'I guess you and Louise had a long talk,' he said, puffing away and blowing the smoke out his partly opened window.
'We did,' I admitted. 'She seemed in the need of a sympathetic listener.'
'Uh-huh,' he said. 'That's what I've been trying to be. She tells me you talked to Marcia the afternoon before she was killed.'
'That's correct.'
'And that lunatic kid said she was going to ask me for money so she could get her own apartment.'
'Heck,' I said, 'if Mrs. Hawkin told you that, she's confused. I said only that Marcia spoke of a business deal she was planning. It was Mrs. Hawkin who suggested she was going to ask you for money.'
'That figures,' he said, showing me a warped grin. 'Louise is a little nutsy these days. But that's neither here nor there. What I really want to talk about is Theo's pre-nuptial agreement. Let's see if I've got this clear. Chauncey comes to you and tells you about it. But he's afraid to tell his mother because then she might put the kibosh on the marriage. Have I got that right?'
'You've got it.'
'And what did you tell him to do, Arch?'
'Not to sign anything until I had a chance to think about it.'
'That was smart,' Johnson said. 'So you thought about it and figured Chauncey could sign the agreement without telling mommy. That's what you told Theo-correct?'
'Correct.'
'Now I get the picture,' he said. 'He'll sign if you tell him to?'
'I think he will.'
'Sure he will. We get a shyster to draw up the papers, Chauncey signs, and his mother and your father know nothing about it. It's our secret.'
'That's right, Heck.'
He turned slowly to look at me. 'So why do we need you?' he demanded. 'You've already told us how to handle it.'
'Two reasons,' I said. 'First of all, I could tell Chauncey not to sign.'
'Wouldn't work,' he said, shaking his head. 'If he wants my daughter-and I know he's got the hots for her- he'll sign regardless of what you tell him. You're just not built right, Arch; you can't compete with Theo.'
'That's probably true. But the second reason is that you're asking five million. A lot of money. I'd like a small piece of the action.'
At least he had the decency not to express sorrow that his image of me as a 'straight arrow' had suddenly been demolished. He just bit down hard on his cigar and stared grimly through the windshield at the night sky.
'For what?' he said. 'So you won't tell Chauncey's mommy?'
'Let's call it a finder's fee,' I said. 'Just like you wanted for telling me about Mrs. Hawkin's intention to sell her property.'
His laugh was short and not mirthful. 'You got a great memory, boy. Okay, let's say you tell Chauncey to sign the prenup and you agree not to squeal about it to Mrs. Smythe-whatshername. How much do you figure that's worth?'
'A hundred thousand,' I said brazenly. 'Two percent. Very modest.'
'Sure it is,' he said. 'Cash, I suppose.'
'You suppose accurately.'
He tossed his half-smoked cigar out the window. 'Doesn't taste so great,' he said. 'Tastes like shit.'
'Too bad.'
He turned his head to stare at me. 'I guess I underestimated you.'
'Many people do.' I smiled at him.
'A hundred grand,' he said. 'Is that your asking price?'
'No,' I said. 'I don't enjoy haggling. That's the set price.'
'Like the song goes: 'All or Nothing at All.' '
'Exactly,' I agreed.
'That's a lot of loot to raise in cash,' he said.
'You can't swing it?'
'I didn't say that. When it comes to my little girl's happiness I'd go to hell and back.'
'Of course you would,' I said approvingly. 'She's worth it.'
'Listen, Arch, let me think about this and make a few phone calls. Maybe we can work it out. I'll be in touch.'
'When?' I asked.
'I should know by tomorrow. I'll give you a buzz.'
'Can you make it early, Heck? I'm going to be running around all afternoon and wouldn't want to miss your call.'
'I'll make it early,' he promised.
I nodded and got out of the car. I stood at the opened door. 'Sleep well,' I said.
This time his laugh was genuine. 'You're a nervy bastard,' he said. 'I'll say that for you.'
I watched him drive away and then tramped up to my digs. I was generally satisfied with the way our face-to- face had gone. I believed he had taken the bait. Now all I had to do was set the hook.
My most worrisome problem had been to determine how large a bribe to demand. If I had asked for a million, for instance, or even a half-million, I knew he would have rebuffed me instantly. But a hundred thousand sounded reasonable: not too outlandish, not too covetous.
Of course I was gambling that there was no way on God's green earth that Hector Johnson could raise a hundred thousand dollars in cold cash. I had an approximate idea of his bank balance, I didn't think Reuben Hagler was rolling in gelt, and Mrs. Hawkin would be on short rations until her late husband's estate was settled. I calculated Hector would make a counterproposal, and I could launch the second part of my scam.
I thought my plan was brill. But if, by any chance, Johnson handed over the hundred thousand bucks I'd be a puddle of chagrin.
17
There was a tropical depression moving slowly northward over the Atlantic about two hundred miles off the coast. It was no threat to South Florida, according to the weather wonks, but it turned Monday morning into a kind of soup. Well, consomme, at least. The air was choky, hard to breathe, and the sun gleamed waterily behind a scrim of clouds the color of elephant hide.
I awoke early enough to breakfast with my parents. It was an unusually quiet meal because a woolly day like that blankets the spirits and, if you're wise, you remain silent so you don't start snapping at other people or maybe tilting back your head and howling.
However, before father departed for the office he asked how my meeting with Hector Johnson had gone. I held up crossed fingers and he nodded morosely. That was the extent of our communication.
I returned to my journal, donned reading glasses, and began scribbling. I must confess that I mention my daily labors so frequently because the record I keep becomes the source of these published accounts of my investigations and brief romances. I just don't want you to think I'm making it all up.
I plodded along steadily, hoping for a morning phone call from Johnson. It didn't arrive until almost eleven o'clock, by which time I had begun to fear my crafty plan had gone awry.
'Listen, Arch,' Hector said with mucho earnestness, 'I know you're not an unreasonable man.'
'No, I'm not unreasonable,' I readily agreed.
'Well, to make a long story short, I can't come up with the total number you suggested. You capisce?'
'Yes, I understand.'
'But I think I can swing half of it,' he went on. 'It should be available by tonight, and I was hoping we could
