Chapter 10

After I purchased a fifth of whiskey and a small bottle of iodine in an all-night drug store, I drove over to Helen's apartment, but she wasn't at home. I remembered then that this was the night for her bowling league, and that she always stayed all night with a girl friend after bowling because it usually was late when they wound up.

I sat in my car, opened the bottle, imbibed a few stiff drinks, then put the bottle in the glove compartment. The whiskey had fixed me so I didn't feel the pain of the bite so badly, and also had fired my brain. All at once, I lost the urge to loaf. I had to tackle Lorette, and this was as good a time as any to do so.

I would bluff my way with her, pretend to know more than I did.

She was a pretty cagey customer. She hadn't shown the slightest evidence of guilt, so far. Had I not eavesdropped on the conversation between Red and her, she would have been my nominee as the least likely suspect. Funny how people can fool you, especially a pretty female. They have one strike against you, just with a come-hither look.

As soon as I reached the carny grounds and got out of my car, Sleepy rushed over to me.

"I've got to talk to you in private," he said.

"What's wrong with our talking right here? No one can hear us."

"I know, but someone might see us. What I have to say is strictly private."

"Get in my car then. I'll drive to my motel. It will be private there."

I thought we might share a few drinks, so I took the bottle along. As soon as we got in the door, I poured two big ones. We sat and sipped them, without chasers.

Sleepy's eyes were troubled.

"Well, what's so important that you demand complete privacy?" I asked.

"Now that we're here, I don't know where to begin," he said.

"Why not start at the beginning, Sleepy?"

"Okay. But I don't know exactly what to say, or how to say it. I've never squealed on anyone before." He paused, squirming around in the chair.

I was becoming impatient. "Speak up, Sleepy. I don't have all night."

"Look Donlon, I've got to tell this in my own way. As I said, I've never ratted on a fellow trooper before, and if it wasn't for Mom Carter, her being such a swell old gal, I wouldn't consider telling you a damn thing!" he almost shouted.

His reluctance to talk was getting under my skin. I felt as unnerved as a patient under the dentist's drill. "If you've got something important to tell me, get it off your chest. Give me the facts."

He spoke abruptly. "Well, for one thing, I know Sheik was blackmailing Lorette."

I swore softly. "Is that all? Is that what this mumbo-jumbo act is all about?"

Sleepy gave a triumphant snort. "Oh, I know a few more things!"

"Such as?" I encouraged.

Sleepy jiggled a cigar nervously around in his mouth. "It's taking a lot of guts on my part, to come here. You see, I could lose my job, and if some of the carnies found out I had diarrhea of the mouth, I could get my brains kicked out. There's Mom, too, and I can't let her die for something she didn't do."

I made a threatening gesture with my fist toward Sleepy. "So help me, Sleepy, if you don't tell me what you're implying, I'll wring your neck."

Sleepy sank back farther into his chair.

"The night Sheik was murdered, I'd been at Dimple's trailer, drinking. I really had a snootful. When I left to go home, I stopped by the girl-show top, and leaned against a stake. I was sick, and I vomited. I must've passed out, right there. I don't know how long I was indisposed, but a pistol shot brought me to in a hurry. I got up on my feet and stagged toward the opening in the top. Then I saw Lorette, but she didn't see me. She came running out of the girl-show top in a hurry, and as she ran, I saw her put something in her purse. It looked like a gun. Lorette was pale as a ghost."

I had leaned forward on the edge of my seat, listening to him. "Well, I'll damned!"

Sleepy slid down from his chair and peered at me, agitation in his voice. "See why I was hesitant about telling you?"

I got up from my chair. "I understand, Sleepy, and I appreciate your telling me."

He tossed me a worried look. "You don't have to tell anyone, especially Sam or Lorette, that I fingered her, do you?"

"Don't worry about that, Sleepy. It'll be our secret."

"That's swell of you, Donlon. I'll run along now, and let you get on with your other business."

"Okay, Sleepy, and thanks for the information."

He left. I tossed off another shot of whiskey, then thought I had better get some strong black coffee before I tackled Lorette.

"Been down to see Mom Carter yet?" Whitey, the counterman, asked after I had ordered the coffee.

"Not yet. I was going to this morning, but I have some business to take care of first."

Whitey gave me a penetrating stare, his face one big question mark. Like a six-year-old's on his first trip to Disneyland.

"You don't have any new leads, do you?" he asked.

"I'm not free to say yet, Whitey."

His disappointment showed. "I just don't believe Mom Carter capable of murder," he said, firmly.

Ruby had been standing at the coffee urn, running hot water through. Now she strolled over. "If Nellie's guilty of murder, I'm a ballet dancer." She gave a disdainful sniff. As far as she was concerned, the matter was closed.

After drinking coffee, I felt better. I headed for Sam's trailer and rapped lightly on the door. Lorette opened it and stood framed in the doorway, making I'll admit, a luscious picture.

Her smile was brilliant as her eyes took the grand tour over every inch of my anatomy. Her voice was a caress. "Oh Steve, it's you. Come in."

I hesitated. "Is Sam here?"

Her eyelashes fanned at me.

"No, he isn't," she cooed. "Are you disappointed?"

I smiled, but grimly. "As a matter-of-fact, I'm glad. I wanted to see you alone."

As I figured she would, she got the wrong impression. She pulled at my arm with the eagerness of a frustrated old maid who had just won a husband in a quiz contest.

I disengaged myself with difficulty. "Cut it, Lorette. Our conversation is going to be strictly business. I didn't come here to get scarfed."

She drew back, one eyebrow arched and mocked, "Business, Steve? I don't understand."

I stood, running my fingers along my hat brim, wondering how to start. I decided to just let her have it.

