you.”
“Why?” she said.
“Why did Erskine hire me? He wanted to find out if your husband was involved in fixing baseball games.”
“O my God Jesus,” she said, and the kid looked up at her. She smiled. “Oh, isn’t that a nice family you’re drawing.
There’s the momma and the daddy and the baby.”
“Would it be better if I came back?” I said.
“There’s nothing to come back for,” Linda Rabb said. “I don’t know anything about it. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Mrs. Rabb, you know there is,” I said. “You’re panicky now and you don’t know what to say, so you just say no, and hope if you keep saying it, it’ll be true. But there’s a lot to talk about.”
“No.”
“Yeah, there is. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
“Erskine didn’t hire you to help us.”
“I’m not sure if he did or not. I can always give him his money back.”
“There’s nothing to help. We don’t need any help.”
“Yeah, you do.”
The kid tugged at his mother’s pants leg again and held up his drawing. “That’s lovely, Marty,” she said. “Is that a doggie?” The kid turned and held the picture so I could see it.
I said, “I like that very much. Do you want to tell me about it?”
The kid shook his head. “No,” I said, “I don’t blame you. I don’t like to talk about my work all that much either.”
“Marty,” Linda Rabb said, “draw a house for the doggie.” The boy bent back to the task. I noticed that he stuck his tongue out as he worked.
“Even if we did need help, what could you do?” Linda Rabb said.
“Depends on what exactly is going on. But this is my kind of work. I’m pretty sure to be better at it than you are.”
My coffee cup was empty, and Linda Rabb got up and refilled it. I took a corn muffin, my third. I hoped she didn’t notice.
“I’ve got to talk with Marty,” she said.
I bit off one side of my corn muffin. Probably should have broken it first. Susan Silverman was always telling me about taking small bites and such. Linda Rabb didn’t notice.
She was looking at her watch. “Little Marty goes to nursery school for a couple of hours in the afternoon.” She looked at the telephone and then at the kid and then at her watch again. Then she looked at me. “Why don’t you come back a little after one?”
“Okay.”
I got up and went to the door. Linda Rabb came with me. The kid came right behind her, close to her leg but no longer hanging on. As I left, I pointed my finger at him, from the hip, and brought my thumb down like the hammer of a pistol. He looked at me silently and made no response. On the other hand, he didn’t run and hide. Always had a way with kids. The Dr. Spock of the gumshoes.
Outside on Mass Ave, I looked at my watch: 11:35. An hour and a half to kill. I went around the corner to the Y on Huntington Ave where I am a member and got in a full workout on the Universal, including an extra set of bench presses and two extra sets of wrist rolls. By the time I got showered and dressed my pulse rate was back down under 100 and my breathing was almost under control. At 1:15 I was back at Linda Rabb’s door. She answered the first ring.
“Marty’s at school, Mr. Spenser. We can talk openly,” she said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE COFFEE AND MUFFINS were gone. Linda Rabb said, Has it been raining somewhere? Your hair’s wet.“
”Shower,“ I said. ”I went over to the Y and worked out.“
”Oh, how nice.“
”Sound mind in a healthy body and all that.“
”Could you show me some identification, Mr. Spenser?“
I got out the photostat of my license in its little plastic case and handed it to her. Also my driver’s license. She looked at them both and gave them back.
”I guess you really are a detective.“
”Thanks,“ I said, ”I need reassurance sometimes.“
”Just what do you know, Mr. Spenser?“
”I’ve been to Redford, Illinois, I’ve talked with Sheriff Donaldson and with your mother and
“Why?” she said.
“Why did Erskine hire me? He wanted to find out if your husband was involved in fixing baseball games.”
“O my God Jesus,” she said, and the kid looked up at her. She smiled. “Oh, isn’t that a nice family you’re drawing.
There’s the momma and the daddy and the baby.”
“Would it be better if I came back?” I said.
“There’s nothing to come back for,” Linda Rabb said. “I don’t know anything about it. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Mrs. Rabb, you know there is,” I said. “You’re panicky now and you don’t know what to say, so you just say no, and hope if you keep saying it, it’ll be true. But there’s a lot to talk about.”
“No.”
“Yeah, there is. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
“Erskine didn’t hire you to help us.”
“I’m not sure if he did or not. I can always give him his money back.”
“There’s nothing to help. We don’t need any help.”
“Yeah, you do.”
The kid tugged at his mother’s pants leg again and held up his drawing. “That’s lovely, Marty,” she said. “Is that a doggie?” The kid turned and held the picture so I could see it.
I said, “I like that very much. Do you want to tell me about it?”
The kid shook his head. “No,” I said, “I don’t blame you. I don’t like to talk about my work all that much either.”
“Marty,” Linda Rabb said, “draw a house for the doggie.” The boy bent back to the task. I noticed that he stuck his tongue out as he worked.
“Even if we did need help, what could you do?” Linda Rabb said.
“Depends on what exactly is going on. But this is my kind of work. I’m pretty sure to be better at it than you are.”
My coffee cup was empty, and Linda Rabb got up and refilled it. I took a corn muffin, my third. I hoped she didn’t notice.
“I’ve got to talk with Marty,” she said.
I bit off one side of my corn muffin. Probably should have broken it first. Susan Silverman was always telling me about taking small bites and such. Linda Rabb didn’t notice.
She was looking at her watch. “Little Marty goes to nursery school for a couple of hours in the afternoon.” She looked at the telephone and then at the kid and then at her watch again. Then she looked at me. “Why don’t you come back a little after one?”
“Okay.”
I got up and went to the door. Linda Rabb came with me. The kid came right behind her, close to her leg but no longer hanging on. As I left, I pointed my finger at him, from the hip, and brought my thumb down like the hammer of a pistol. He looked at me silently and made no response. On the other hand, he didn’t run and hide. Always had a way with kids. The Dr. Spock of the gumshoes.
Outside on Mass Ave, I looked at my watch: 11:35. An hour and a half to kill. I went around the corner to the Y on Huntington Ave where I am a member and got in a full workout on the Universal, including an extra set of bench presses and two extra sets of wrist rolls. By the time I got showered and dressed my pulse rate was back down under 100 and my breathing was almost under control. At 1:15 I was back at Linda Rabb’s door. She answered the first ring.
“Marty’s at school, Mr. Spenser. We can talk openly,” she said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE COFFEE AND MUFFINS were gone. Linda Rabb said, Has it been raining somewhere? Your hair’s wet.“
”Shower,“ I said. ”I went over to the Y and worked out.“
”Oh, how nice.“
”Sound mind in a healthy body and all that.“
”Could you show me some identification, Mr. Spenser?“
I got out the photostat of my license in its little plastic case and handed it to her. Also my driver’s license. She looked at them both and gave them back.
”I guess you really are a detective.“
”Thanks,“ I said, ”I need reassurance sometimes.“
”Just what do you know, Mr. Spenser?“
”I’ve been to Redford, Illinois, I’ve talked with Sheriff Donaldson and with your mother and
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