McNally's risk

"Things," Louise Hawkin said darkly. She finished her drink and held the empty glass out to me. Obediently I returned to that smelly kitchen, realizing I was no better than Hector Johnson. But if I didn't fetch her lethe she'd get it herself. Still…

I sat across from her, leaning forward, intent on keeping up with her fleeting moods.

"Mrs. Hawkin, I don't know if you're aware of it, but I met with Marcia the afternoon before she died."

I saw her stiffen. "Did you?" she said. "What did you talk about?"

"It was a rather disjointed conversation. I didn't clearly understand it. She was obviously disturbed."

"Marcia was insane!" she said forcibly. "I wanted her to get help but she wouldn't. What did she say?"

"Something about a business deal she was pla

"Oh that!" she said, and her laugh was ti

"Oh, that's what it was all about," I said. I relaxed, sat back, crossed my legs. "So I guess it was Hector she was going to visit after she left me."

Then that expression I had previously been unable to identify returned more strongly and I recognized it. It was fear, and the last time I had seen it was during my talk with Pinky Schatz in Lauderdale.

"It might have been," Mrs. Hawkin said, shrugging. "It's not important."

"Of course not," I agreed. "That's police business, not mine."

She responded hotly. "Police business? What do you mean by that?"

"Why naturally they'll be trying to trace Marcia's movements the night she was killed. I suppose they'll be talking to all her friends."

She looked at me. "Marcia didn't have any friends," she said flatly.

That might have been true but it struck me as a cruel thing to say. I remembered that poor waif telling me that I was her best friend.

I finished my drink and rose. "I think I better run along," I said. "Thank you for your hospitality and I hope-"

"No," she said. "Stay."

"I'd like to," I said. "I really would. But I promised my parents to accompany them to a croquet match."

"Too bad," she said. "I hate to be alone, and Heck's gone somewhere for the day."

"Why don't you call Theodosia to come over and keep you company."

"That bitch?" Louise Hawkin said tonelessly. "I'd rather be alone."

I could not reply to that so I made my adieu and departed.

"Thanks for the glads," she called after me.

I drove home slowly, trying to nuzzle things out. My visit to Louise Hawkin had been pla

It was during a long, lazy ocean swim that I realized my seam's risks, initially treated with sangfroid, could very well prove to be heavier than I had first calculated. They might, in fact, endanger the physical well-being of your humble correspondent. In spite of what I had heard from Mrs. Hawkin I had no intention of abandoning my cu

The perils of what I pla

During the family cocktail hour I confessed to the mater I had purloined one of her beloved begonias and had given it to the bereaved Louise Hawkin.

Mother beamed, kissed me, and said, "That was sweet of you, Archy."

It was indicative of my mood that a bit of wisdom-"A good deed never goes unpunished."-popped into my mind.

"Father," I said, "could you spare me a few minutes after di

"How many minutes?" he demanded. He can be something of a martinet at times.

"Fifteen," I said, knowing it would be thirty and possibly more.

"Very well," he said. "In my study."

Di

After a lime sorbet and coffee I followed father into his study and closed the door. He seated himself behind his magisterial desk, and I selected a straight-back chair facing him. I did not want to become too comfortable.

Ordinarily my liege does not request, nor do I provide, progress reports during the course of my investigations. He tells me he is only interested in results. That may be true but I suspect it is also self-protective. He is well aware that my detective methods, while not actually illegal, might be considered unethical or immoral. And he doesn't wish to hear the gruesome details. In other words, he wants no guilty knowledge. I don't blame him a bit; he has more to lose than I.

But my current inquiry, involving the Smythe-Hersforths, the Johnsons, Reuben Hagler, the Hawkins, Shirley Feebling, and Pinky Schatz, was a special case. I needed someone to share my information and my suspicions so that if I met my quietus (sob!) the investigation could continue and my labors would not be wasted.

I told him everything: what had happened, what I had learned, what I surmised, and what I pla

But when I finished, his wrath was evident. His courtroom stare was cold enough to chill all that merlot I had imbibed at di

"If I thought it would do any good," he said in a stony voice, "I would absolutely forbid you to do what you contemplate. The potential hazards are too great. But I don't imagine you would obey my command."

"No, sir," I said, "I would not. There is no real evidence that what I suspect did, in fact, occur. The only way I can prove my hypothesis is to offer myself as a greedy dupe. If there was a less dangerous way of unraveling this tangle, I would happily adopt it."

"Archy," he said, genuinely perplexed, "what is your obviously intense personal interest in all this? It doesn't directly concern McNally and Son. It's a police matter."

"Not totally," I said. "There are co

He looked at me a long time. "Lochinvar," he accused.

"No, father," I said. "Nemesis."

His anger was slowly transformed to a concern that affected me. "Is Sergeant Rogoff aware of all this?" he asked.

"Some of it, but not all. I intend to tell him more tomorrow after my meeting this evening with Hector Johnson. I'm going to ask Al to provide some measure of backup protection."

"Yes," he said, "that would be wise. Do you think you should be armed?"

"No, sir. If a concealed weapon is found or suspected, it might prove an irritant. A fatal irritant."

His smile was wan. "Perhaps you're right. You're playing a very risky game. I know you're aware of it and I won't attempt to dissuade you. All I ask is that if things become too hairy, you shut down your operation at once and extricate yourself. You understand? If there is no hope of success, give it up and withdraw immediately. Agreed?"

"Yes, father," I said. "Agreed."

I think we both knew that if I failed, a safe withdrawal would be most unlikely.

I went upstairs and spent the remaining hour rehearsing my role once again. I tried to imagine what objections might be made and what my responses should be. I reviewed the entire scenario and could see no holes that needed plugging. I felt I had devised as tight a scheme as possible. The only thing I could not be sure of was luck, and it was discouraging to recall Hector's remark that when you really need it, it disappears.