Michael Gray Novels Page 11

  Gray said, “You mentioned that your boss runs a syndicate. Who’s your boss?”

  “Nobody you know. Anyway, we’re talking about you. You’re a head-shrinker, not a cop. Keep remembering that, and there won’t be any trouble.”

  Gray said, “Lay it on the line, Oliver. Exactly what do you want?”

  “You had a patient, a guy named Dunne. He’s dead. So new mark it closed. Just leave everything to the cops from now on. Is that straight enough for you?”

  “I don’t know,” Gray said. “You’re right about one thing. I’m not a detective. But part of my job is to investigate.”

  Oliver’s teeth showed.

  “Howard Dunne’s dead. Your job’s all done. From now on, you’re walking on the grass.”

  Gray said, “This syndicate you work for—they’re afraid I’ll dig up something that’ll make trouble for them. Right?”

  The bull shoulders shrugged.

  Gray went on, “You said the public doesn’t get excited about prostitution unless somebody gets hurt. Most people feel the same way about gambling—pretty casual. As long as nobody important gets hurt. That means La Noche. A lot of money passes in the casino upstairs there every night. I guess if the police cracked down, your syndicate would feel it.”

  “Sure,” Oliver said. “In the pocketbook. But don’t get the idea La Noche’s the only place we own. We’re in business all over town, one way or another. A crackdown could cost us a hell of a lot of dough.”

  “Are you trying to protect Carol Webster?” Gray asked suddenly.

  There was a pause. Then Oliver’s flat laugh came.

  “Maybe we don’t have anything to worry about,” he said. “If you’re trying to pin a murder rap on Carol—” He laughed again. “Sure, she’s the one we’re worried about. Go ahead and frame her, if you feel like it.”

  “How do you know she didn’t kill anybody?”

  “You ask too many questions,” Oliver said with sudden coldness. “Just mind your own business from here on in. If you don’t, I’ll know about it.”

  “Howard Dunne was a patient of mine,” Gray said. “His wife’s in jail now. I’m due to see her today, and I’m going to.”

  Oliver said, “You suit yourself. All I’m saying is—keep off the grass. You do that, and everybody’ll be happy.” He got up and stood staring at Gray. Again, the over-developed shoulders gave him a faint air of deformity.

  Gray said nothing.

  Oliver’s lower teeth gleamed.

  “When you’re dead, it’s for keeps,” he said.

  Then he went out.

  22

  “What do you want, police protection?” Captain Zucker asked.

  It was early evening. Zucker was drawing a paper cup full of water from the big bottle against his office wall. He emptied it in two gulps, tossed the cup in a basket, and glanced out of the window. Gray moved uneasily in his chair.

  Zucker made an inquiring noise.

  “Nothing,” Gray said. “Just a thought … No, I can’t have a cop following me around. Not in my business.”

  “What about nights?”

  “Well, I’ve a license and a thirty-eight.”

  “Too light. You can’t always stop a man with that.”

  Gray said shortly, “I’m not sure what I ought to do. You say you’ve got nothing on Bruce Oliver?”

  Zucker said, “Nothing on him, or the people behind him. They’re not the ones who take the rap when anything goes wrong. Of course, I’m still checking, but I don’t think Oliver would have talked so much if he hadn’t felt pretty safe.”

  “Nobody’s passed the word to take it easy?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Zucker said.

  “Don’t kid me, Harry.”

  “All right. You can’t always go by the book. But there hasn’t been any kickback this time. What does that mean?”

  Gray said, “It might mean I’m on the track of something dangerous to Oliver, and your boys aren’t.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  “I wish I knew,” Gray said. “What about Carol Webster?”

  “Came here from Chicago ten years ago. No trace of her before then. We’ve checked into the background of everybody who might have been hooked up with this. I’ve got the stuff here.” He jerked his thumb toward a filing cabinet.

  “I’d like to see it.”

  Zucker hesitated.

  “Why not?” he said at last. “Anything you find out, we want to know.”

