Scenarios - A Collection of Nameless Detective Stories Read Free Page B

"Well?"
    "One item," I said, "that wasn't in the papers."
    "What's that?"
    "They found a pint of Kesslers in a paper bag in Colly's coat pocket."
    He shrugged. "It was a liquor store, wasn't it? Maybe he slipped it into his pocket on the way out?"
    "And put it into a paper bag first?"
    "People do funny things," he said.
    "Yeah," I said. I drank some of the coffee and then got on my feet. "I'll let you get to bed, Eb . Thanks again."
    He grunted. "You owe me a favor. Just remember that."
    "I won't forget."
    "You and the elephants," he said.
     
    I t was still raining the next morning - another dismal day. I drove over to Chenery Street and wedged my car into a downhill parking slot a half-block from the three-room apartment Lucille and Colly Babcock had called home for the past year. I hurried through the rain, feeling the chill of it on my face, and mounted sagging wooden steps to the door.
    Lucille answered immediately. She wore the same black dress she'd had on yesterday, and the same controlled mask of grief; it would be a long time before that grief faded and she was able to get on with her life. Maybe never, unless somebody proved her right about Colly's innocence.
    I sat in the old, stuffed leather chair by the window: Colly's chair. Lucille said, "Can I get you something?"
    I shook my head. "What about you? Have you eaten anything today? Or yesterday?"
    "No," she answered.
    "You have to eat, Lucille."
    "Maybe later. Don't worry, I'm not suicidal. I won't starve myself to death."
    I managed a small smile. "All right," I said.
    "Why are you here?" she asked. "Do you have any news?"
    "No, not yet." I had an idea, but it was only that, and too early. I did not want to instill any false hopes. "I just wanted to ask you a few more questions."
    "Oh. What questions?"
    "You mentioned yesterday that Colly liked to take walks in the evening. Was he in the habit of walking to any particular place, or in any particular direction?"
    "No," Lucille said. "He just liked to walk. He was gone for a couple of hours sometimes."
    "He never told you where he'd been?"
    "Just here and there in the neighborhood."
    Here and there in the neighborhood, I thought. The alley where Colly had been shot was eleven blocks from this apartment. He could have walked in a straight line, or he could have gone roundabout in any direction.
    I asked, "Colly liked to have a nightcap when he came back from these walks, didn't he?"
    "He did, yes."
    "He kept liquor here, then?"
    "One bottle of bourbon. That's all."
    I rotated my hat in my hands. "I wonder if I could have a small drink, Lucille. I know it's early, but . . ."
    She nodded and got up and went to a squat cabinet near the kitchen door. She bent, slid the panel open in front, looked inside. Then she straightened. "I'm sorry," she said. "We . . . I seem to be out."
    I stood. "It's okay. I should be going anyway."
    "Where will you go now?"
    "To see some people." I paused. "Would you happen to have a photograph of Colly? A snapshot, something like that?"
    "I think so. Why do you want it?"
    "I might need to show it around," I said. "Here in the neighborhood."
    She seemed satisfied with that. "I'll see if I can find one for you."
    I waited while she went into the bedroom. A couple of minutes later she returned with a black-and-white snap of Colly, head and shoulders, that had been taken in a park somewhere. He was smiling, one eyebrow raised in mock raffishness .
    I put the snap into my pocket and thanked Lucille and told her I would be in touch again pretty soon. Then I went to the door and let myself out.
    The skies seemed to have parted like the Red Sea. Drops of rain as big as hail pellets lashed the sidewalk. Thunder rumbled in the distance, edging closer. I pulled the collar of my overcoat tight around my neck and made a run for my car.
     
    I t was after four o'clock when I came inside a place called Tay's Liquors on Whitney Street and stood dripping water on the floor. There was a heater on a shelf just