"Lorette, you killed Sheik and Pierre," I blurted.

A cunning look came into her eyes. "Oh, you've been out in the sun too long, Steve."

"Have I? I doubt it."

"You couldn't possibly believe me capable of murder, could you, Steve?"

"Cut it, Lorette. I know you were the last one to see Sheik alive."

"I was not. You don't have a damn thing on me.

I lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag, thinking, this doll is going to be tough to pin down.

"You can quit lying, Lorette. There was a witness."

She gave a strained laugh and her voice was like a lash. "Don't be ridiculous. Someone else has been lyfng, that's all. I wasn't there."

My thoughts formed themselves into words, almost without my volition. "Brother, you really are a hard-boiled bitch, aren't you?"

It didn't phase her. She stared at me, coldly. "What would be my motive?"

"Your affair with Sheik. The old saw, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,' and the great lover did throw you over, baby. Not only that, but he tried to blackmail you, and he really had you up the creek without a paddle."

Her reaction was totally unexpected. She reached into her purse, pullet out the .32 and aimed it right at my head. Her eyes blazed.

"Stand back, you half-baked imitation fuzz," She grated. "No one is going to take me to jail, not you or any other lowsy cop. Sure, I killed Shiek and Pierre, both. And don't think I would hesitate about adding you to the list."

A muscle in her cheek twitched nervously. Her eyes were maniacal. I would have to be a damned fool not to be scared.

I decided my best bet would be to try to play it cool. I edged closer to her, very cautiously. "It's all over, Lorette. Give me the rod. You don't want to do any more killing."

As I spoke, as I tried to approach her, my eyes never left the damn gun. That was my mistake.

Her other hand reached behind her, clasping a sharp bread knife. I saw the flash of the blade as it whizzed toward me, cutting the air.

I tried to sidestep, but it was too late. I was knocked down by the impact of the knife as it struck bone. I felt blood oozing, was aware of my own labored breathing. Confused by pain, I tried to get up. Lorette became a still-menacing blur. The last sound I heard was her demoniacal laughter....

Then, a rocket ship was heading straight for the moon, and I was in it. An astronaut in a capsule ... the only thing was that I never did get into orbit. Instead, I turned into a fiery ball soaring into space ... toward a black endless place of no return ... then there was complete oblivion.

As I regained consciousness, the odor of antiseptic filled my nostrils. A doctor was bending over me, dressing my chest wound.

"Hurry it up," I said, thickly. "I've got a murder to wrap up."

"Take it easy, kid," the medic advised. "There's a visitor waiting to see you."

I saw Sheriff Johnson hovering in the doorway. At the doctor's nod, he moved in to stand beside me.

"Good thing you're just too mean to die, Donlon," the sheriff said, with a mischievous twinkle.

"Why, Johnson, I didn't know you cared," I retorted.

"How's your wounds?"

I flushed. I knew what his emphasis on the plural was leading up to.

"Oh, brother. I suppose you found out about where the chimp bit me," I said, resignedly.

Johnson laughed so hard, he shook all over. "It's all over the Midway. I think, if I ever get another carnival case, I'll have treatment for chimp bites included in the officer's handbook. Don't you think that would be a good idea?"

"Oh, you're a real riot, you are. Cut the comedy and cue me in on what's been cooking."

"Lorette is in the cooler for a long, long spell, I would say. We finally broke her down to where she made a full confession. It's a good thing she's out of circulation. That broad is as deadly as a black widow spider."

"Who brought me to the hospital?"

"Deputy Nickles and I drove out to the lot to see you. I was feeling plenty low. The divers hadn't been able to find any trace of the murder weapon. We stopped first at your motel. You weren't there, so we went over to the lot. We were just in time to see Lorette rush out of the trailer. She was laughing like crazy, acting like a real weirdo, and she had a gun in her hand. We latched on to her in a hurry, then we went into the trailer and saw you."

"How come she knifed me when she had the gun?" I wondered aloud.

"Simple. The gun was empty. She was using it to bluff you till she could get her hands on a weapon she really could use."

I shuddered. "Man, what a doll! Why did she draw the curtains for Pierre?"

Johnson tugged at an earlobe. "It seems Pierre was in the habit of prowling the Midway during the wee hours. He would walk close to the trailers and the sleeping trucks, on the alert for anything he could turn into blackmail. He overheard the fight between Sheik and Lorette, and he approached her for money, threatening to tell the police what he knew. At first she didn't think he really would do it, but when she found out that he had sent you a note, she lost her head. She wanted it to look like an accident, but she panicked and pressed down too hard with the wire cutters."

"Sheik really played hell with the Swank family, didn't he?"

"He sure did. I feel sorry for Lorette's mother. Lorette wouldn't see her. That baby really is all mixed up. Oh, by the way, here's a note from Sam."

He handed me an envelope. As I tore it open, he went out the door with a wave of his hand.

The envelope contained my fee, including a nice bonus. I unfolded the note. It was short and to the point.

Steve:

Here's your money, and a bonus. I feel that you really earned it. You had a job to do, and you did it. I can't blame you that Lorette was guilty. Poor Sam, I thought. He lost his money and his baby.

The door opened wider and my secretary, Helen, came in. She had on one of those crazy creations that women call hats.

She looked like a real doll, especially when she rushed over to my bed, squealing, "Oh, Steve, are you all right?"

She opened her mouth again, and I could tell that a flood of questions was about to come pouring out, so I gently pressed a finger against those lush red lips.

"Don't let's waste time talking, kitten. You know mouths were made for kissing, too ... also tongues!"

A nurse stuck her head in the door, and I winked.

"Get lost, baby," I said. "Can't you see we're busy?"