  He unlocked the cabinet and gave Gray a manila folder. The psychoanalyst sat down at a desk and skimmed rapidly through the material. Finally he closed the folder.

  “It’s all there,” Zucker said, almost complacently.

  “Part of it,” Gray agreed.

  “What do you want, medical case histories?”

  “I’d like to know more about Eleanor Pope’s family. And Sam Pope’s father, and why—”

  Zucker said, “You don’t need all that. There’s only one real reason why people get themselves put behind bars. They want something for nothing.”

  Gray said, “That doesn’t tell us who killed the Popes and Howard Dunne.”

  Zucker shrugged.

  “Have it your way. Go on down and see Mrs. Dunne.”

  “I guess I will,” Gray said, and went to the door.

  “We still haven’t found where the cyanide came from,” Zucker said. “Still, that doesn’t mean much. It’s a hell of a lot easier to get hold of than most people think.”

  “I know,” Gray said, his hand on the doorknob.

  “Mike.”

  “Still here.”

  “Don’t take too many chances. Oliver wasn’t kidding.”

  23

  “But I’ve told the police all this already,” Mary Dunne said distantly.

  “Not what I want to know.” Gray looked at her closely. Her remoteness was alarming.

  “If Sam had let me alone—” she said.

  “I understand,” the analyst said. “Please go on.”

  “Talking to you helped, Mr. Gray. I didn’t feel so much that it was my fault. And then—I couldn’t really blame Arnold, either. Sam kept trying to make me promise not to see Arnold again.” She slowed and stopped.

  “What happened then?”

  “Sam and I had dinner, the night before he died. Then we went up to his apartment. Sam said he had more to talk about. He said he needed me.” She frowned a little. “After dinner, he noticed he was almost out of medicine. So he asked me to refill it from the bottle in the bathroom. That was how my fingerprints got there. Then when Sam began talking about Howard … I’d never realized that he really hated Howard. We had a fight then. I walked out. After what happened that morning….”

  Gray said, “What did happen?”

  “Why, Sam called me about Arnold. He threatened to cut me out of his will if I married Arnold. I hung up. And then, around five, Sam phoned again and apologized. He asked me to have dinner with him. I—still can’t believe he meant all the things he said about Howard. He was hurt; he wanted to protect me. And I always hated to see Sam hurt. That was why—”

  “Go ahead. You’d better tell me, hadn’t you?”

  “Eleanor,” Mary Dunne said, in the distant, faded voice. “I tried to get close to her, but she didn’t like me. When I realized Eleanor was having affairs with other men, I … I guess I hated her, because she was hurting Sam. I hoped he’d never find out. And there was Howard, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She said listlessly, “I knew Howard was having an affair with Eleanor. I knew Howard was promiscuous. And I … it meant I was a failure.”

  “You weren’t a failure,” Gray said. “It was Howard’s sickness. He needed a certain kind of reassurance that no woman could give him. That’s why he did have affairs. He had to.”

  “But … other women satisfied him. And I never did.”

  “No,” Gray said. “Do you remember how Howard seemed to feel after intercourse?
”

  Mary considered.

  “Angry. And, somehow, disappointed.”

  Gray nodded.

  “It was like that every time with Howard,” Gray said. “No matter who the woman was.”

  “But why? If I’d known, I might have helped him.”

  Gray said slowly, “If Howard had lived, and if he had finished analysis, I think he would have got well.” He paused, watching Mary.

  Gray said, “We mustn’t forget about you. You’ve got the chance of a more satisfactory life ahead of you now. But only if we get you out of jail.”

  “I’ve told the police everything I know.”

  “You told them what happened. I want to know how the people involved felt about what happened.”

  “But how can I tell that?”

  “Try it and see,” Gray suggested. “For example, how did Sam feel about Howard. Did he really hate him?”

  “I don’t know. I never thought so until—that night. And even then, I couldn’t really believe it”

  “Why did you marry Howard?” Gray asked.

