now though, there isn’t much I can prove.”
“You and your handwriting expert are absolutely sure it can’t be Jackie?”
“Yes.”
“One of the other young people?”
“Yes,” answered Easy. “In another day or so I should be able to give you a complete report. Not only about the letters, but about the yacht trip.”
McCleary said, “Keep at it, of course. Another few hundred dollars doesn’t matter to me.” He paused and a new expression touched his face, a look of surprised pain.
Easy said, “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not ill, don’t worry.” McCleary touched his chest, exhaled. “No, I simply just had a strong premonition that what you’re going to find out will break my heart.”
After a silence Easy said, “It may.”
Sighing, the old man said, “The island. I can still see it very clearly. Jackie loved the weekends we hired a boat and went out to San Obito. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight then. Such a lovely, coltish little thing, so straight and dark and smiling. She was a lovely child, Easy.” He rubbed a tired hand across the lower part of his face. “Her favorite spot was the abandoned dance pavilion. You knew San Obito was once quite a fashionable resort. I spent some frantic days there in the early 1930’s when it was still operating.”
“Where’s the dance pavilion?”
“It’s an enormous glass-domed building up on a cliff overlooking the sea. Built in a pseudo-Victorian style. Wonderful place for an imaginative child to play,” said the old man. “What does that have to do with what you’re working on?”
Easy didn’t answer.
XIII
M ARINA WAS SITTING IN a bentwood chair with her long legs straight out and her bare feet resting on a squat, antique apple barrel. She was wearing a white half-slip and reading a paperback book on ecology.
Easy came wandering in out of the hazy afternoon. “Why don’t you lock your doors? Suppose I was the Black Dahlia killer.”
The long, tan girl steepled the book on her lap. “You’d be an old man if you were. He did most of his work back in the forties, didn’t he?”
“Some of those old guys are tough.” Easy was carrying his coat over his shoulder and he hung it now on an eagle-headed clothes pole. “I had breakfast with one.”
“With an old killer?”
“An old detective.”
“Speaking of food, do you want me to fix you a late lunch?”
“No, Hagopian donated me a sandwich. How’s school?”
“Crowded,” said the auburn-haired girl. “We really have to do something about zero population growth.”
Easy stopped a few feet from her. “And you shouldn’t sit around without your clothes off. A gorilla might break in here and paint you blue.”
“Is there a wave of that going on?”
“According to the head of Ottstuff Enterprises,” said Easy. “He had some very interesting photos to document his charges.”
Marina reached up and tangled her left hand in her hair. Her left breast ticked up and down. “Sometimes I think I’m too honest and forthright.”
Easy had placed his palm over the bobbing breast. “How so?”
“Because I’m going to tell you your secretary called about a half hour ago and said it was very important.”
The left nipple poked erect between his spread fingers. “Important, but not urgent?”
“I think she mentioned urgent, too.” Marina caught hold of him and pressed herself up against him. After she’d kissed him, she asked, “Are you torn between love and duty?”
Easy grimaced. “I hate to admit it, but I am.” He made a grunting sound. “Okay, this will be my contribution to zero population growth.” He let go of the lovely, tan girl and moved to the antique sideboard which served as a phone table. He dialed his office.
“Easy & Associates, Detective Services.”
“Hi, Nan. What’s urgent?”
His secretary said, “Mitch Stammsky. He called twice, right after you left to see McCleary. I think he has some information to sell you. He
“You and your handwriting expert are absolutely sure it can’t be Jackie?”
“Yes.”
“One of the other young people?”
“Yes,” answered Easy. “In another day or so I should be able to give you a complete report. Not only about the letters, but about the yacht trip.”
McCleary said, “Keep at it, of course. Another few hundred dollars doesn’t matter to me.” He paused and a new expression touched his face, a look of surprised pain.
Easy said, “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not ill, don’t worry.” McCleary touched his chest, exhaled. “No, I simply just had a strong premonition that what you’re going to find out will break my heart.”
After a silence Easy said, “It may.”
Sighing, the old man said, “The island. I can still see it very clearly. Jackie loved the weekends we hired a boat and went out to San Obito. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight then. Such a lovely, coltish little thing, so straight and dark and smiling. She was a lovely child, Easy.” He rubbed a tired hand across the lower part of his face. “Her favorite spot was the abandoned dance pavilion. You knew San Obito was once quite a fashionable resort. I spent some frantic days there in the early 1930’s when it was still operating.”
“Where’s the dance pavilion?”
“It’s an enormous glass-domed building up on a cliff overlooking the sea. Built in a pseudo-Victorian style. Wonderful place for an imaginative child to play,” said the old man. “What does that have to do with what you’re working on?”
Easy didn’t answer.
XIII
M ARINA WAS SITTING IN a bentwood chair with her long legs straight out and her bare feet resting on a squat, antique apple barrel. She was wearing a white half-slip and reading a paperback book on ecology.
Easy came wandering in out of the hazy afternoon. “Why don’t you lock your doors? Suppose I was the Black Dahlia killer.”
The long, tan girl steepled the book on her lap. “You’d be an old man if you were. He did most of his work back in the forties, didn’t he?”
“Some of those old guys are tough.” Easy was carrying his coat over his shoulder and he hung it now on an eagle-headed clothes pole. “I had breakfast with one.”
“With an old killer?”
“An old detective.”
“Speaking of food, do you want me to fix you a late lunch?”
“No, Hagopian donated me a sandwich. How’s school?”
“Crowded,” said the auburn-haired girl. “We really have to do something about zero population growth.”
Easy stopped a few feet from her. “And you shouldn’t sit around without your clothes off. A gorilla might break in here and paint you blue.”
“Is there a wave of that going on?”
“According to the head of Ottstuff Enterprises,” said Easy. “He had some very interesting photos to document his charges.”
Marina reached up and tangled her left hand in her hair. Her left breast ticked up and down. “Sometimes I think I’m too honest and forthright.”
Easy had placed his palm over the bobbing breast. “How so?”
“Because I’m going to tell you your secretary called about a half hour ago and said it was very important.”
The left nipple poked erect between his spread fingers. “Important, but not urgent?”
“I think she mentioned urgent, too.” Marina caught hold of him and pressed herself up against him. After she’d kissed him, she asked, “Are you torn between love and duty?”
Easy grimaced. “I hate to admit it, but I am.” He made a grunting sound. “Okay, this will be my contribution to zero population growth.” He let go of the lovely, tan girl and moved to the antique sideboard which served as a phone table. He dialed his office.
“Easy & Associates, Detective Services.”
“Hi, Nan. What’s urgent?”
His secretary said, “Mitch Stammsky. He called twice, right after you left to see McCleary. I think he has some information to sell you. He
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