questioningly. The servant went quietly away. I asked, “Him …?”
“Malone, that little bastard. I went to the funeral, just to please my daughter. But it didn’t do any good. She didn’t even come home with me. I want to know about him, Callahan, him and that niece of Giovanni’s.” He took a breath. “Her—and all the others, too. I want you to work on it. I’ll show her what kind of man she was married to.”
I continued to stare.
He said, “Sit down.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Could you lower your voice? My hearing is good.”
“Don’t get smart with me,” he said.
I sat down. “I won’t if you won’t. I already have a client, Mr. Duster. I’m not in the scandal business.”
“Don’t con me. All you peepers are in the scandal racket. You couldn’t stay alive without divorce work, not you small-time operators.”
I thought of Jan and kept my voice polite. I said, “Mr. Duster, you are taller than I am, but I’m wider. Because you are also richer than I am, I’m trying to be patient. But don’t push it.”
Now, he stared. He picked at a rear tooth with his tongue and looked at me thoughtfully. Finally he said, “You are a big son-of-a-bitch at that, aren’t you?”
I said nothing.
He looked past me, out at the blue slate pool. “I love her. She’s all I’ve got. Absolutely all .” His face was bleak.
I continued to say nothing.
He looked at the clouds. “Rain coming.”
“I know,” I said. “I can feel it in my bad knee.”
“You got one, too?” He went over to sit in the deck chair again. He rubbed his left knee and said, “She’s a wonderful girl. No spite in her, no malice, nothing petty. And then to get tied up with a creep like that …”
“He seemed to have an unusual attraction for women,” I said. “Maybe he brought out the maternal in them.”
“Hmmmmm!” he said. “Had trouble with a couple of minors, too, didn’t he?”
“That’s what I’ve heard, Mr. Duster. I didn’t check it. I think he was a minor, too, at the time, so the records wouldn’t be open to me.”
“Or anybody else,” he said. “But I happen to know it’s true. Do you think it made any difference to my daughter? About him, she wouldn’t listen to nothing.”
Love, I thought. Love, love love … I was silent.
“Who’s your client?” he asked.
“Harry Adler,” I said.
His laugh was short and bitter. “Like hell! Harry wouldn’t spend his money like that. It’s my daughter’s money Harry is spending.”
“Probably. Mr. Duster, I can guess that you spent some money, too, investigating Tip Malone. Am I right?”
“You’re right. And I’ll tell you who else spent some money on him, because we talked it over—Frank Giovanni. We compared reports.”
“Then what could I tell you that you don’t already know?” I asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “You’d have to tell me. I’d make it worth your while—you can be damned sure of that.”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t sell information except to my clients. And I already have one.”
“And you didn’t even tell her about Giovanni’s niece,” he said.
“That’s right. I didn’t see that it would serve any purpose, once Malone was killed. You see, all your daughter worried about was the possibility of Tip getting involved with Frank Giovanni. She thought it would stop his racing career.”
“Oh, man!” he said harshly. He rubbed the knee and looked at me quietly for a second. Then, “I’m going to tell you something I maybe shouldn’t, and I don’t want it to go into any damned report, either.” He waited.
“Okay,” I said, “if that’s the only condition under which you’ll tell me.”
“I want your word,” he said.
“You’ve got it.”
He spoke quietly and distinctly. “Giovanni told me that for ten grand I could have the little bastard bumped. It would be sweet and clean and professional. It would look like an accident. That’s the gospel truth.”
I
“Malone, that little bastard. I went to the funeral, just to please my daughter. But it didn’t do any good. She didn’t even come home with me. I want to know about him, Callahan, him and that niece of Giovanni’s.” He took a breath. “Her—and all the others, too. I want you to work on it. I’ll show her what kind of man she was married to.”
I continued to stare.
He said, “Sit down.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Could you lower your voice? My hearing is good.”
“Don’t get smart with me,” he said.
I sat down. “I won’t if you won’t. I already have a client, Mr. Duster. I’m not in the scandal business.”
“Don’t con me. All you peepers are in the scandal racket. You couldn’t stay alive without divorce work, not you small-time operators.”
I thought of Jan and kept my voice polite. I said, “Mr. Duster, you are taller than I am, but I’m wider. Because you are also richer than I am, I’m trying to be patient. But don’t push it.”
Now, he stared. He picked at a rear tooth with his tongue and looked at me thoughtfully. Finally he said, “You are a big son-of-a-bitch at that, aren’t you?”
I said nothing.
He looked past me, out at the blue slate pool. “I love her. She’s all I’ve got. Absolutely all .” His face was bleak.
I continued to say nothing.
He looked at the clouds. “Rain coming.”
“I know,” I said. “I can feel it in my bad knee.”
“You got one, too?” He went over to sit in the deck chair again. He rubbed his left knee and said, “She’s a wonderful girl. No spite in her, no malice, nothing petty. And then to get tied up with a creep like that …”
“He seemed to have an unusual attraction for women,” I said. “Maybe he brought out the maternal in them.”
“Hmmmmm!” he said. “Had trouble with a couple of minors, too, didn’t he?”
“That’s what I’ve heard, Mr. Duster. I didn’t check it. I think he was a minor, too, at the time, so the records wouldn’t be open to me.”
“Or anybody else,” he said. “But I happen to know it’s true. Do you think it made any difference to my daughter? About him, she wouldn’t listen to nothing.”
Love, I thought. Love, love love … I was silent.
“Who’s your client?” he asked.
“Harry Adler,” I said.
His laugh was short and bitter. “Like hell! Harry wouldn’t spend his money like that. It’s my daughter’s money Harry is spending.”
“Probably. Mr. Duster, I can guess that you spent some money, too, investigating Tip Malone. Am I right?”
“You’re right. And I’ll tell you who else spent some money on him, because we talked it over—Frank Giovanni. We compared reports.”
“Then what could I tell you that you don’t already know?” I asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “You’d have to tell me. I’d make it worth your while—you can be damned sure of that.”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t sell information except to my clients. And I already have one.”
“And you didn’t even tell her about Giovanni’s niece,” he said.
“That’s right. I didn’t see that it would serve any purpose, once Malone was killed. You see, all your daughter worried about was the possibility of Tip getting involved with Frank Giovanni. She thought it would stop his racing career.”
“Oh, man!” he said harshly. He rubbed the knee and looked at me quietly for a second. Then, “I’m going to tell you something I maybe shouldn’t, and I don’t want it to go into any damned report, either.” He waited.
“Okay,” I said, “if that’s the only condition under which you’ll tell me.”
“I want your word,” he said.
“You’ve got it.”
He spoke quietly and distinctly. “Giovanni told me that for ten grand I could have the little bastard bumped. It would be sweet and clean and professional. It would look like an accident. That’s the gospel truth.”
I
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