To Die in Beverly Hills

must be queers.'

'Could be.' Carr stepped out of the study and made his way down a hallway lined with oil paintings of Peckham in various flattering poses. The other bedrooms off the hallway were decorated in strikingly different motifs. The walls of one room were covered with zebra skins.

After surveying the entire house, they returned to the living room.

Carr picked up a shotgun, pulled shells from his coat pocket and thumbed them into the magazine. 'How would you break in?' he said.

'It's a toss-up between either kicking in the front door or coming around the side of the house. But I don't think he'll hit the windows. They look fairly secure.'

'The front door looks like the weak spot to me.'

Without discussion, they took positions catercorner from one another in the living room. As it grew dark inside the house the city below became alive with lights. In the distance the flashing red lights of airplanes descended slowly in an arc toward Los Angeles International Airport.

For once, Carr mused, the night was clear. He remembered being on guard duty in Korea. It had been foggy and pitch dark. He knew that if the enemy had approached his position, he would probably feel a bayonet before seeing it. Consequently, he stood as still as possible through his tour of guard duty, knowing that the enemy might be close enough to hear him. Sitting across the room from one another in the darkness, Higgins and Carr bantered about the case. Around 10:00 P.m. they shared a meal of bologna and bread, which they ate under flashlight illumination at the kitchen table. After finishing their sandwiches, they returned to their posts.

'When you talked with Kreuzer,' Higgins said from across the room, 'did he sound confident that Bailey would take the bait?' It was the same question he had asked in a number of different ways through the course of the evening.

'He said Bailey reacted the same way he always does when he gave him an address for a score.'

'We might end up sitting here all week.'

'I was afraid if I told Kreuzer to say that the house would be vacant for any shorter period it might sound like a setup.'

'You're right,' Higgins said. 'It was the best way to do it. It's just sitting here not knowing whether he'll ever come. That's the hard part. The thought of wasting a week sitting here for nothing.'

The conversation became even more banal after midnight.

During the morning hours they alternated taking catnaps. Finally, the sun came up.

Carr stretched. He phoned the Field Office and left a message for No Waves that he was on a stakeout at Tony Dio's home. Higgins called his captain and did the same. They took quick showers, changed underwear, ate more lunchmeat and bread, made a joint command decision to make a pot of Greg Peckham's coffee. When it was brewed, they drank the entire pot. For a while they discussed whether it was worth taking the chance of separating long enough for one of them to drive to a store and pick up a morning newspaper. They decided against it.

They spent the rest of the day playing gin rummy. After dark, they continued playing by arranging a flashlight on the dining room table. Finally, at 11:00 P.M., Carr ginned and Higgins said he'd played enough cards to last him the rest of his life.

At Higgins's suggestion, they watched the eleven o'clock news on TV with the volume turned down. After the news, they found themselves meandering about the darkened house like prisoners in an exercise yard. Carr found himself standing on the patio again staring at the city lights. He thought of Sally, and of the case, and about how he would busy himself if he retired.

And the hours passed.

Eventually Carr returned to the living room, where he found Higgins lying on the sofa.

'Most burglars work during the day,' Higgins said. 'They ring the door bell. If no one's home, they shim the door and do their thing.'

'That's what they say,' Carr agreed. He remembered Higgins making the same comment the night before.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

Carr grabbed the shotgun, ran to the kitchen window and peeked out. He saw the figure of a man climbing out of a sedan and cautiously approaching the front door. He carried an axe.

Higgins trotted down the hallway toward the den.

There was the sound of metal against metal at the front door. A snap. The door opened slowly.

Carr ducked behind the kitchen work counter.

A beam of a flashlight preceded the man as he passed through the front door. With the light leading his way, he walked through the living room and down the hallway. Carr stood up, tiptoed behind him.

As the man reached the door of the den, Carr flipped on the hallway light. Higgins, holding his pistol in a combat stance, stood in the doorway. 'Surprise,' he said.

Bones Chagra backed up in fright. His back touched the barrel of Carr's shotgun. He dropped his flashlight and axe and his hands flew over his head. 'Please don't kill me,' he cried. 'Please don't kill me.'

Higgins reholstered his revolver. He stepped from the doorway and slammed Chagra against the wall. After frisking him thoroughly, he grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him past Carr into the kitchen, where he shoved him violently into a chair. He yanked a pair of handcuffs off his belt and snapped one cuff on Chagra's right wrist and attached the other to a table leg.

Carr unloaded the shotgun and returned it to his sedan. Back in the kitchen he prepared coffee in an electric pot. He set the pot and three cups on the kitchen table. As he did this, he glanced at a wall clock.

It was 3:00 A.M.

SEVENTEEN

At 8:00 A.M. they were still sitting around the kitchen table. The coffee pot was empty. Carr had filled an ashtray with cigarette butts.

'It's like I said,' Chagra said in a fatigued manner. 'I've been bullshitted before by the cops.'

'That must be the fiftieth time you've said that,' Higgins said as he rocked back on his chair. 'Maybe more.'

'You people can promise me anything you want and then go back on your word.'

And you've said that fiftytimes too, Carr thought. He lit his last cigarette and crumpled the empty pack. 'Let's look at this situation realistically,' Carr said as he pulled his chair closer to the table. 'We were waiting here for you. We knew you were coming. That means only one thing; someone set you up. Now, being the intelligent man that you are, you should know exactly how many people knew you were going to break in here tonight. One of those people handed you up. One of them dropped a dime on you. So who the hell are you trying to protect?'

'Me,' Chagra said emphatically as he touched his thumb to his chest. 'I'm just trying to protect myself. There's people involved in it who'd snuff me in a minute. I've lived through time in the joint before. And living is the important thing. I'm not going to talk. That's my final decision. You might as well take me downtown and book me and stop wasting your time.' Chagra picked up his coffee cup with his unshackled hand. He tossed back the few cold drops in the bottom, grimaced and set the cup back down.

'If we take you downtown we're not going to book you for burglary,' Carr said. 'We're going to book you for murder.'

Bones Chagra swallowed as he stared at the table.

'You were the last person to see Amanda Kennedy alive.'

'I didn't kill her. I've got nothing to worry about.'

'The day will come when you'll want to help us,' Carr said. 'We'll make a case on Bailey with or without you. When we arrest him, do you think he'll keep his mouth shut? He's a policeman. He knows the ropes when it comes to making a deal with the prosecution. My guess is that he would hand you up on a platter if it meant so much as one day less on his sentence. I'm going to give it to you straight one last time before we book you for accessory to