“Fred dropped his light and we got the wrong house. I knew something was the matter as soon as that door went flying open. The Free place has doors like a fort.”
Evans added, “We were pretty cold, so when Mrs. Baker here asked us in it sounded good. Then the Sarge got to playin’ with her cat.”
“Puff,” Mrs. Baker explained.
Sergeant Proudy said, “I happen to like cats. Some people do, ain’t that right? It’s no crime.”
Williams shook his head. “‘Course not. Me, I’d rather have a dog, but it’s just what a man’s taste run to. I believe, though, they’re ’bout ready with that big machine outside.”
The little guy who had slipped in behind Williams said, “They’ve had some kind of breakdown—I think they said something about a cylinder head.” He had taken off his trenchcoat and battered felt hat. Perhaps everyone there except Mrs. Baker herself thought he belonged in the house.
“We ought to get them out anyways,” Williams said. “Get it done.”
“Yeah.”
Puff had changed tactics. She was clapping both gray paws now.
“If you ain’t going to go, I believe I’ll just go out and set in me and Evans’s cruiser. Something might come over the radio.”
Sergeant Proudy stood up. “You trying to smart off, Bill?”
“Not me. I just meant what I said. Not a thing else.”
The little guy glanced at Mrs. Baker. “Maybe you’d like some coffee before you go out. I know I would.”
“I don’t have any,” Mrs. Baker told him. “Just tea for two and cooco. How about some cooco? It always goes so nice on a cold day.”
“Yes’m, I’d like some,” Williams said. “I got mighty cold walking all the way down to that fire station.”
“We were out in it as much as you were, ain’t that right?”
“I never said you wasn’t, Sarge. I never said you went and set in the cruiser or anything like that. I know you must have got cold too. Probably that’s why Fred dropped his flash. A man’s fingers gets cold and he start dropping things. Why I just ’bout dropped this ax a couple times on my way back.”
Sergeant Proudy looked at Williams dangerously.
Mrs. Baker murmured, “I’ll Polly put the kettle on,” and bustled off. The little guy offered helpfully, “If you’re really worried about that radio, I’ll go listen a while. I’m not cold. I’ll come in and tell you if anything comes over it.”
“There’s a man out there with blue glasses on that’s probably listening now,” Williams said.
The doorbell rang, and the little guy opened the door to see who it was. The snow had slackened again, but enough had fallen to form a minute glacier at the bottom of the door. The man on Mrs. Baker’s stoop wore sunglasses, a coconut-fiber hat, a colorful sports shirt, and shorts. His face looked sunburned. “Could you let me inside?” he asked the little guy.
“I might. You another insurance salesman?”
“No.” The man in the sports shirt raised one hand solemnly. It was shaking. “I swear to you on my mother’s grave, on my honor and everything I hold dear, that I am not selling insurance.”
“I’d let an insurance salesman in,” the little guy said. “I just wondered if you were one. There’s quite a few out there.” He stood aside and let the man in the sports shirt across the threshold.
“Thank God. I’m freezing.”
“You look it.”
“I always have a couple gin slings before I go out on calls—we’ve got them free in the office—but by God, I don’t think they help a bit.”
“I may come up to your office sometime.”
“We’d love to have you. I mean that.” The man in the sports shirt reached into its pocket and took out a card. “Any time. Let me know.” The card read:
Sim Sheppard
“SUNSHINE ESTATES”
The little guy said, “I think you’re looking for Sergeant Proudy, am I right? I’m not him, I’m Jim Stubb. Proudy’s the one with the kitten. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Barnes tapped Stubb on the shoulder. “What is it?” he asked. Like Stubb, he stood in the snow, his coat collar turned up against the wind.
“You don’t know, huh?”
Barnes pursed his lips. “Salesmen?”
“Yeah. There must be a hundred of the bastards. Insurance. Stocks and bonds. Florida real estate.”
“I called them. I said I was Proudy and told them to meet me here.”
“I thought it was something like that. You’re a clever devil, Ozzie.”
