Dress Her in Indigo by John D. MacDonald Page A
Authors: John D. MacDonald
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Mystery & Detective, Private Investigators, Political, Hard-Boiled, Fort Lauderdale (Fla.), McGee; Travis (Fictitious character)
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insurance investigation. Could we come in."
"Now really! Are you men trying to be terribly tricky or something? The whole matter has been settled. And I must say that it was terribly unfair. I should have gotten full value for my marvelous little car, but they kept talking about my not putting that fellow, George, on the list of people authorized to drive it. Actually I shall never loan anyone a car, ever again, no matter how nicely they ask."
"Insurance," I said, "on the life of the deceased, Miss Beatrice Bowie of Miami, Florida. There is an accidental death clause in the policy."
Page 25
"And you came here from Florida!"
"A large sum of money is involved, Mr. Bundy."
"And I'm sure it's all terribly important to you and your company and the beneficiary and all that, and I suppose you are here to practically lunge at any hint that the pretty child killed herself so that you can save great wads of money, which I suppose is what you are paid to do, but I am expecting guests, and I was just about to make my famous salad dressing. So why don't you plan to come back tomorrow, Mr. McGoo? But I won't be able to tell you a thing, actually. I did meet those girls, but I knew them so slightly I had the names mixed up. I thought it was the little dark one they called Bix, and I was surprised to find it was the tall, quiet blond one."
"It will only take a couple of minutes."
"Sorry. Tomorrow would be far more convenient. Come at about... eleven-thirty in the morning, please."
He turned away and had gone two steps before I tried my hunch. "From talking to Rocko, I thought you'd be more cooperative, Bruce."
He stopped in his tracks and turned very slowly. "To whom?"
"Walter Rockland."
He moved closer to the gate and looked up at me, his head tilted, his lips sucked flat. He wore a coarse cotton hand-woven shirt, off-white, with full sleeves and silver buttons on the tight cuffs.
He wore a yellow silk ascot, and snug lime-green slacks, and strap sandals the color of oiled walnut. He had brown-gray bangs, a slender tanned face, eyes of pale amber brown.
"Now where would you have encountered that creature?"
"If we could come in for a few moments."
"What did he say about me?"
"I promise we won't take too much of your time."
He unlocked the gate. I followed Meyer in. Bundy locked the gate and told us to go straight ahead to the garden and he would be along in a few moments. He said he wanted to make the dressing and get the woman started on the main course. He told us to help ourselves to a drink.
There was a high wall around the small courtyard, a fountain in one corner. The courtyard was paved in a green stone, and the flowers and shrubs were in huge earthen pots. The furniture was of dark heavy wood upholstered in bright canvas. There were bright birds in bamboo cages.
I poured some of his Bengal gin onto ice. As Meyer fixed himself a whiskey soda he said, "From whence came that inspiration, Mr. McGoo?"
"I'd rather not try to find out. I might not get any more inspirations if I knew."
Page 26
I dug through the back of my wallet and found one of my Central General Insurance cards and showed it to Meyer so he would at least know who we were working for.
Bundy came into the courtyard carrying a glass of wine. He sat on a low stone bench and looked at me. It was a look familiar to any veteran poker player, when someone is debating whether or not you have the gall to check and raise.
"I think you'd better tell me, Mr. McGoo-"
"McGee."
"Oh. Terribly sorry. McGee, then. Tell me when and where you saw Charles Rockland."
"Walter Rockland."
"Terribly sorry. Charles didn't sound quite right, did it? Rocko suits him better than either, of course."
"We just saw him in Mexico City the day before yesterday Mr. Bundy."
"Really?"
"Just routine. After all, he did own the Chevy truck and camper that entered Mexico last January tenth, and Miss Bowie was one of the group. Miss Bowie, Miss Minda McLeen, Carl Sessions, and Jerome
"Now really! Are you men trying to be terribly tricky or something? The whole matter has been settled. And I must say that it was terribly unfair. I should have gotten full value for my marvelous little car, but they kept talking about my not putting that fellow, George, on the list of people authorized to drive it. Actually I shall never loan anyone a car, ever again, no matter how nicely they ask."
"Insurance," I said, "on the life of the deceased, Miss Beatrice Bowie of Miami, Florida. There is an accidental death clause in the policy."
Page 25
"And you came here from Florida!"
"A large sum of money is involved, Mr. Bundy."
"And I'm sure it's all terribly important to you and your company and the beneficiary and all that, and I suppose you are here to practically lunge at any hint that the pretty child killed herself so that you can save great wads of money, which I suppose is what you are paid to do, but I am expecting guests, and I was just about to make my famous salad dressing. So why don't you plan to come back tomorrow, Mr. McGoo? But I won't be able to tell you a thing, actually. I did meet those girls, but I knew them so slightly I had the names mixed up. I thought it was the little dark one they called Bix, and I was surprised to find it was the tall, quiet blond one."
"It will only take a couple of minutes."
"Sorry. Tomorrow would be far more convenient. Come at about... eleven-thirty in the morning, please."
He turned away and had gone two steps before I tried my hunch. "From talking to Rocko, I thought you'd be more cooperative, Bruce."
He stopped in his tracks and turned very slowly. "To whom?"
"Walter Rockland."
He moved closer to the gate and looked up at me, his head tilted, his lips sucked flat. He wore a coarse cotton hand-woven shirt, off-white, with full sleeves and silver buttons on the tight cuffs.
He wore a yellow silk ascot, and snug lime-green slacks, and strap sandals the color of oiled walnut. He had brown-gray bangs, a slender tanned face, eyes of pale amber brown.
"Now where would you have encountered that creature?"
"If we could come in for a few moments."
"What did he say about me?"
"I promise we won't take too much of your time."
He unlocked the gate. I followed Meyer in. Bundy locked the gate and told us to go straight ahead to the garden and he would be along in a few moments. He said he wanted to make the dressing and get the woman started on the main course. He told us to help ourselves to a drink.
There was a high wall around the small courtyard, a fountain in one corner. The courtyard was paved in a green stone, and the flowers and shrubs were in huge earthen pots. The furniture was of dark heavy wood upholstered in bright canvas. There were bright birds in bamboo cages.
I poured some of his Bengal gin onto ice. As Meyer fixed himself a whiskey soda he said, "From whence came that inspiration, Mr. McGoo?"
"I'd rather not try to find out. I might not get any more inspirations if I knew."
Page 26
I dug through the back of my wallet and found one of my Central General Insurance cards and showed it to Meyer so he would at least know who we were working for.
Bundy came into the courtyard carrying a glass of wine. He sat on a low stone bench and looked at me. It was a look familiar to any veteran poker player, when someone is debating whether or not you have the gall to check and raise.
"I think you'd better tell me, Mr. McGoo-"
"McGee."
"Oh. Terribly sorry. McGee, then. Tell me when and where you saw Charles Rockland."
"Walter Rockland."
"Terribly sorry. Charles didn't sound quite right, did it? Rocko suits him better than either, of course."
"We just saw him in Mexico City the day before yesterday Mr. Bundy."
"Really?"
"Just routine. After all, he did own the Chevy truck and camper that entered Mexico last January tenth, and Miss Bowie was one of the group. Miss Bowie, Miss Minda McLeen, Carl Sessions, and Jerome
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