I stared at her. She didn’t look over eighteen. “How did you get mixed up with anybody like Shennary?”
She stared back at me. “Don’t think he tried to kid me. He told me right off he had a record and he was on parole. I kidded myself he was going to play it straight from now on. He was just another date. He knew I’d done some playing around. It was for kicks. Then … Oh, hell, I really started to go for him. You can’t help a thing like that. I knew he was no good. Mean temper. Thought everybody was down on him. Knocked me around when he felt like it. But we’d make up, and then I’d do anything for him. That’s something you don’t figure out in your head, Mr. Dean.”
“What kind of a man is he, really?”
“Like I said, he thinks everything is against him and so he acts hard. But he’s soft underneath. Likes kids and dogs and things like that. He just started out wrong. I guess I did too. We were brought up three blocks apart on the north side, but we never knew each other, him being older. That’s funny, isn’t it? He wouldn’t kill anybody, Mr. Dean, unless maybe he had to keep from getting killed himself.”
“Is he bright?”
She shrugged. “Too bright to hold onto a gun if he killed somebody with it, if that’s what you mean.”
“I don’t see how you can ever convince Portugal that he was here with you.”
She drained the last of her drink and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “Look, Mr. Dean. They don’t want to try to think straight about it. I didn’t tell the sergeant this. Maybe I should have. Come over here.” She went over to the bureau and pulled the second drawer all the way out and stood holding it. “Now light a match and look back in there.”
I did. There was an automatic back there, held in place by a strip of heavy rubber that had been thumbtacked to the wood. I straightened up.
She replaced the drawer, banging it shut. “That’s his. He didn’t want it over at his place in case he got picked up or something. He thought it would be better here. So why would he have another one over there? Does that make sense?”
I had to agree that it seemed odd.
“Another thing,” she said. “He told me how he worked. Never with anybody. Always alone. He said it was safer. So I ask you, who sent in that phone tip? How would anybody know? Forget he was right here all the time. Just imagine he did shoot your brother. How would anybody know that if he was alone?”
She looked at me with defiance and shrewdness. “You see,” she said, “it’s like Wally figures. He’s an easy answer, and the killing is off the books. They don’t want to listen to anything that makes sense. He has to lose on that supermarket thing. He knows that. Will you laugh if I tell you something?”
“I don’t think so, Lita.”
“Make you another drink first?”
“No thanks.”
“I’ll make me one.” She made it quickly and came back in her bare feet and sat as before. “I’ve been working on Wally. In my own way.” She seemed shy. “I wanted tomarry the guy. And I don’t want to marry a crook. I think in another week or so I could have gotten him to turn himself in. Look at this.” She padded to the bureau, dug around in the top drawer, and brought back something I’d missed in my search, a small blue bankbook with gilt lettering. “Go ahead. Look at it.”
There were no withdrawals. There were deposits of two and five and nine and eleven dollars. The total was just under nine hundred. I handed it back to her.
“That’s what we kept fighting about, but he was weakening. Sooner or later I was going to make him see that we could give back the money he took and turn himself in and maybe he could get off with just serving the rest of the sentence he was paroled from, and that’s only two years. Two years more. Or suppose it’s five? I can take that. So can he. But I can’t take it if they clip him with this murder thing. I—can’t.”
“I don’t see
She stared back at me. “Don’t think he tried to kid me. He told me right off he had a record and he was on parole. I kidded myself he was going to play it straight from now on. He was just another date. He knew I’d done some playing around. It was for kicks. Then … Oh, hell, I really started to go for him. You can’t help a thing like that. I knew he was no good. Mean temper. Thought everybody was down on him. Knocked me around when he felt like it. But we’d make up, and then I’d do anything for him. That’s something you don’t figure out in your head, Mr. Dean.”
“What kind of a man is he, really?”
“Like I said, he thinks everything is against him and so he acts hard. But he’s soft underneath. Likes kids and dogs and things like that. He just started out wrong. I guess I did too. We were brought up three blocks apart on the north side, but we never knew each other, him being older. That’s funny, isn’t it? He wouldn’t kill anybody, Mr. Dean, unless maybe he had to keep from getting killed himself.”
“Is he bright?”
She shrugged. “Too bright to hold onto a gun if he killed somebody with it, if that’s what you mean.”
“I don’t see how you can ever convince Portugal that he was here with you.”
She drained the last of her drink and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “Look, Mr. Dean. They don’t want to try to think straight about it. I didn’t tell the sergeant this. Maybe I should have. Come over here.” She went over to the bureau and pulled the second drawer all the way out and stood holding it. “Now light a match and look back in there.”
I did. There was an automatic back there, held in place by a strip of heavy rubber that had been thumbtacked to the wood. I straightened up.
She replaced the drawer, banging it shut. “That’s his. He didn’t want it over at his place in case he got picked up or something. He thought it would be better here. So why would he have another one over there? Does that make sense?”
I had to agree that it seemed odd.
“Another thing,” she said. “He told me how he worked. Never with anybody. Always alone. He said it was safer. So I ask you, who sent in that phone tip? How would anybody know? Forget he was right here all the time. Just imagine he did shoot your brother. How would anybody know that if he was alone?”
She looked at me with defiance and shrewdness. “You see,” she said, “it’s like Wally figures. He’s an easy answer, and the killing is off the books. They don’t want to listen to anything that makes sense. He has to lose on that supermarket thing. He knows that. Will you laugh if I tell you something?”
“I don’t think so, Lita.”
“Make you another drink first?”
“No thanks.”
“I’ll make me one.” She made it quickly and came back in her bare feet and sat as before. “I’ve been working on Wally. In my own way.” She seemed shy. “I wanted tomarry the guy. And I don’t want to marry a crook. I think in another week or so I could have gotten him to turn himself in. Look at this.” She padded to the bureau, dug around in the top drawer, and brought back something I’d missed in my search, a small blue bankbook with gilt lettering. “Go ahead. Look at it.”
There were no withdrawals. There were deposits of two and five and nine and eleven dollars. The total was just under nine hundred. I handed it back to her.
“That’s what we kept fighting about, but he was weakening. Sooner or later I was going to make him see that we could give back the money he took and turn himself in and maybe he could get off with just serving the rest of the sentence he was paroled from, and that’s only two years. Two years more. Or suppose it’s five? I can take that. So can he. But I can’t take it if they clip him with this murder thing. I—can’t.”
“I don’t see
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