Off Season (25 page)

Later, back in Edgartown, I met the chief on South Water Street. I had just come over from Collins Beach, after rowing in from having a look at the
Mattie
and the
Shirley J.
There was an inch of new snow on the ground, the sky was pale blue and it was cold, but
so far there was no ice on the harbor. A few bold, freezing scallopers were still out dragging in Cape Pogue Pond and Katama Bay, and I was glad that I wasn't going to be one of them for a few more days. I was headed for the Wharf pub for a little something to warm my innards.

The chief was hunched against the sunny side of the bank, out of the wind that was blowing down Main Street, getting his pipe stoked up. There weren't any perpetrators in sight, so he had only Christmas shoppers to worry about. No problem.

“Well,” he said, “how's private eyeing? Solved the crime yet?”

“Naturally,” I said. “The butler did it. I knew it all the time.”

“You'd better tell Dom Agganis. He still thinks it was somebody else.”

“You tell him,” I said. “He probably wouldn't believe me. I'm a mere civilian.”

“And I'm a mere small-town cop who can't be trusted to understand anything as complicated as a murder investigation. You haven't come around asking me questions for a while. Why not?”

“it's Christmas. My mind is on peace and good will and cats, not crime.”

The chief puffed his pipe. “Maybe you'd better get it back on crime. I called you earlier this morning, but nobody was home.”

“I was having breakfast with my bride-to-be up in West Tisbury. What was the message?”

“Got a call from Vineyard Haven. Somebody thinks they saw Joey Percell come off the early boat. I phoned Nash Cortez and gave him the news. Now I'm giving it to you. People are on the lookout for him, but so far nobody's confirmed that he's really on the island. Still, I'd keep my eyes open, if I were you.
Joey's got a thin skin but a long memory, they say, and if he's down here, it's for no good reason.”

“If he gets too mean, we can make him go scalloping for a week in January. That should take some of the steam out of him.”

“You just watch yourself. We don't have anything on him, so we couldn't pull him in even if we found him.”

I looked at the Christmas shoppers on Main Street leaning against the wind that was trying to blow them down into the parking lot in front of the yacht club. They clutched their cheery wool hats with mittened hands while they gazed into windows bright with red and green decorations. They seemed happy and impervious to the cold. There were no Joey Percells in their thoughts.

“If my snitches are right,” I said, “Joey's boss is interested in Vince Manwaring's campaign. Something about having pull with some unions Vince would like to have on his side come next November. Vince gets the union votes, Joey's boss gets some pull with Vince. Maybe Joey's down here on that business. Maybe he's going to see Vince. Vince is coming down this weekend, I'm told.”

“You're told a lot more than I am. What bird has been singing to you?”

“Phyllis Manwaring has been staying with Mimi Bettencourt. She's the one that says Vince will be down. And you're the one who said Joey's boss was interested in Vince.”

“I never said anything about any unions.”

“Maybe I just made that up. Anyway, maybe Joey's down here on business.”

“I don't think he's here to celebrate the holidays. Question is, whose business is he on? His boss's or his own?” A cruiser came slowly down the street. It
stopped, and the chief got in the passenger side. He pointed his pipe at me. “You take care, now.” The cruiser took a left and went up North Water Street. Maybe a Christmas crime wave had broken out on Starbuck Neck.

I went down to the Wharf pub and had a bottle of Beck's dark while I did some thinking. It tasted so good, that I had another one. I also had a sandwich. Man does not live on beer alone.

I drove to Nash Cortez's house. He met me at the door. I noticed that his shotgun was leaning against the wall. He followed my glance.

“Got her loaded with rock salt. Won't kill anybody, but it'll sure put the hurt on ‘em. Salt in the wounds, you know.”

“The zero hour is approaching,” I said, as Velcro and Oliver Underfoot came galloping noisily out of the kitchen to see what was going on. “Tomorrow night Mimi gets the kittens that are up at my house, and the next morning Zee gets these two little characters.”

Nash looked worried. “Hey, J.W., you sure you won't go out to Mimi's before I show up, and sort of, you know, let her know what's happening? I mean, blast it all, what if she . . .?”