  “Because I loved him. Isn’t that a good reason?”

  Gray smiled.

  “Very good. But why hadn’t you married before?”

  “Why, I don’t know. I’d never met anybody I liked enough.”

  “What changed?”

  “Well, I guess I was feeling lonely. And Howard seemed so lost. I wanted to help him.”

  Gray said, “Did you have a lonely childhood, do you remember?”

  Mary shook her head slowly.

  “I don’t think so. My mother died when I was three. Sam always took care of me. Father was a teacher. Professor of Mathematics at Berkeley. He was rather famous. And he was supposed to be rough on his students.”

  “Was he rough on you?”

  “I don’t think he expected much of me. Father thought women weren’t capable of abstract thinking. But he was rough on Sam.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “He thought Sam was stupid. That wasn’t true. Sam … well, Father died when Sam was eighteen, and he supported me until I was old enough to work.”

  Gray said thoughtfully, “Sam enlisted during the war and married Eleanor. Afterwards, he came back here with his wife. How had Sam changed?”

  “It wasn’t a change, really. He always had worked hard. But after the war, he never relaxed. The business—that was all he cared about.”

  “He didn’t care about you?”

  “I don’t mean that,” Mary said. “I was thinking how he used to take us out to dinner—Howard and me—and how it always fell flat when Eleanor was along.”

  “I see. Why?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s strange. When we were first married, Howard and I were very close. I’ve never realized it before, but I think Sam resented that. It was when he first started worrying about Howard’s health.”

  “You and Howard were turning away from Sam, in a way?”

  “Not really. But Sam wanted—too much!”

  “What did he want?” Gray asked softly.

  Mary said impatiently, “Why couldn’t he have let us alone? I—I want to be myself. I never have been. After I married Howard, I had to fit myself to him. That’s what I liked about Arnold. I felt he’d let me be myself.”

  Gray waited.

  “Sam wanted me to marry Howard. But after I did—he—he was jealous. And Howard … I can’t talk any more. I can’t.”

  “You don’t have to,” Gray said reassuringly. “There isn’t much more to say, anyway. Let’s see if I have it straight Your father was an important figure. He felt that Sam was stupid. And Sam tried to be more important than your father. For example, your father didn’t have much money, did he? Well Sam felt he had to make a great deal. He had to excel your father in every way he could, including acting like a father to you.”

  Mary shook her head doubtfully.

  Gray went on.

  “But he hadn’t any place to stop. So he had to become his own father. Everything that threatened that goal made him feel like the stupid boy his father had called him. He needed power—absolute paternal power. But he couldn’t admit that to himself, or why he needed it. He had to believe he was controlling others for their own good. As long as you and Howard were like his children, dependent and controllable, he felt safe. But when you turned to each other, or away from Sam, he felt threatened.”

  Mary’s lips were parted. She watched Gray with a curious, fascinated intentness.

  He said, “The danger, to Sam, was that you might marry Arnold Farragut. Sam couldn’t control Farragut at all. But Sam thought he could control Howard. If he could make Howard believe he was mentally ill, then Howard would realize how much he needed Sam. And you’d stay with Howard—and Sam needed you, too.”

  Mary said, “You make Sam sound—horrible!”

  “No. He didn’t know all this. If he had, he’d have behaved very differently. But he didn’t realize he didn’t really want Howard to get well.”

  “He insisted Howard get treatment.”

  “Yes. He sensed that Howard’s particular conflicts made him terrified of confinement in a sanitarium. Sam tried to control Howard by putting that kind of pressure on him. You see, Sam had to keep Howard dependent on him, and successful psychoanalysis would have made that impossible. That’s why Sam tried to move in with you and Howard. Superficially, he was afraid Howard might become violent. Actually, he felt Howard’s growing independence, and he had to stop that.”

  Mary said unsteadily, “It’s horrible. Sam was my brother.”

