“You thought she’d killed Peter, didn’t you,” I said in a comfortable tone. “And you felt caught by her choosing you to confide in. You didn’t want to betray her, but you didn’t want to be involved in a murder. So you were relieved to have a promise to fall back on.”
Ruth gave a little sigh, half laugh, that came ghostily over the line. “Yes, that was it exactly. You’re smarter than I thought you were. I hadn’t realized Anita might be in danger herself—that was why she sounded so scared. Anyway, I called her. We’ve been talking for several hours. She’s never heard of you and We’ve been debating whether we can trust you.” She paused and I was quiet. “I think we have to. That’s what it boils down to. If it’s true, if there really are some mob people after her—it all sounds surreal, but she says you’re right.”
“Where is she?” I asked gently.
“Up in Wisconsin. I’ll take you to her.”
“No. Tell me where she is, and I’ll find her. I’m being followed, and it’ll just double the danger to try to meet up with you.”
“Then I won’t tell you where she is,” Ruth said. “ My agreement with her was that I would bring you to her.”
“you’ve been a good friend, Ruth, and you’ve carried a heavy load. But if the people who are after Anita find out you know where she is, and suspect you’re in her confidence, your own life is in danger. Let me run the risk—it’s my job, after all.”
We argued for several more minutes, but Ruth let herself be persuaded. She’d been under a tremendous strain for the five days since Anita had first called her, and she was glad to let someone else take it over. Anita was in Hartford, a little town northwest of Milwaukee. She was working as a waitress in a café. She’d cut her red hair short and dyed it black, and she was calling herself Jody Hill. If I left now, I could catch her just as the café opened for breakfast in the morning.
It was after four when I hung up. I felt refreshed and alert, as if I’d slept soundly for eight hours instead of tossing miserably for three.
Lotty was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading. “Lotty, I do apologize. You get little enough sleep as it is. But I think this is the beginning of the end.”
“Ah, good,” she said, putting a marker in her book and shutting it. “The missing girl?”
“Yes. That was a friend who gave me the address. All I have to do now is get away from here without being seen.”
“Where is she?” I hesitated. “My dear, I’ve been questioned by tougher experts than these Smeissen hoodlums. And perhaps someone else should know.”
I grinned. “You’re right.” I told her, then added, “The question is, what about Jill? We were going to go up to Winnetka tomorrow—today, that is—to see if her father had any papers that might explain his connection with Masters and McGraw. Now maybe Anita can make that tie-in for me. But I’d still be happier to get Jill back up there. This whole arrangement—Paul under the dining-room table, Jill and the babies—makes me uncomfortable. If she wants to come back for the rest of the summer, sure—she can stay with me once this mess is cleared up. But for now—let’s get her back home.”
Lotty pursed her lips and stared into her coffee cup for several minutes. Finally she said, “Yes. I believe you’re right. She’s much better—two good nights of sleep, with calm people who like her—she can probably go back to her family. I agree. The whole thing with Paul is too volatile. Very sweet, but too volatile in such a cramped space.”
“My car is across from the Conrad Hilton downtown. I can’t take it—it’s being watched. Maybe Paul can pick it up tomorrow, take Jill home. I’ll be back here tomorrow night, say good-bye, and give you a little privacy.”
“Do you want to take my car?” Lotty suggested.
I thought it over. “Where are you parked?”
“Out front. Across the street.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to get away from here without being seen. I don’t know that your place is being watched—but these guys want Anita McGraw very badly. And they did call earlier to make sure I was here.”
Lotty got up and turned out the kitchen light. She looked out the window, concealed partly by a hanging geranium and thin gauze curtains. “I don’t see anyone…. Why not wake up Paul? He can take my car, drive it around the block a few times. Then, if no one follows him, he can pick you up in the alley. You drop him down the street.”
“I don’t like it. You’ll be without a car, and when he comes back on foot, if there is someone out there, they’ll be suspicious.”
“Vic, my dear, it’s not like you to be so full of quibbles. We won’t be without a car—we’ll have yours. As for the second—” She thought a minute. “Ah! Drop Paul at the clinic. He can finish his sleep there. We have a bed, for nights when Carol or I have to stay over.”
I laughed. “can’t think of any more quibbles, Lotty. Let’s wake up Paul and give it a try.”