The Girl from Midnight, page 15
"I doubt it. It's all a matter of taking an interest in the other person."
"Then I'm safe. I can't feature not being interested in you. But wouldn't it be awful if we couldn't think of anything to say and just had to stare at each other? I read about a woman like that. She claimed her husband only spoke to her seven times all the years they were married." Lupe giggled. "She was getting a divorce and asking for the custody of their seven kids."
He smiled weakly. "I'm sure I can do better than that-even if it's only something like 'please pass the salt.' "
"I certainly hope so." She built a snowman with the sparkling suds. "Get me. Here I go rattling on about us being married like there was a chance it was going to happen."
"There's more than a chance."
"Not really. It's just another wish on my bracelet and we both know it."
He said doggedly, "I'm free now. Don't forget that."
"I haven't. It was the first thing I thought of when you told me about finding her. It's an awful thing to admit and I'll probably be punished for it. But I'm not going to pretend I didn't think it, because I did."
"You're not guilty of anything, Lupe. Except maybe being honest."
"Me, honest? I'm the biggest liar in California and I can get you witnesses. I even lie to myself and that's the worst kind. Like I've been doing right now, pretending about us."
For her sake, he summoned up a confidence he didn't feel. "Things are going to be all right. I guarantee."
"Now you're the liar, darling. What happened today makes things worse for us, not better. Because now you're in trouble, too. You told me the cops halfway believe you killed Carlene."
"But I didn't. So how can I be in trouble?"
"Sometimes, Rand, your thinking is nowhere and beyond. You know what the police are like when they get an idea? Even when you prove they're wrong, they scrounge around for something else to hang on you just for meanness. And that something is me." Lupe nodded decisively. "Like I told you this morning, your only way out is to turn me in."
"And let Ned Yost win? Not on your life."
"Face it, Buster. He is winning. We haven't got a prayer of beating him because we still don't even know what the game is."
He said wearily, "Maybe you're right but do we have to discuss it now? I don't want to think tonight."
She was instantly solicitous. "You ought to kick me. I know you're played out and I got no business even bringing it up… We'll talk about something else." She placed the last of the dishes in the rack. "Better yet, I'll shut up altogether."
He didn't argue. She completed her chores and then picked up the newspaper he had bought that morning. She settled herself in the chair across the table, gave him a companionable grin and began to read.
He watched her with half-shut eyes that, with the slightest encouragement, would have closed completely. Lupe leafed through the newspaper, scarcely glancing at the news content and pausing only now and then at the advertisements, until she reached the comic page. She began to read intently, face engrossed. Rand was tempted to feel superior until he recalled that his own principal interest in the paper was the sports section which, when it came right down to it, was of equal consequence.
Lupe's spectrum of interest was actually broader than his because, when she had completed her inspection of the comics, she turned to the society section, which never concerned him. A smile perked her lips as she absorbed every scrap of trivia relating to past and present parties, charity board functions, weddings and engagements. Unconsciously, her fingers toyed with the charms of her bracelet. Rand was touched. The poor kid, yearning for…
"Now that's wild," Lupe said.
From the way his head jerked, Rand realized he'd been on the verge of falling asleep. "What's wild?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bother you." She was frowning at a picture at the top of a page. "But that isn't her real name."
"Who?"
She slid the paper across the table to him. It bore the photograph of a handsome young blonde, attired in a bouffant formal, pretending to light an elaborate candelabra. Judith Babcock, who will reign over the annual Candlelight Ball, demonstrates how she will light the candles which traditionally illuminate the gala affair. Miss Babcock, daughter of Councilman George Babcock, was chosen in competition with over a hundred of the city's young clubwomen. Rand had never heard of her nor, as far as he could recall, of the Candlelight Ball, either. He said drowsily, "Very interesting."
"It sure is," Lupe said. "Judith Babcock. She's one of Doctor Salisbury's patients. Only she called herself Jane Baker."
"Maybe they just look alike."
