Canvas Coffin Read Free Page B

got into the elevator first?”
    I was going to say I didn’t remember, but then I thought of his earlier words. He’d mentioned the room clerk, but not the elevator operator. Maybe he was a fight fan, too.
    I said, “Neither. We walked up.”
    I could hear Max’s quick intake of breath, and the sergeant must have, too. He glanced quickly at Max, and back to me.
    His voice was softly casual. “I want to play along with you, Champ. But I’m all cop, first. A lie, now, would put you in a real rough spot from here on.”
    “I can’t afford to lie,” I said, “now or ever.”
    “And maybe you can’t afford not to.” He looked over at Max. “Both of you come to the west-side station at four, and fill out your statements. Ask for me; I’ll be there.” He paused. “We’re keeping this quiet as we can, as long as we can. Boxing couldn’t take it, today. But we can’t work any miracles.” He didn’t say good-by.
    Silence in the room, and then we heard the elevator door slam, and Max went to our door and opened it to look down the hall.
    When he closed it again, I said, “You should have briefed me. You did walk up last night, didn’t you?”
    He nodded. “I can’t think of everything. I haven’t had much experience with murder. They’re going to go easy, you know that? It’s the title, and we’ve always been cleaner than most, and they’re going to go easy.”
    “The man’s all cop,” I answered. “He said that, and I believe him. He’s all cop, and smart.”
    “We’re dumb?”
    “We’re dumb in lots of ways. I wish Sally was here. She’s not dumb any way.”
    Max looked at me bleakly. “She’s got a lot of reading behind her. A hell of a lot of good that’ll do us in this mess.”
    “She’ll think of something,” I said. “I don’t want to think about it any more, Max.”
    “No, you never want to think. I spoiled you. Aach — ” He went over to slump on a love seat.
    I left him there, staring at the carpet, while I went in to take a hot, hot shower. I was itchy and jumpy and the cool eyes of Sergeant Sands were still in my memory.
    If he was going easy on us, it was because of orders from upstairs. I had the feeling that Sergeant Sands wasn’t even easy on himself.
    The needle shower dug at me and steam filled the shower stall. My mind went reaching back for last night, trying to find a frame for the picture of Mary Kostanic, alias Brenda Vane. Somebody had really worked on that face. Me?
    Killer Pilgrim.
    I was shaving when the phone shrilled. The bathroom door was open now, and I could see Max at the phone. I could hear, “Yeah. Right. Sure I know him. Jesu-us!” Max turned to look my way and shook his head. “Course. We’ll be there as quick as we can make it.”
    I had stopped shaving, and I came out now into the sitting-room.
    “Charley Retzer,” Max said. “In a hospital. Been unconscious since they picked him up on the street at eleven last night.”
    “I did that to him?” I said. “Or a car? What is it?”
    “Not you,” Max said quickly. “You and everybody else who’s ever hit Charley. But it was your name he remembered when he came to. We’ve got time, but it’ll be a rat race. From there to the station and then to eat and then the airport. Why’d they phone
us?”
    “Easy, Max. Slow down.”
    He took a deep breath.
    I said evenly and slowly, “We can miss Sally at the airport and we can miss the session at the station. But we’ve got to see Charley. That’s the one important thing.”
    “All right.
All right!”
    I went into the bedroom to dress, and Max followed me in. He said wearily, “Since when are you getting sentimental? Think of the times he’s gouged you and butted you and elbowed you and open-handed you. If you’re going to get soft, why Charley?”
    “The way he fought was the way he learned to fight,” I said. “There wasn’t anything personal in it; it was just a way to win. Max, he’s one of ours. He’s our kind of