Talk of The Town (20 page)

“It’s all right,” I said. I told him what had happened. He went inside.

More cars arrived, and the place was full of Deputies, most of whom I’d never seen before. They left the headlights on to illuminate the yard. Magruder and Mitchell came over, glanced at me, and went inside to talk to Redfield.

“I tried to catch her,” Georgia said. “I followed her outside after she ran into me, but she got away.”

“She had a gun,” I said.

“I know. But it seemed to me she was our only chance.”

“She would have been,” I said, “except she left her purse. Incidentally, remind me to thank you sometime for putting out those lights.”

The screen door opened and Redfield came out, followed by Mitchell. “You’re in charge,” Redfield said. “Take over. Search the place, inventory that stuff, and when you’ve got ‘em all, bring ‘em in and book ‘em. I’ll be at home.”

Mitchell nodded to me. “What about Chatham?”

“There’s no charge,” Redfield said curtly. “He can go any time he wants.”

I stood up, took the gun from the pocket of my jacket, and held it out to him butt-first. He accepted it without a word and dropped it in his jacket. Turning abruptly away, he walked across the yard, got into the cruiser, and drove away, picking up speed as he shot out towards the road.

I sat down. Georgia watched the red lights turn into the road and disappear. “Couldn’t one of you have said something?”

“Said what?” I asked.

“Yes, I see what you mean.”

Calhoun came out. He lit a cigarette, and we watched the flashlights searching out through the timber. “She still had the gun, didn’t she?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You haven’t heard a shot?”

“No,” I said. “And if she hasn’t by now, she probably won’t.”

“More than likely she’s just sitting up there in the car.”

I thought about it. It made me shiver.

“They’ve got Frankie and Pearl spilling pretty well,” he said. “They had Strader’s car with them that night, besides the truck, so they split up on the way back. They brought the safes on out here, and butchered ‘em open the next day. They claim they didn’t go to Redfield’s house at all. Sounds logical.”

“But she and Strader had some of the stuff?” I asked. “Things that weren’t in the safe?”

“That’s right,” he replied. “You had it pegged all the time. She told them that was the way it happened. He came around the house and started to walk into the kitchen. Strader was outside, getting some more of the stuff. All he saw was a silhouette, and thought it was Redfield. There were some watches and silver and things like that right in plain sight on the table. And a dead truck driver lying in the weeds behind a highway lunch-stand up in Georgia.”

Georgia Langston rose and walked a few steps away, looking off into the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” Calhoun said.

“It’s all right,” she replied. “Bill said it would be that way.”

He stood up. “Well, I’ve got no business out here. And I guess you’ve had all of it you want, now that it’s cleared up. I’ll give you a lift to your car.”

“We won’t be able to find it till daylight,” I said. “It’s way off the road in the timber.”

“Then let me drive you home. You can get it tomorrow.”

I looked at her.

She smiled. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

It was nearly five. We were sitting in the living-room drinking coffee. I’d gone over to my room and showered and shaved my battered face as well as I could, and put on some clean clothes. She was wearing dark pajamas and a dressing gown and looked very lovely, but tired. The phone rang. I went out and answered it.

It was Calhoun. They got her,” he said. “About an hour ago. She made a full confession.”

“She admit having any idea why Langston came over there?”

“She says no. But I doubt that part of it.”

“So do I,” I said. “Thanks a lot.”

I went back and told her.

“I’m sorry, Georgia,” I said. “But there wasn’t any other way it would fit, from the first. He went there
hoping
something might happen. You see, he could just knock on the door and ask for Redfield, and play the ball as it bounced. But look at it this way—obviously, she’d made a play for him before. He was forty-seven, and they had just told him to get in his wheel-chair and watch the game from the sidelines the rest of his life, so maybe it was a gesture.”

She interrupted me. “Bill.”

“What?”

“Why all the apology and explanation? Doesn’t it occur to you I might want to try to thank you for what you’ve done? It was a nightmare, and you ended it for me.”

I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She nodded. “It hurts, yes. But I don’t expect to go around the rest of my life posing as a tragic figure. Listen, why don’t we go outside? It should be just about dawn now, and we can see exactly where we want to put that swimming pool.”

We went out and sat on the edge of the concrete porch. Day was beginning. I tossed a pebble. “Center of the swimming pool right there. How does it look?”

“It’s a beautiful pool,” she said dreamily. Then she asked, “You mean it? You really want to stay and do it?”

“What do you think?” I said. I grinned, or tried to. “Let’s say I’ve given too much of my face to this cause to drop it now.”

She touched a few bruises with her fingertips. I was hoping you would. But do you know why I asked? This is the day they were supposed to have your car ready.”

I turned, and we stared at each other for an instant. It was impossible, but she was right.

She gave a little smothered laugh, and went on in a faint voice. “It’s inevitable. Bill. Some day somebody’s going to ask you what on earth you did to pass the time, stuck in a little place like this for three whole days.”