said. ‘I can’t talk to your lieutenant right now because he’s not here.’ He looked sideways at him. ‘That Texas Ranger you told me about – how do I get a-hold of him?’
*
When Beale drove back to the Bowen house he found the pickup gone and there was no answer when he rang the bell. He rang a second time but still nobody came to the door so he walked round to the back of the house and peered through the kitchen window. No sign of anybody inside. Walking back to his car, he seemed to ponder before he got in.
Back in Shreveport a few hours later he showed his pass to the guard at the hospital gates. Collecting the tape recorder and his briefcase from the trunk of the car, he walked the length of the road to the main entrance, glancing at the patients who were stable enough to work in the garden.
Inside the building it was cool as he crossed the polished parquet floor to the elevator where an orderly ensured no patient made it up to the suite of offices. He nodded to the doctor and Beale nodded back, and when he got to the third floor he spoke to his secretary.
‘How are things, Alice? Has anyone been in touch?’
A middle-aged woman wearing pearl-white cat-eye spectacles, she looked up from behind the weight of her typewriter. ‘Nothing that was urgent, Doctor: everything here is fine. There’s nothing to report, though don’t forget the meeting with the trustees later.’ She paused briefly before she added. ‘Unless you want me to cancel that, of course: I did tell them you’d gone away and that you might not be back.’
Beale had his office door open. ‘Do that, Alice, would you? Tell them I am back, but I’m busy as hell right now so if it could be rescheduled I’d appreciate it.’
Inside his office he closed the door then placed the tape recorderon the coffee table and unhooked the reel of tape. Sliding that into a cardboard case he marked the label then locked it in the safe with the others. Behind him the phone buzzed on his desk.
‘Yes, Alice?’ he said as he pressed the speaker.
‘Orderly Briers is asking to see you.’
Beale seemed to think about that. ‘Is he out there now?’
‘No sir, he just called from downstairs. Said he saw your car in the parking lot and that he needs to have a quick word.’
Beale made a face. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Have him come up.’
A few minutes later the orderly was standing before Beale’s desk and seemed to regard the doctor a little cautiously.
‘Dr Beale,’ he said, ‘Alice told me you were away for a day or two but she didn’t say where you’d gone.’
Beale looked up. ‘That’s because I didn’t tell her.’
Briers colored slightly, hovering on the balls of his feet. ‘I spoke to Nancy. We talked, the two of us. What’s happening, Doc? What’s going on?’
Beale looked at him for a moment longer then his expression softened. Allowing a little trapped air to escape his lips he sat back in the chair and gazed beyond Briers to the photo of Freud.
‘I went to Texas,’ he said. ‘I went to see Ike Bowen.’
‘Did you?’ Briers’s brow was furrowed. ‘And what did he have to say?’
‘Nothing,’ Beale shifted his attention back to the orderly. ‘He’s dead, Charlie. He blew his brains out.’
Thirteen
When he left Mrs Perkins house Quarrie told Billings he would be back when the phone records came in and then he made the long drive home.
It took him a little over five hours and he found James watching TV in the cottage with Eunice keeping an eye on him. The house was one of three Pick Feeley had built in whitewashed adobe, set alongside the bunkhouse on a piece of flat land a little way below the remodelled ranch house. Quarrie slipped Eunice an extra ten dollars and asked if her brother was about. Eunice told him that he’d been in Houston with Mrs Feeley but the airplane was back in its hangar and he was probably over at the bunkhouse now.
When his son was tucked up in bed, Quarrie crossed the yard to
*
When Beale drove back to the Bowen house he found the pickup gone and there was no answer when he rang the bell. He rang a second time but still nobody came to the door so he walked round to the back of the house and peered through the kitchen window. No sign of anybody inside. Walking back to his car, he seemed to ponder before he got in.
Back in Shreveport a few hours later he showed his pass to the guard at the hospital gates. Collecting the tape recorder and his briefcase from the trunk of the car, he walked the length of the road to the main entrance, glancing at the patients who were stable enough to work in the garden.
Inside the building it was cool as he crossed the polished parquet floor to the elevator where an orderly ensured no patient made it up to the suite of offices. He nodded to the doctor and Beale nodded back, and when he got to the third floor he spoke to his secretary.
‘How are things, Alice? Has anyone been in touch?’
A middle-aged woman wearing pearl-white cat-eye spectacles, she looked up from behind the weight of her typewriter. ‘Nothing that was urgent, Doctor: everything here is fine. There’s nothing to report, though don’t forget the meeting with the trustees later.’ She paused briefly before she added. ‘Unless you want me to cancel that, of course: I did tell them you’d gone away and that you might not be back.’
Beale had his office door open. ‘Do that, Alice, would you? Tell them I am back, but I’m busy as hell right now so if it could be rescheduled I’d appreciate it.’
Inside his office he closed the door then placed the tape recorderon the coffee table and unhooked the reel of tape. Sliding that into a cardboard case he marked the label then locked it in the safe with the others. Behind him the phone buzzed on his desk.
‘Yes, Alice?’ he said as he pressed the speaker.
‘Orderly Briers is asking to see you.’
Beale seemed to think about that. ‘Is he out there now?’
‘No sir, he just called from downstairs. Said he saw your car in the parking lot and that he needs to have a quick word.’
Beale made a face. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Have him come up.’
A few minutes later the orderly was standing before Beale’s desk and seemed to regard the doctor a little cautiously.
‘Dr Beale,’ he said, ‘Alice told me you were away for a day or two but she didn’t say where you’d gone.’
Beale looked up. ‘That’s because I didn’t tell her.’
Briers colored slightly, hovering on the balls of his feet. ‘I spoke to Nancy. We talked, the two of us. What’s happening, Doc? What’s going on?’
Beale looked at him for a moment longer then his expression softened. Allowing a little trapped air to escape his lips he sat back in the chair and gazed beyond Briers to the photo of Freud.
‘I went to Texas,’ he said. ‘I went to see Ike Bowen.’
‘Did you?’ Briers’s brow was furrowed. ‘And what did he have to say?’
‘Nothing,’ Beale shifted his attention back to the orderly. ‘He’s dead, Charlie. He blew his brains out.’
Thirteen
When he left Mrs Perkins house Quarrie told Billings he would be back when the phone records came in and then he made the long drive home.
It took him a little over five hours and he found James watching TV in the cottage with Eunice keeping an eye on him. The house was one of three Pick Feeley had built in whitewashed adobe, set alongside the bunkhouse on a piece of flat land a little way below the remodelled ranch house. Quarrie slipped Eunice an extra ten dollars and asked if her brother was about. Eunice told him that he’d been in Houston with Mrs Feeley but the airplane was back in its hangar and he was probably over at the bunkhouse now.
When his son was tucked up in bed, Quarrie crossed the yard to
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