"No, it's the same girl. I saw her a couple of times in the office. The reason I remember her is that Doctor really soaked her on the bill something awful for what he did. It was just a simple D&C. I even said something to Beadle about it-that I wouldn't be surprised if Miss Baker squawked her head off and I wouldn't blame her."
"And did she?" Rand murmured, simply to be saying something.
"No, the check came right back paid in full." Lupe paused. "And that's wild too, now that I think about it. It wasn't her check, came from some company. Rand!"
He jumped. "What is it, for God's sake?"
"That check was from Miramar Investments. I'm sure of it. I showed it to Beadle when it came in. I thought maybe there'd been some mistake. And she told me it wasn't any of my business."
He sighed. "Sounds sensible to me."
"But don't you see? Miramar Investments is just another way of saying Ned Yost. That's his holding company."
Rand was suddenly wide awake. "What's that? Yost paid the bill? Say that again, all of it." She repeated obediently. "Okay, now explain it to me. What's this thing this so-called Jane Baker had… a D&C?"
"Dilatation and curettage. Doctor does them all the time." Lupe reddened. "What it involves is-"
"Never mind, I think I know. Routine feminine surgery. But you say that Salisbury charged her more than usual for it?"
"At least triple. But maybe he knew she was loaded."
"Maybe." He got to his feet and began to pace up and down the kitchen. Something was emerging from the fog in which he'd been groping for days. He still wasn't sure what it would turn out to be, but now he could at least make out a shape, however indistinct.
And, for all his logic, narcotics was not the answer. The stolen narcotics were wholly unimportant, except as a device to explain the disappearance of Lupe. No doubt they were missing, all right-considering the tight inventories that were supposed to be maintained with drugs-but probably they had never left Salisbury's office at all, except via flushing down the drain.
At least, he had come up with all the proper pieces in the proper squares, even though he had based his reasoning on the wrong medical crime. What he had overlooked was Dr. Salisbury's specialization. "Answer me something. What's the only reason a woman would visit a gynecologist under an assumed name?"
She pondered, then said simply, "Because she didn't want her real name known."
"Which means she was hiding something. Like an illegitimate pregnancy, maybe?"
Lupe looked at the newspaper photograph with disbelief. "Oh, that couldn't be-not somebody like her."
"And why does a man, neither her husband nor her father, pay the bill-unless he's the man responsible?" Rand didn't wait for an answer because he was arguing with himself. "And why does the doctor triple his bill for a routine treatment-unless the treatment wasn't routine at all?"
"Rand!" She was staring at him. "You know what you're suggesting?"
"Damn right I do." The shadowy shape was fully visible at last and he viewed it with exultation. "Listen to me, Lupe. Judith Babcock was Yost's girlfriend. And he got her pregnant. Most guys in that situation would take the girl down to Mexico to have her fixed up. But Yost has money and so he sent her to Salisbury instead. I'll bet it wasn't even the first time that Salisbury's done a routine D&C to cover up his friend's carelessness."
"But that makes Doctor an abortionist."
"Well, why not? There's money in it and I got a hunch Salisbury likes money. He's probably been running the racket for years under the cover of his regular practice. Simplest thing in the world, particularly if you've got somebody like Ned Yost to protect you."
Lupe shook his head. "You can't keep that kind of secret. At least, not from the people who work there. Beadle, for instance-"
"Then Beadle must be in on it. And the rest of Salisbury's staff are parolees, like you and that Sherry Martin. Didn't you say that's all he hired, the big philanthropist? Suppose one of the parolees tumbles to what's going on. Is she going to blow the whistle on her sponsor and risk being sent back to prison? Hell, no-not with that kind of axe over her head. She'll keep her mouth shut and that's how Salisbury and Yost figured it." Rand pounded his fists together grimly. "That's where you made your mistake, Lupe. You didn't keep your mouth shut."
"I didn't even know what was going on!" she protested indignantly. "How was I supposed to tell a D&C case from a preggie?"
"You couldn't. And you can bet it didn't show up in the medical files, either."
