Rainbow's End (14 page)

“Rowing upstream?”

“Yes, past the island, and—”

“On past the landing—”

“And Dave, that's when we held still, as we didn't want to be seen, and—”

“Thought nothing of the boat—”

“That's right, until I screamed—”

“A real Jill Kreeger screech—”

“As it stopped, then headed for the inlet, and pulled up under that tree—”

“Wait a minute—how did we know
where
it pulled up? In the dark? It's 50 yards from the landing up to that inlet, and—”

“The tree is white, Dave—all sycamores are white. We could see the boat against it—”

“So OK, you screamed, and then what?”

“I kept screaming, I did.”

“And what did I do, Jill?”

“You hollered at him, that's what. You hollered: ‘Who are you, what do you want? What are you doing there?' ”

“And you kept on with your screaming. And then?”

“He left, all of a sudden.”

“How?”

“He began to row backwards.”

“Backing water, you mean?”

“Whatever it's called, Dave.”

After some time I asked: “How long did he stay by the tree?”

“No more than a couple of seconds, I would think, Dave. Long enough to get us excited. Not long enough to fish up our money.”

“Your money, Jill.”

When we had that all straightened out, we got on to the rest of it, my call to the sheriff's office and what I would say. But there we hit a snag, as we were blocked off from me reporting a theft or someone attempting a theft, as to do that I'd have to let on I knew what was in the tree. Then she hit on the idea that I didn't have any idea why someone would come messing around it, but it was on my place just the same, and for whatever reason he had, there somebody was, “and you want protection, Dave. That's what's on your mind. Here they've taken your rifle away, as everyone knows by now, as that was on TV, so everyone out here knows. And you have me to think of—”

“I want them to send somebody out?”

“That's it, Dave—the whole thing's got you scared, and you don't bring up the tree and what might be in it till tomorrow, and maybe not even then. Because whoever comes out, maybe he brings it up. Looks like he might, at that. But what you want is protection.”

“In other words, one thing at a time.”

“That's right—keep it simple.”

“When should I call, Jill?”

“You should call right away quick, after seeing that boat. And people take walks in the early evening, not in the middle of the night.”

“In other words,
now
.”

“Dave, I would.”

So I called. How much the night clerk cared was exactly not at all. He said the river was public, that anyone had the right to row on it day or night, that no charge could be brought or any arrest made, that the sheriff had no power to act. I said the tree was on my property, and he asked what charge I wanted brought. At that I blew my top. I bellowed into the phone: “So OK, now we know: A girl saves a plane and 28 lives besides the lives of the crew. I save the girl by shooting the guy that was swearing to kill her, and my stepmother tries to save the money the guy baled out with—and the thanks I get is to be told to stand by in case charged—with what, will you tell me that? And on top of that, you take my rifle in and now when I'm completely defenseless, how you help me out is give me a bunch of chatter about the river and how public it is. In God's name, what do I pay my taxes for?

A lot of talk from a night clerk? A lot of—”

“Hold on, hold on.”

“I won't hold on. I want action, and I mean to get it. Are you sending somebody out or—”

“What's your number, Mr. Howell?”

I calmed down and gave him my number. He said he'd call me back. As I hung up she burst out laughing and I had to join in. Then we were in each other's arms, the tears running down our faces, from how funny it was, and I had a hard time stiffening up, fighting the cackles back, so I could take the call back when it came. He said, “An officer will be out. It'll be a half-hour or so; he has to get dressed. If he's to spend the night, is there some place he can lie down?” I said, “Yes, sure,” and he said: “OK.”

I licked her tears away, the both of us giggling about it, and she said: “I ought to stay, I would think, to put in my two cents' worth. But I have to get dressed. My clothes are in your room.”

So we went in there, but before she could dress, she had to undress, and of course I had to help her. So pretty soon she was naked, the second time I'd seen her that way, and it was marvelous to sit on the bed, pull her over to me, and kiss her in all sorts of beautiful places. She didn't seem to mind, and in fact helped once or twice, by pushing things at me I had missed the first time around. But then she backed away and began pulling things on—pantyhose, bra, and dress. She walked around to the kitchen, got her galoshes and put them back in the car. Then she came back and got her new coat from the closet in the den, brought it out to the living room, and threw it on a chair. Then she sat down on the sofa, motioning me beside her. But then all of a sudden, almost in a panic, she jumped up, telling me: “If you're putting him in there, the officer when he comes, in Mrs. Howell's room, we should put sheets on the bed. Do you have any?”

I said I thought there were some in the hall closet upstairs, and we went racing up to find them. Sure enough, there they were, with a pillow case, and we came tearing down again to put them on the bed. She had just finished up and we were heading for the sofa when a car pulled up outside. When I opened the door, Mantle was getting out. “Well!” I said. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Maybe to you,” he growled.

“I'm sorry, I've been pretty nervous out here.”

He came in and when he saw Jill warmed up a little. “And—speaking of pleasant surprises,” he told her, shaking hands, “I guess this one helps a little.”

“Deputy Mantle.”

We all sat down and I offered a drink. He declined, explaining that he was on duty. I offered something to eat, but he declined that too. Then he asked some questions about the “prowler,” as he called him, that the night clerk seemed to have told him about, seeming a bit puzzled by the boat we had said appeared, “and what it was doing there.” I said: “If you're mixed up, it's nothing to what we were.”

“It still makes no sense to me,” she put in. “What on earth, what in the world—?”

“Well, in the morning we'll see,” he yawned, in a way that seemed to say we'd covered it for tonight. I told him I'd show him his bedroom, and he answered that as he was on duty he couldn't go to bed, but would “lie down if I may—of course I'll take off my shoes.”

