The Burglar Who Traded Ted Williams by Lawrence Block Page B

make out,” I said, “the message seemed to be that crime paid just fine until the last frame. She threw out my comic books, too. You know something? It still bothers me.”
    “Bernie—”
    “So I can imagine how Mr. Gilmartin must feel, and I’m not saying it was his mother who did it, but I think he ought to rule out the possibility before he goes around accusing other people. I can tell you one thing for sure, Ray. I had nothing to do with it.”
    “You denyin’ that you called him last night?”
    How could he possibly have known about the phone call?
    “Maybe it’s not a good idea for me to confirm or deny anything,” I said slowly. “Maybe I ought to talk to my lawyer first.”
    “You know,” he said, “that’s probably exactly what you ought to do. Tell you what, Bern. I’ll read you your Miranda rights, an’ then you an’ me’ll head over to Central Bookin’, an’ we’ll see about gettin’ you mugged an’ printed. Then you can give Wally Hemphill a call. If he ain’t doin’ laps around Central Park, maybe he can help you decide what to remember about last night.”
    “Don’t read me my rights.”
    “You remember ’em from last time, huh? It don’t matter, Bern. I gotta go by the book.”
    With the marathon coming up, Wally might not be that easy to get hold of. Who else could I call, Doll Cooper?
    “I guess there’s no reason not to talk,” I said slowly. “Since I didn’t do anything wrong, why not clear the air?”
    He smiled, looking more like a shark than ever.
     
    First I locked the door and hung the “Back in Ten Minutes” sign in the window. I didn’t want customers to disturb us while I straightened things out with Ray, and I could use a minute or two to get my thoughts in order.
    On the one hand, it was ridiculous to get mugged and printed and thrown in a holding cell for a couple of hours for a crime that I’d had nothing to do with. At the same time, I had to be careful what I said or I’d simply be swapping the Gilmartin skillet for the Nugent bonfire.
    I bought myself a few extra seconds by freshening the water in Raffles’ bowl. I was tempted to feed him again while I was at it, and I don’t suppose he would have given me an argument, but he’d already had one extra meal that day. At this rate his mousing days would soon be over.
    “All right,” I told Ray. “I’m ready to talk now.”
    “You sure you don’t want to take a little time to rearrange the stock on your shelves?”
    I ignored that. “I called Gilmartin,” I said. “I admit it.”
    “Well, hallelujah.”
    “But it had nothing to do with a burglary. I really have retired, Ray, whether you’re prepared to believe it or not. Look, I’d better start at the beginning.”
    “Why not?”
    “Carolyn and I went out after work yesterday,” I said.
    “You always do,” he said. “The Bum Rap, right?”
    I nodded. “I’ve been under a little pressure lately,” I said, “and I guess I let it get to me. The long and short of it is I had more to drink than I usually do.”
    “Hey, it happens.”
    “It does,” I agreed, “but not to me, not that often, and I wasn’t used to it. I got silly.”
    “Silly?”
    “You know. Playful, goofy.”
    “I bet it was somethin’ to see.”
    “You should have been there. Anyway, Carolyn and I spent the whole evening together. From the Bum Rap we went to an Italian restaurant for dinner, and then we went back to her place on Arbor Court. That’s where I was when I called Mr. Gilmartin.”
    He nodded, as if I’d just passed some sort of test.
    “I don’t know how it started,” I went on. “I was still a little drunk, I guess, and I got into this routine where I was finding funny names in the telephone book. I was picking out names and reading them aloud to Carolyn and making jokes.”
    “The two of you were makin’ fun of people’s names, Bern?”
    “It was mostly my doing,” I said, “and I’m not proud of it, but what can I say? It