“All right, all right,” I said. “I'll go out there ahead of you, and I'll be there when you get there.”

He beamed and seemed to grow taller. “Gosh, that's damn fine news, J.W., damn fine!”

Oliver Underfoot was wrapped around my ankle, purring. He seemed to have grown a couple of inches since last I'd seen him. Velcro, too, seemed bigger. She made a jump and attached herself to Nash's pant leg.

“Here, you little rascal, quit that!” Nash peeled Velcro off his leg and held her in his big, red hands. “Gonna miss these little fellers.”

“You play your cards right, and Mimi will let you hang around and play with her two.”

Nash petted Velcro and I sure hoped I was right.

“Trust me,” I said, Pondering if I was.

Out in the street I heard a car slow and stop.

“No nibbling,” admonished Nash, as Velcro took a tentative nip of his thumb. Velcro nibbled some more. They were gentle little nibbles. Nash said, “No nibbling,” again, but he didn't pull his thumb away.

I moved over and looked out the window. A dark car was parked behind my Land Cruiser. I couldn't see its license plate. I heard footsteps on the porch, then there was a knock on the door.

Nash and I looked at each other. Nash put down the cat and walked over to his shotgun. I wished that he had one of those doors that has a window in it so you can see who's standing outside, but such was not the case. I opened the door.

A man I didn't know was standing there, his hands in the pockets of a long, dark winter coat. His face was a very ordinary one. It did not belong to Joey Percell, but maybe Joey had a friend. His hand lifted swiftly out of his pocket. It held a piece of paper.

“Excuse me,” he said, “I'm trying to find Pine Street, and this map hasn't helped me a bit. Can you point me in the right direction? it's my first time on the island, and I'm a lost soul.”

I looked over his shoulder at his car. Now I saw that the back seat was piled with brightly wrapped Christmas presents.

I told him how to find Pine Street.

He smiled. “Thanks. And merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

I watched him get into his car and drive off.

I shut the door and looked at Nash.

“I don't want to live like this,” he said. “Do you?”

“No,” I said, “but I don't think you have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don't think that Joey Percell has any reason to come after you. He already gave you his message.”

“Damned lot of good it did him!” huffed Nash. “Takes more than a punch on the jaw to shut me up if I feel like talking!”

“Yeah, but now that you've decided to be sweet to Mimi Bettencourt, you've shut up on your own account. You've done Joey's work for him.”

“Well, hell . . .” Nash's voice trailed off. “Hmmmmm . . . Damn, J.W., you may be right. Now if that doesn't beat all.”

“Let's talk about the kittens,” I said. So we did that, and worked out the details of the Christmas deliveries. Then, after assuring nervous Nash once again that I would prepare Mimi for his arrival, I went home and phoned her.

“Mimi, after I left that message from Shrink Williams, did Phyllis ever phone him?”

“Why yes, I believe she did.”

“Did she go see him?”

“If she did, she didn't tell me about it.”

“Did she go out?”

“Yes, she went out, but she said she was going to do some shopping. What's this all about, J.W.?”

“Is she his patient?”

“Not that I know of. You're awfully interested in Phyllis all of a sudden. What's going on?”

“Are they lovers?”

“Lovers!” Mimi cried, “What an idea . . .” But then her voice faded off. “My goodness,” she said, thoughtfully. “Phyllis and Cotton Williams. Well, well . . . Where did you come up with this one, J.W.?”

“Vince isn't around much, and according to Zee, Shrink has a new woman. I found Shrink up at the
Manwaring place looking for Phyllis. He'd heard about the murder in New York and had rushed to the island to offer her aid and comfort. I got the impression that he knew Vince was still on the mainland.”

“Ah. And when Phyllis heard he was back on the island, she made a phone call and went out shopping. You may have a case, J.W. Well, well, isn't this interesting? Do you want to tell me what this is all about? Have you joined the moralists or something?”

“I've always been a moral paragon, Meem. You know that. No, it's just that if I got this figured out, somebody else probably has, too.”