I opened the door of Mom's room and suddenly he said: “Oh, I almost forgot: The clerk mentioned that you didn't have any weapon, now that we've impounded yours, so I brought you one as temporary replacement. I agree that with all this stuff about money coming out on TV and in the papers, you need it as something to reach for in a hurry. I brought you a rifle that's been kicking around the office, an old one, like yours. Hold everything, I'll get it.”

He went out and came back with a rifle. He handed it over, saying: “Clip's in the chamber, not in the barrel yet—it takes a bolt action to load.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “it's a Springfield!” And then: “Mr. Howell's is an Enfield, but I like a Springfield better.” And then, at the surprised look on his face: “When I was in summer camp, they took us out on the range.”

“Nice to be an expert.”

He handed it over to me, and I took it through Mom's room back to the kitchen and stood it in its place inside the back door. When I got back, she was putting on her coat, he helping her. “I have to be getting back,” she told me. When she'd shaken hands with him and he'd given her a pat, I took her out to her car. “Was I all right?” she whispered.

“Perfect,” I told her.

“Well, if he was baffled about the boat, why wouldn't
we
be baffled by it?”

“That's it, something like that ought not to match up completely. When something's too good, it's not good.”

“You love me?”

“I'm nuts about you.”

She pulled me to her and kissed me, then let me close the door, and started the motor. She put on her lights and I stood waving as she drove off. I went back in and told Mantle where the bathroom was, showed him the thing with a handle on it under the bed, and said good night.

I
GOT UP, DRESSED
, and tiptoed up to the bathroom, but the towels told me he had already been there. I shaved, washed up, and came down, and when I went in the living room, the door of Mom's room was open, the bed was made up, the receptacle under the bed, if it had ever been used, was empty, and everything was in order. When I looked out, Mantle was standing beside his car, talking into the phone. I opened the door and waved. He waved back but kept talking.

When he finally came in I told him to sit down and I'd get him some breakfast. He thanked me, but said he would eat in town. But the way he said it was different from the way he'd acted before, and it didn't seem that Jill's not being there quite accounted for it. He hadn't hid that he liked her, but after she left he'd been friendly enough still, and it kept gnawing at me that something had happened to him right there in the house that had caused his change of manner. Then I thought it couldn't be that, as nothing could have happened between his going to bed and getting up—and decided it had to be something caused by his phone call, perhaps some word of Mom. Later, though, I was to find out that things could happen to him, and did—right there in the house, right in Mom's room, where he had spent the night. He was writing in a notebook without looking at me. Then: “Mr. Howell, if you'll ring Miss Kreeger, and ask her to please come out for further questioning today, it'll save my having to. And I'd ring that lawyer you had—Mr. Bledsoe. Have him come out. Have her and him and yourself on hand by 11:00, when Sergeant Edgren will be ready to start—and probably Mr. Knight.”

“What is this, Mr. Mantle?”

“Just matters that have come up.”

“Can you give me some idea what?”

“We can and will—all in due time.” He looked at his watch, made more notes in his book, then repeated: “Eleven o'clock—I just talked to the sergeant, and he should be through by then, with some calls he'll have to put in.”

“About this case?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What calls?”

“All in due time. You'll know.”

With kind of a wave, he went out, got in his car, and drove off. I called her at the Occidental, and we tried to figure it out, what had caused the change, from a friendly enough officer the night before to a gimlet-eyed sleuth the next day. All of a sudden she asked: “The tree—what did he say about it?”

“He didn't mention it.”

“Not at all?”

“No.”

“What did you say?”

“I was too worried about what had changed him to think about the tree. One thing at a time. When they get through with their questions, we can start up with ours.”

“It's my money, though.”

“It'll still be there.”

“I'll feel better when I have it.”

Bledsoe wasn't home. It turned out that he'd had to make a speech and had spent the night in Parkersburg. When I reached him at his office after he came in late, he didn't at all want to come out.

“I'm busy as hell and just can't spare the time.” But when I told him how Mantle was acting, he decided he could after all. So around 10:00 Jill came, bringing York with her, their quarrel apparently patched up. Then Bledsoe came and we all checked it over, the little I knew to tell them, trying to figure what it was all about. York went to Mom's room and rummaged around looking for what might be there, and Jill went in and looked, but what they came up with was nothing, and what we all four figured out was the same. Then Edgren and Mantle came out in separate cars, and after them Mr. Knight in still another car. They all spoke kind of grim without really looking at us, except that Knight was grim to the officers as well as to us, as though he didn't really have faith in whatever was coming off. It wasn't much, but Bledsoe looked at me, then at Jill, and she looked at me like she wanted to throw me a wink.

But Edgren got at it at once, telling everyone to please sit down, which we did, Jill and I on the sofa, the others in chairs. He started in on me, referring to a paper he had, which I assumed was the night clerk's report, and taking me over it again, what I had said on the phone and later in person to Mantle. Something kept whispering to me: “Don't play it too smart; don't know too much.” So when he asked about the boat we said we had seen, how many persons were in it, I said, “It was dark; I couldn't see.” And when he asked: “How big a boat, Mr. Howell?”—I told him: “It was a rowboat, that's all I know.”

“A johnboat, would you say?”

“I wouldn't say, I couldn't see.”

“What did they want with the tree?”

“I don't know, you'd better ask them.”

“What would you think they wanted?”

“I've told you, I don't know, but I'd give a lot to find out.”

“And I'd give a lot more.”

That was Jill, and Edgren snapped at her: “I wasn't asking you.”

“No, but I'm telling you! Could be, it has something to do with my money,
my
money, Sergeant Edgren, not Mr. Howell's money or your money or Mr. Knight's money, but my money, and if you'd do what you're supposed to, get off your backside and start in looking, ʼstead of sitting around here talking, we all might be better off, and specially I might be.”