"I never got near the medical files. I probably couldn't have read them if I wanted to. I was only a clerk. I never expected such high class people to… How could I play the little bird?"
"You noticed Jane Baker's bill and you noticed the check that paid it. Worse, you talked about it to Beadle. You can bet she told Salisbury and you can bet he told Yost. So you had to go, and quietly."
"Just for that? You mean they'd want to kill me for that?"
"There's an election coming up in a few days. Let's say that George Babcock is one of Yost's patsies on the city council, and he's facing a tough fight for re-election. Suppose his opposition-or the newspapers-get hold of the truth about his daughter. Babcock's out, and by the time the dust settles Salisbury would be out too, and so would Ned Yost. That's reason enough for men like that to kill anybody. They just couldn't take a chance on your big mouth."
"Then why didn't they figure I was like the rest of the girls and would keep quiet to save my neck?"
He patted her cheek gently. "Because you're not like the rest of them, sweetheart, and they knew it. You, they had to shut up permanently. So they faked the theft of the narcotics to account for your disappearance and brought you out here to the cistern. And that would have been the end of it."
"Except for you," she murmured.
"Yeah, they even had a deputy sheriff to back up their play in case anything went haywire getting you into the hole. They just didn't figure on running into a suspicious vet and a vicious dog." Rand paused. "You can thank Otto more than me. He detested Thornton from the beginning."
Lupe was silent, not reacting to his excitement. He asked her why. "Well, if what you're saying is right-and I guess it is-I still don't see what it's going to buy us."
"We're not buying, we're selling. Now we can go to the cops-they can't all be working for Yost-I'll bet Broom isn't, for one-and give them something concrete to work on. Maybe now's the time to call in Mrs. Lomax-"
The telephone rang like an echo to his words. He gave Lupe a startled grin. "Maybe that's Broom right now. He said I'd hear from him. And if it is…"
But it wasn't. A woman's high-pitched voice said, "Dr. Hammond? Forgive me for calling you at this time of night but it's an emergency. I'm Mrs. Stauf over at Paradise Mesa. My daughter's horse has been struck by a car. I'm afraid its leg is broken, and I'm hoping you could come out here right away."
It was the last thing in the world he cared to do. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Stauf, but I'm on vacation. Dr. Shields is taking my calls."
"I know, I just talked to his wife. He's out somewhere on another emergency. I don't know anybody else to call who's close enough. Please, Doctor, poor Thunder's in great pain and my daughter is nearly out of her mind. She's only fourteen."
Above Rand's personal desires stood his professional responsibility. So he said reluctantly, "All right, I'll come. Keep the horse quiet until I get there. What's your address, Mrs. Stauf?"
"We're at 3460 Diversion Drive. That's at the far end of the mesa. I'll leave the porch light on."
"I know the area. It'll take me about thirty minutes."
"Doctor, you don't know how much I appreciate-"
He cut her off and explained the situation to Lupe. "I'll hurry as fast as I can. Probably can't do much more than put the beast out of its misery."
"Don't worry, Rand. I'll be all right."
"Why shouldn't I worry? I don't like leaving you alone here." His eyes narrowed. "In fact, I wonder…" He picked up the telephone again and dialed Dr. Shields' unlisted home number. What he learned from his fellow vet's wife eased his mind; Shields had been called out on a dog case and, yes, a woman had phoned there a few minutes before, something about an injured horse, and had been given Rand's number.
"Okay, Lupe, it's genuine. You keep the doors locked and don't let anybody in, understand?"
He drove off after throwing his emergency kit hastily together. Though he pushed the station wagon to the limit, it still took him the full thirty minutes to reach Paradise Mesa, cross its length and locate Diversion Drive. It was a short street and he drove along it, peering at house numbers. The thirty-two hundred block gave way to thirty-three and next should come… Rank braked abruptly. The street came to a dead end. There was no thirty-four hundred block.
