want to meet you and the other surviving members of his late wife's family at two o'clock this afternoon. At that time, you will understand why I prefer not to speak of this matter in the presence of the police. Keep your trap shut until I get there.'
I put down the receiver and waited for Lieutenant Rowley.
•9O
•A police car followed by a dark blue sedan came whooping down Lanyard Street and pulled up in front of the shop. Two men in uniforms left the squad car and watched Rowley climb out of the sedan. He charged up to the door, saw me coming, and banged his fist against the glass. Rowley kept on banging until I opened up. 'What the hell are you doing here, Dunstan?'
“I was helping out in the shop. This is my second day.'
'You found the body?'
'You know I did. I gave my name when I called headquarters.'
Rowley pointed at one of the cops. 'Nelson, get the preliminaries from Mr. Dunstan and take him to headquarters. Where's the body?'
'Back there,' I said.
Rowley stormed into the office. Toby seemed to be looking at me, and I had the crazy impulse to go in and straighten out his hair. Two more police cars swung in front of the shop. Captain Mullan and a detective I had not seen before got out of the second one.
Mullan gave me an arctic glance before going into the office. The detective followed him. I heard Mullan say, 'You know, I don't think I really believe this shit.'
Two more squad cars and an ambulance screeched up in front of the building. Suddenly, the shop was filled with policemen. Officer Nelson flipped to a clean page of his notebook.
Mullan emerged from the office with Rowley treading on his heels. When Rowley saw the other detective, his jaw snapped shut.
“I thought this was me,' said the detective.
'What's Oster doing here?'
Mullan's expression was completely disingenuous. 'Don't you have the Little case?'
'You know I do.'
'Then go back to headquarters, Lieutenant. Detective Oster's getting this one.'
All the policemen in the shop were staring at Rowley. 'Fine,' he said. A trace of red came into his cheeks. 'But Dunstan's already—'
'Already what, Lieutenant?'
Every head in the room turned to a gaunt, pale man in a gray suit who seemed to have appeared at my side through some magical agency, as if from a burst of smoke. He had thin, colorless hair, a narrow, deeply lined face, wire-rimmed spectacles, and a mouth like a mail slot. I recognized his flat, dry voice. 'Please, Lieutenant, go on.'
'Just what we need,' Rowley said. 'C. Clayton Creech.'
Creech was impervious to Rowley's contempt. He would be impervious to most things. Far past shock or surprise, Creech existed in a state of neutral readiness for whatever might come his way. You could not show him anything he had not already witnessed so often that it was incapable of provoking anything but ironic recognition. He was so far beyond conventional human responses that he might as well have been from another planet. Under the circumstances, his presence made me led more relaxed than I would have thought possible.
'This is your lawyer?' Mullan asked.
'He is.'
Rowley made a disgusted noise and pushed his way through the crowd of uniformed policemen. Officer Nelson looked uncertainly at Oster and said, “I was about to question him.'
'Do that,' Oster said.
As if inquiring about the score of a minor-league baseball game in a distant city, Creech asked, “Is my client to be taken to headquarters?'
'Your client will be invited to assist us in our investigation.' Mullan turned wearily to me. 'Would you be willing to make out a statement at Police Headquarters?'
Without moving a muscle, Creech encouraged assent.
'Of course,' I said.
“I shall be present during the questioning,' Creech said. “If my client wishes.'
“I'd like Mr. Creech to be present,' I said.
A tired-looking man with mushroom-colored skin came in and pronounced Toby dead. The ambulance attendants carried out what looked like a giant loaf of bread hidden under a sheet.
Mullan said, 'The counselor won't mind if I tell you we found out who was responsible for last night's fire.'
Creech's motionless figure somehow displayed mild curiosity.
'Carl Sandburg Elementary put up a ten-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to an arrest.'
'Handsome gesture,' Creech said.
Mullan smiled. 'Late yesterday afternoon, your old friend Frenchy La Chapelle and a miscreant called To Me From Me Blunt decided to unwind over a bottle of bourbon and a crack pipe.'
'Toomey Frommey?' I asked.
'ToMe,
'Lamentable negligence on the part of the arresting officers,' Creech said.
'After they got high, Frenchy started bragging about the money he got for torching a building on Chester Street. To MeFromMe decided that his obligations as a citizen outweighed his loyalty to a friend. We brought Frenchy in and charged him, and he was put in a cell. Just before four o'clock this morning, a strange thing happened to Mr. La Chapelle.'
My scalp tingled.
'Frenchy had nothing on him sharper than his fingernails, but he figured out a way to cut his throat. He looked a lot like Toby back there.'
'Oh,' I said.
'You mentioned Clothhead Spelvin the other day,' Mullan said. 'Might you be able to shed a little light here?'
C. Clayton Creech's indifferent gaze at the pawnshop counter recommended silence.
“I wish I could,' I said.
Mullan rocked on his heels. 'Nelson, take Mr. Dunstan to headquarters. You can give Mr. Creech a ride, too.'
'Thank you, Captain, but I believe I will take the opportunity to enjoy the fresh air.' Creech interrogated me with a glance directed at the ceiling. I looked over his shoulder in the direction of the storeroom and the hidden ledger.
Twenty minutes later, C. Clayton Creech padded into the interrogation room and communicated by his usual mysterious means that all was well. The stolid Nelson opened his notebook and began asking questions. Creech folded into the chair to my left and stayed there for the next three hours. Now and then he uttered a gentle reproof to whoever was grilling me at the moment. He seemed about as involved in the procedure as a lizard stretched out on a warm rock. Just before 12:30p.m., the Edgerton Police Department released me with instructions to keep in touch.
Creech and I went past the desk sergeant, who conspicuously ignored him. 'All is copacetic,' Creech said. When we came to the top of the steps down to Grace Street and Town Square, Creech said, 'My office at two o'clock?'