I rang off and looked up Shrink Williams's office number. His receptionist answered. Yes, Dr. Williams was in, but he was with a patient and couldn't be disturbed. I asked her when his business day ended, and she said that since it was Saturday and the night before Christmas Eve, he would be leaving at four. I told her it was important for me to talk to him and left my name and number.

I noted that Shrink's home and office addresses were the same. He lived and worked on West Chop, not far from where Hazel Fine and Mary Coffin lived. I wondered if they knew each other.

I got my old police .38 out of the drawer at the bottom of the gun case where I kept my shotguns and my father's deer rifle, loaded it and put it in my pocket. I didn't know if I'd have time to pull this off, because the Christmas concert started at seven-thirty, and I'd have to be back home before that to get myself spruced up so Zee would not have to hide her face in shame when the two of us went into the church.

I gave Shrink five minutes to phone me, and when he didn't, I drove to Oak Bluffs.

I went into the hospital emergency room. Zee was there, looking terrific in her white uniform. One of the great things about Zee was that she looked just as good dressed ©r undressed. It was a virtue shared by few other women I knew. Most of the rest of them looked better either one way or the other.

“Hi,” I said.

She had a little Christmas angel pinned on her dress. “Hi,” she said. “Are you an emergency?”

“No. I'm looking for Joey Percell. Is he here? If he is, it will save me a lot of time. Do you know him?”

“No. He's that guy that slugged Ignacio Cortez, isn't he? Why would I know him? And why would he be here?”

“Actually,” I said, truthfully, “I just came by to see if you're coming by my house before the concert, or if I'm going to pick you up.”

“You're going to pick me up, of course. About a quarter till seven. Why are you looking for Joey Percell?”

“He's on the island, they say. I think I know why.”

“Why?”

A man and a woman came in through the door. The man could barely walk. The woman wasn't helping him a whole lot, although she had an arm around his shoulder.

“Putting the star on the tree,” said the woman in a loud voice. “Fell off the ladder. Some Christmas. Well, isn't anybody gonna help us? Well?” She didn't seem to have too much holiday spirit.

“Excuse me,” said Zee, and went to meet the man and woman.

I went out and drove to Vineyard Haven. Dr. Cotton
Williams's office was attached to his house. I parked up the street and looked things over. It was cold, and I wished that the heater in the old Toyota worked better. I found the country and western station that I can get from Rhode Island, and listened to the C and W folks mix sentimental songs about the holidays with more traditional ones about people doing or being done wrong. Reba sang the good old one about her man having a lady up in Boston, then Kenny sang “Silent Night,” while I hummed along. I was sorry I hadn't asked the chief if Joey had arrived in a car or on foot.

A middle-aged man walked out of a back door behind Shrink's office, circled back to the street, got into a car parked not far from mine and drove away. I thought the back door was not a bad idea. A patient could leave the office and enjoy the illusion that nobody out front would know who had been in there with Shrink. I wondered if that was a normal office design for psychiatrists and psychologists. I guessed it probably was.

There were several cars parked on the street, but they seemed empty. I got out of the Land Cruiser and walked down to the end of the street and back. I had been right. No one was in any of the cars.

I opened the glove compartment and extracted, not gloves, for I have never seen a glove in anyone's glove compartment, but my emergency flask of cognac, which I keep there in case the St. Bernard never comes. I poured an ounce into the stainless steel cup that threaded onto the flask, and sipped it. Not bad.

Emmy Lou was singing a rock and roll song. I don't normally like rock and roll songs, but when Emmy Lou sings one I listen. Emmy Lou and I go back a long way.

The sun was very low when I saw Joey Percell come walking up the sidewalk. He was wearing a winter cap and a down jacket and Bean boots. I imagined that when he finished his work here, he planned to walk back downtown, get on the ferry and go home. I wondered where he'd spent his day after he'd located Shrink's office and home and learned, as I had, when Shrink got off work.

I looked at my watch. Four o'clock. A woman walked out of the back door of Shrink's office, circled to the street and walked past me up the street. Last customer of the day.