  Gray said, “I know. I may be wrong, but if the truth wasn’t exactly as I’ve suggested, it was very close to it. You’re blaming yourself for what happened. So it’s important for you to know what really happened, and why.”

  “But … if it’s true, what about my own unconscious motives? I—I hated Howard sometimes.”

  “You can’t hold anyone responsible for his unconscious thoughts and feelings,” Gray said. “Even the law recognizes that. Sam didn’t know his real motives, remember.”

  “Does anybody?” Mary asked, in a whisper.

  “God knows,” Gray said somberly. “All anybody can do is his best. You did your best, Mary.”

  “Perhaps,” she said, looking around her. “And you see where I am.”

  Gray said, “You won’t be here long. If I have to blow up the damned jail, I’ll get you out.”

  24

  It was two days later when Gray walked into Captain Zucker’s office.

  “Shut the door, Mike,” Zucker said.

  “Okay. It’s shut. Now what?”

  “Now sit down. I want to talk to you.”

  “Something new?”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve been asking around—very quietly,” Gray said. “So far I’ve not been mugged. Maybe Bruce Oliver was only bluffing.”

  Zucker said, “Have you found out anything important?”

  “I still haven’t any evidence. Howard Dunne was the only man who had the key to this—” Gray paused.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Dunne’s dreams had something—to do with this—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Zucker said. “You try marking a dream Exhibit A and see what happens.”

  “I do it all the time.”

  “Not in a courtroom. I want you to lay off.”

  Gray looked at him.

  “Who said so?”

  “I say so. No, nobody’s passed the word to ease up. This is just the opposite. We’re working on something hot, and you just might scare somebody off.”

  Gray sat down on a desk and lit a cigarette.

  “All I’m doing is asking questions,” he observed.

  “Well stop it,” Zucker said. There was a pause.

  Then Zucker said irritably, “Oh, hell. Why can’t you take my word for it?”

  Gray lifted his eyebrows.

  Zucker said, “This is confidential, then. We’ve got enough
evidence to arrest Farragut But we’re not ready.”

  “Arnold Farragut eh?” Gray said. “Now what about Mary Dunne?”

  “This clears her.”

  “Then you’ve released her?”

  Zucker said, “I told you we’re trying for something. It means not rocking the boat while we do some more checking. She’s still being held. And Farragut’s still walking around. That won’t last long. I think Mrs. Dunne will be released in a couple of days.”

  “God damn it” Gray said. “You know what I think of that?”

  Zucker said, “Mike, you can’t always go by the book. I’m telling you this, but it’s confidential; you’ll see why in a couple of days.”

  “Why not arrest Farragut then? You say you’ve got evidence enough.”

  “Yeah. His name’s on the poison book in a San Jose drugstore. Cyanide. The druggist identified his photo. And we found a picklock in Farragut’s apartment hidden away. So he could have got into Pope’s apartment and poisoned that medicine bottle.”

  “What about Dunne’s death?”

  “No direct evidence on that. But—you remember where Eleanor Pope was killed? Well, we’ve a witness who saw Farragut follow Mrs. Pope outside La Noche that night.”

  “Who’s the witness.”

  Zucker shook his head.

  “That stays confidential. But listen to this. Farragut’s pretty broke. He wants to marry Mrs. Dunne. Pope had a lot of dough, plus his restaurant business. Suppose he figured on killing the people in his way, marrying Mrs. Dunne, and getting Pope’s money too?”

  “Knocking off Eleanor Pope, Howard Dunne, and Sam Pope, in that order. It’s too thin.”

  “It wouldn’t be in court. And I’m giving you the bare bones. There’s more.”

  Gray said, “You’re trying to pull a fast one, Harry. Why not tell me what you’re really up to?”

  Zucker said stubbornly, “I told you there was evidence enough to arrest Farragut, and I think enough to convict him. Now I want you to stay entirely out of this business, or you’ll interfere with our plans. I’ve told you this much so you’d know Mrs. Dunne will be released in a few days.”