A Long Line of Dead Men

"Nothing," I said. "He had a lot of questions and a couple of theories, but he didn't suggest anything I hadn't thought of myself. As far as Forest Hills is concerned, I think I'm going to have to go out there. What's the forecast? Is it going to rain?"

"Hot and humid."

"That'll be a change, won't it?"

"More of the same tomorrow. Possibility of rain on Monday."

"That won't do me any good," I said. "I was hoping it would rain today, or at least threaten to."

"Why?"

"So I could get out of traipsing out to Forest Hills. I ought to see Alan Watson's widow and I'm not looking forward to it."

"No, but you'll do it," she said. "And if it was raining you'd go out there in the rain, knowing you. It'd be the same trip, only you'd get wet. So you're lucky it's only hot and humid."

"I'm glad you pointed that out to me."

"So enjoy yourself with the widow. What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, of course not. Although I can't say I expect to enjoy it."

"Whatever, darling. Just so you're back here by eight this evening. We've got a date, remember?"

"You still want to go?"

"Uh-huh. We should get there by ten, and we'll want to have dinner first. Should I cook something for us or do you want to eat someplace downtown?"

I told her not to cook, that there was no end of nice restaurants within a five-minute walk of Marilyn's Chamber. "Although for fifty bucks a couple," I said, "you'd think the bastards could feed us."

"The body parts are just for show," she said. "It's considered bad form to eat them."

I went across the street to my hotel, collected my mail at the desk, went upstairs, and called the number I had for Alan Watson. It rang ten times, unanswered by human being or machine. I sorted my mail, threw out most of it, wrote checks for the rent and phone bill, checked the number with Queens Information to make sure I had it right, then dialed it again and listened to it ring another eight or ten times.

I broke the connection and called Lewis Hildebrand. The woman who answered told me he was working and offered to give me his office number. I told her I already had it, and when I dialed Hildebrand answered it himself.

"You're as bad as I am," he said. "Working on a Saturday. Though I don't know if I'm working or I just felt like getting out of the house. There's something extremely relaxing about a suite of offices when you're the only person around. It feels as though the whole place belongs to me."

"Doesn't it?"

"Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. But it's different when I'm the only one here. Late at night, or on a weekend. I had a call from Ray Gruliow."

"I was there."

"A second call. As of last night, there are still two members he hasn't been able to reach. Three of the others said they definitely can't make it on Tuesday, and a fourth has a conflict but will try to be there."

"Assuming he can't work it out, how many is Gruliow expecting?"

"Eight."

"That's including you and Gruliow?"

"Yes, and you'll be the ninth person present. I believe we'll be expecting you at three-thirty."

"I thought three o'clock."

"We'll be getting together at three," he said. "The members. The consensus was that we'd have half an hour together to discuss the situation, and then you'll join us."

"All right," I said. "That sounds good. I don't know exactly what role I'll play, but I suppose I'll be reporting on what I've determined and making recommendations as to what I think you ought to do."

"I would assume so, yes."

"But you're the man who hired me, so I wanted to give you a preliminary report." And I did, going over what I'd learned and what I'd come to suspect, summarizing, running it all down as much for my own benefit as for his.

"It sounds," he told me, "as though you've done a great deal."

"I know it does," I said. "It sounds that way to me, too. God knows I've been busy. I haven't kept track of my hours, but it seems to me I've put a lot of time in."

"If you've done more work than your retainer covers-"

"I don't know if I have or not, and that's something I don't want to worry about now. No, the point is I've done a lot and I've even assembled a fair amount of data, but I'm not sure what it amounts to. Am I any closer to wrapping it up than I was when we sat down to lunch at the Addison Club? I don't know that I am."

"What would constitute 'wrapping it up'?"

"Answering the major questions."

"Which are?"

"Is someone killing off the members? If so, who is he? And where is he, and how can we nail him for it? I'd say those are the main questions. I'm inclined to answer the first question with a tentative yes, but as far as the other questions are concerned, I'm still completely in the dark."

"Answering them would constitute bringing the entire case to a conclusion, wouldn't it?"

"I guess it would."