'No-yes. Alphonse Daudet, wasn't it?'
'The hero had strong obligations too, if you remember. A career, a proud family. And all he had to gain was a harlot. An unusually lovely harlot-but aren't they all when a man falls in love with them?'
'I don't know what you're talking about,' I said.
'I'm talking about Mrs. Luther.'
I said, 'Oh,' and I think I sighed inwardly with relief.
'It would be very easy for you to be in love with her. I wouldn't blame you at all.'
'But I'm not.' She couldn't have heard anything. If there was that much talk, if it had already got to her…
'What would you do if I called you a liar?'
'Well,' I smiled. 'From you, I'd take it.'
'Consider it said, then. You're the worst possible kind of liar.'
'All right,' I said.
'If I were you I'd do a great deal of thinking. Doc has never made any impression upon me except in a slippery sort of way, but he's gone through a lot for that wife of his and he won't give her up easily. There's a blind spot in every man; there's something he'd kill for. Leave Mrs. Luther alone. Don't have anything to do with her, and don't let her have anything to do with you.'
'Maybe-' I hesitated, 'maybe I don't see what you're driving at, Miss Kennedy. Mrs. Luther is inclined a little to make up to a man, whether the man is interested or not-'
'That isn't what I mean.'
'Well-'
'Will you have another drink? I'm going to have to start dressing in about five minutes.'
'No, thank you.' I got up. 'I appreciate your talking to me, Miss Kennedy,' I said. 'But you seem to have heard something that just isn't true. Someone's been misrepresenting me to you,' I said.
'No one misrepresents anything to me.'
'Well, I don't blame you for not wanting to stick your neck out. But if there's talk going around-'
'Goodnight, Pat. This conversation was strictly between us. You don't need to worry about that.'
'What do I need to worry about?'
'Goodnight.'
She smiled, but she sounded angry; or, rather, disgusted. It was almost as if she said, 'Good God!'
I rode back downstairs and jumped in the car, slamming the door after me. It was late, now, and the rain made the night darker. I didn't know he was there until he spoke-until a match flared and raised up to a face beneath a slouch-brimmed hat.
19
I recognized him just in time to keep from swinging. Or rather to stop the swing I'd started.
'That,' I said, settling back on the seat, 'is a good way of getting killed, Mr. Eggleston.'
'There is no good way of getting killed, Mr. Cosgrove. I see your point, though. I didn't realize I was quite so invisible.'
'How did you find me?'
'Find you? You mean you're trying to avoid discovery?'
'You know what I mean.'
'Yes. Well, it wasn't a task that strained my professional capabilities. Whoever got your parole would have strong political connections. Those connections would almost certainly be used in getting you a job. A few hours of observation, a few discreet inquiries-and here I am.'
'You followed me from the capitol.'
'So. I thought it would be better, say, than calling you at Dr. Luther's.'
I turned the switch key, and stepped on the starter. His cigarette arced down to the floor, and I heard his heel grind it out. I heard something else, too.
'Going some place, Mr. Cosgrove?'
'I thought I'd drive some place where we could talk,' I said.
'We can talk very well here. But drive on, if you like. I only hope you will do nothing that will make it necessary for me to shoot you.'
'Hell,' I laughed, and I shut off the motor. 'Why would I do anything like that?'
'Because you might feel I was dangerous to you, whereas I'm actually your buckler and your shield. I have much more to sell you than silence. Something even more golden, from any standpoint.'
'Let's hear it,' I said.
'A question or two, first. And please, for your own sake, be very accurate with your answers. Number one: What prompted Dr. Luther to get your parole? Did you talk with him while he was visiting Sandstone, or-'
'I wrote him a letter. Him and probably a hundred others. He was the only one to respond.'
'Oh, good. Very good. You had no acquaintance with him whatsoever, right?'
'Right,' I said. 'I've already told you that.'
'Question number two: How long was it after you wrote this letter before Dr. Luther acted in your behalf?'
'I don't know exactly. As I say, it was one of a number of letters, and I didn't keep track of them. I think it must have been around three months.'
'I think it must have been, too, Mr. Cosgrove. In fact, I'd take an oath on it. Now-'
'Just a minute,' I said. 'How do you know that?'
'Because the time corresponds with another act-a series of acts, I should say-by Dr. Luther. Acts which provide the motive for your parole. Now, question number three: Has anything happened which would incline you to believe that you might be forced into a disastrous quarrel with Dr. Luther?'
'Yes,' I said.
'Mrs. Luther?'
'Mrs. Luther.'
'I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting the lady. Is she a raving beauty-the kind to successfully inspire a mortal quarrel?'
'Not for my money,' I said. 'But a lot of men would be crazy about her. You've probably seen her type. Tall, blonde, beautiful. And a bum.'
He grunted. With surprise, it seemed. But when he spoke it was in his usual flat monotone.
'Well, that's about all, Mr. Cosgrove. Except for a rhetorical question. Have you dwelt any on the fact that Dr. Luther is now approaching the end of his political career, and that he must have seen the beginning of that end at about the time he received your letter?'
'I've thought about it a great deal,' I said.
'And?'
'All right,' I said, 'I'm curious. I'm more than curious. What have you got to tell me?'
'Nothing more, Mr. Cosgrove. Until I'm convinced, in a very concrete manner, that my words will be appreciated.'
'How much?'
'Five hundred.'