As he stared about, bewildered, he heard his name called. A girl darted into the brilliant path carved by his headlights. She was still wearing her pale green medical smock and she waved her arms frantically as if afraid he would not hear her. It was Sherry Martin, Dr. Salisbury's receptionist.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
His first thought was that he had blundered into a trap. He slammed into reverse, ready to crash out of it somehow. Sherry Martin heard the gears clash and she screamed at him, "Wait! Wait! Please don't go!" An urgency in her voice, too real to be faked, made him stop.
She ran up, eyes dazzled by his headlights, and peered into the car. "Is Lupe with you?"
"No, of course not."
"Oh, God," she said. "I was hoping she would be."
Rand felt a quick stab of fear. "Why? How much do you know about this?"
"Not very much, just what I've managed to piece together -and most of it tonight." Sherry Martin drew a deep breath. "And I got no business sticking my two cents in. I'll probably get clobbered for it."
"For God's sake, tell me what you're talking about!"
"I came back to the office tonight to pick up a package I'd forgotten. I've got my own key. When I got there, I saw a light on in Doctor's office and I thought he'd forgotten to turn if off. But then I heard Beadle talking on the phone to somebody-only she was calling herself something else, Mrs.
Stuff or Stiff or-"
"Mrs. Stauf," Rand said.
"And she wasn't using her own voice. So I listened. She was telling somebody that her dog was having convulsions and asking him to come over right away. I know damn well Beadle doesn't have a dog; she can't stand them. Then she called you and gave you that story about her daughter's horse." She stopped for more breath. "By that time, I had it figured this all had something to do with Lupe."
"What made you think Lupe was with me?"
"I'm no bubblehead. I remember how you showed up at the office yesterday-and the way Doctor and Beadle been acting… I never bought that crap about Lupe taking the narcotics. I knew it was a frame and they were after her for some reason, the lousy stinking-"
"Then you know about Salisbury's racket," he interrupted. "Sure, I tumbled the first week I was there. Lupe's the only one who didn't know. She thinks she's so wise and she's innocent as a kittycat. I always had to watch out for her."
"Then why didn't you go to the police?"
Sherry shook her head. "Not me, mac. I'm on parole. I've got to keep my nose clean."
"But you came out here to warn me."
"This is just between you and me, and if anybody ever asks me, I never even heard of you. Soon as I could sneak out of the office, I tried phoning you. There wasn't any answer so I hopped a cab and had it bring me out here. The driver thought I was nuts, getting off in the middle of nowhere. And maybe I am."
Rand covered her hand with his. "You're Lupe's friend. So am I."
"Well, you just make sure they don't scrag her, understand?" Sherry said fiercely. "She's a good kid."
"I'll do my best." Rand revved the engine. "And something tells me I'd better hurry. Sorry to leave you stranded but-"
"Never mind me. I can take care of myself." She stepped back from the window and waved him off like a dispatcher. "Tell Lupe that Mother Martin says hello."
Rand accelerated viciously. The station wagon leaped away with a squeal of tires; before he passed the intersection the speedometer read sixty. Beside it, the dashboard clock told him it was ten minutes past nine. Forty-five minutes since he had left home.
He felt sure that he knew the enemy's intentions. The purpose of the phone call had been to lure him away from the farmhouse, leaving Lupe unprotected. For, although Thornton had been unable to find her that afternoon, there could be little doubt in Yost's mind that she was still there. Hadn't Rand as much as told Yost so? They hadn't dared risk an open invasion, but with him out of the way on a wild goose chase… This argued that Yost at least had respect for him, but it was slight consolation.
His hope was that Lupe, inside the locked house and with her ingenuity to aid her, could put up a delaying: action until he arrived to rescue her. Thanks to Sherry Martin's interference, he had not wandered around aimlessly as they had hoped, seeking a nonexistent horse at a nonexistent address. That much was in his favor. Against him was time and distance, the inflexible arithmetic of miles and minutes that separated him from Lupe.
The night became a blur outside the car windows as he pressed the accelerator flat against the floorboards, racing against the clock whose hands moved steadily onward. When at last he turned through his driveway gate, they stood precisely at nine-thirty.
