married,” Barney said.
“That never stopped him from fooling around whenever he felt like fooling.”
“What happened here the night both men disappeared?”
“Mal came over in the evening, as usual, in his launch. Had some beer in the shack down there. That’s all we’re allowed to sell—beer. It’s a town ordinance. But then he’d always come up here and pretend to talk to Alex, but all the time he kept putting his hands on me. We both knew what the score was—Mal and me, y’know? But Alex was just too dumb and blind. He thought Mal just came to talk about the war and his plane.”
“Whose plane?” Barney asked.
“Mal’s, of course. It’s gone, now, though.”
“With Mal?”
“I guess so. Anyway, he was here talking to Alex last Tuesday night, looking at me all the time, and I guess he drank a little too much. He got careless.” The blonde girl looked smug now. She pushed up her long hair, arched her body for Barney’s benefit, then slumped down again. “Alex suddenly caught on to what was happening. Alex is part Indian, like Charley Danger, over across the lake. Alex always had a terrible temper, but he never showed it like he did that night.” She paused, leaned forward, letting the towel slip. “Would you like another drink?”
“Later, Ferne. Go on, please.”
“You’re cute, you know that?” She laughed. “You think you’re kidding me? You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
“Go on,” he said.
“Have you got a girl, Barney?”
“No.”
“Would you like me to be your girl?”
“Later,” Barney said. “We’ll take it up later.”
“You bastard. You think you’re so smart.”
“You’re Mal Hunter’s girl,” Barney said. “That’s good enough for me. What happened when your husband caught on to Mal’s interest in you?”
“They had a fight. Alex tried to kill Mal. They went fighting all over the place, smashing up the furniture, rolling down the steps, out there on the rocks.” Ferne Kane’s eyes shone with relish, remembering the scene. “They were like a couple of wild animals, y’know? I never saw anything like it.” She shivered with pleasure. “They almost killed each other, because of me. Anyway, Mal almost killed Alex. He beat him up something awful.”
“Didn’t you try to stop it?” Barney asked.
“Why should I?”
“It’s a nice question. Was anybody else here who saw them fighting?”
“No. It was late by then. There were no customers down in the shack.” She leaned forward again. Her eyes glistened with sudden greed. “Come on, Barney. Don’t keep me in suspense. What is Mal offering?”
“What would you like?” Barney asked.
“Well, after all, I saw it. He could get the chair, if I signed a statement, if I testified. He owes me plenty.”
“Tell me the rest of it, first.”
“There is no more,” she said, sulky now. “Mal left in his launch and I went down and found Alex all bloody, beaten to a pulp. I helped him in here and put him to bed. The next morning he was gone.”
“Where did he go?”
“He said he got a call for a guided party up at Moon Cove. That’s where he said he was going. But he never came back. You can guess who really called him up there. It was Mal. And Mal killed him up there.”
Barney let air out of his lungs softly. “That’s not evidence, Ferne. That doesn’t prove anything. Did you see Mal after that night, though?”
“No.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“Sure,” she grinned. “You showed up, didn’t you?”
“I have no authority to offer you anything,” Barney said.
“Then why are you here?”
He was silent. She looked at him, her gray-green eyes challenging, then puzzled. Fear dawned in them slowly. She touched her upper lip with the tip of her pink tongue. She looked at the bottle, then jerked her glance away, deciding she’d had enough. Something ugly crawled over her face.
“No money?” she whispered.
“You don’t have anything on Malcolm Hunter that would stand up for a second in court,” Barney said.
“Oh, you rotten—”
He stood up. “I’ll be back soon,” he said. “When I’ve found Mal Hunter and your husband.”
“Don’t come back!” she screamed. “You do and I’ll kill you! Tell Mal when you see him that I’m going to talk my head off! Tell him that! And tell him I won’t take less than double what I asked for before! He can come crawling to me on his hands and knees, he can come begging, and I won’t listen! You dirty—”
Leaving the house by the kitchen door, he started toward his parked car. The two men from the green sedan were standing there in the sunlight, waiting for him.
4
THE FAT one mopped his face and coughed apologetically. The nervous one flipped away a cigarette into the grass, where it lifted a thin plume of blue smoke. The squirrels scolded noisily, the brook babbled, the lake made little lapping sounds on the pebbly shore. A peaceful world. Barney walked toward the two men.
“Forbes?” said the fat man.
“You ought to know by now,” Barney said. The fat man wore a yellow nylon sport shirt with an open collar over a gray gabardine suit. His suede shoes had thick rope soles. He had a shiny saddle nose and small, knowledgeable eyes and a purse of a mouth. “Why the tail job?” Barney asked.
“We do what we’re told. Now we’re calling time on you,” said the young, thin one.
“So?”
“We’ll take you to the railroad station,” said the fat man. “Henry, you take it easy. This man is reasonable. He knew we were tailing, but he didn’t mind. It shows a willingness to cooperate. It shows were not goin’ to have any trouble with him at all.”
“That’s what you think,” Barney said. Both men were armed. Their guns were poorly concealed under their sport coats. They were two-bit hoodlums, picked up in some Broadway backwash, and they were floundering in this mountain environment like fish out of water. “Who hired you?”
“Let’s say we both work for the same party.”
“Hunter?”
