The Erection Set

“Nah. They’re as bad as the old maids. With all them relatives watching an’ the way their sisters hang on ‘em, all they do is talk. Oh, they’d like to cut loose. That Dennie pinched my niece’s ass once... sorry, ma’am... and Al, he took a short cut back to town with some lady entertainer they had out there and got stuck in a ditch by the river. Bennie Sachs was on night patrol and hauled them out. Old Al had some scratches on his cheek, but he said he got them from the bushes. The dame, she wasn’t talking and never said nothin’ anyway, so we made a few jokes about it, then it all died down.” Tod let out a rumbling chuckle again and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I still think he made a pass at her. It would take a blindman not to see that ditch in a full moon.”

“Lousy technique,” I said.

“You have a better one?” Sharon asked me.

“Later you’ll find out.”

“Ah, you kids,” Tod muttered.

I finished the beer and pushed off the stool. “Where does that niece of yours live?”

“Over on Highland. White house at the top of the hill.” He gave me a shrewd look. “You figuring to hang something on those cousins of yours?”

“I sure would like to have something to prod them with.”

“Anything doing, Louise’ll tell you. And good luck. I don’t like them snotnoses. Just tell Louise I sent you.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.”

“You coming back?”

I nodded and pushed a pair of singles across the bar. “Hell, Tod, I’m already here.”

Sharon was beginning to enjoy the game. Linton had been her backyard too and she knew her way around the streets and rear alleys better than I did, pointing out familiar landmarks, making me pause to look at her old school and stopping in a few stores to say hello to old friends. Of the dozen or so people I spoke to, she knew several of them, but all we managed to get was a blank as far as the Barrin family was concerned. The aristocracy was safely barricaded behind their fortifications on the estate with their private lives well hidden.

After supper she agreed to tackle Tod’s niece, dropped me off at the local precinct station and drove off. I watched the taillights disappear around the comer, then went up the steps into the building.

A cop going off duty directed me to an office on the right and I walked to the door, rapped twice and walked in. The burly-shouldered guy at the filing cabinet with his back to me said, “Be with you in a minute,” then flipped through a few folders, found the one he wanted and slammed the door in. When he turned around he was about to ask me to sit down, did a slow double take that wiped the forced smile off his face and just stood there, looking at me belligerently. “You, huh?”

“It was when I came in.”

“Don’t get smart, buddy.” His elbow hitched the gun in the belt holster up in an involuntary gesture, remembering me from the beach.

I said, “Then let’s, start from the beginning.”

Bennie Sachs wasn’t quite used to being pushed. He had been a small-town cop too long, used to doing the pushing, and when it went the other way he knew he had to be up against some kind of power package. I took a seat without being asked and waited until he had settled himself behind his desk.

Finally he settled back, his face a mash of complacency. “Let’s hear it, mister.”

“Kelly,” I said. “Dogeron Kelly, cousin to Al and Dennison Barrin. Cameron Barrin was my grandfather.”

When I mentioned Al and Dennie I saw the cold look come into his eyes, but that was all that showed. “Good for you,” he told me.

“I don’t dig my cousins anymore than you do, Mr. Sachs.”

He watched me for a moment, then a twist nudged the comer of his mouth and I knew the ice was broken. “What can I do for you?”

“Drag something out of your daily reports. It goes back aways.”

“Like to Alfred and that lady singer at the country club?”

“You nailed it,” I laughed.

“Not much to it. They were sitting down there in the car when I drove up. I threw a towrope around his axle and hauled them out. I followed them back into town in case they had busted something.”

“Al had scratches on his face, I understand.”

“From the bushes he said, three nice long even ones, spaced about as far apart as a woman’s fingers and nail deep. And there wasn’t even a shrub near that ditch.”

“How’d they do it?”

“Mr. Barrin said he lost control when he went onto the shoulder.”

“But what do you say?”

“I can guess.”

“So guess.”

“He tried a little grab-ass and the dame clouted him one. Those tire tracks S’ed all over the road before he went straight into the ditch.”

“Were they arguing?”

“Nope. All nice and neat. Real pals when I drove up. The dame wasn’t even mussed. It coulda happened like he said, especially if he’d been drinking, but I didn’t smell any booze on ’im and besides, I’d sooner think I had a dirty mind.”

“That’s all there was to it?”

“Got a case of booze the next day from an anonymous donor. Good Scotch. Seems like the Barrin butler bought it.

“Thought you weren’t supposed to take bribes?” I said through a laugh.