They make ’em. We don’t.” He laughed. “Poor old Charlie knew how absurd the rules are. Why should there be a rule that says you can’t appear in public without your pants? Anybody could forget his pants—if he was in a hurry, or he was thinking about something else. But Charlie knew the rules. If the great Douglas Maxwell appeared without his pants, he couldn’t get elected to the United States Senate. No matter how good he was, you understand, how honest, how well-equipped. No pants, no Senate.”
“You knew my cousin Charles?” Maxwell said.
“Sure I knew him. A great guy, Charlie.”
“You knew what he planned to do tonight?”
“Sure I knew. Man, he needed an audience ready to laugh.”
“You know the two men who arrived at the hotel with him?” Hardy asked.
Cloud wagged a finger at him. “‘Heah come de fuzz!’” he said. “Remember, Daddio, no lawyer, no questions from the fuzz.”
Maxwell drew a deep breath. “Political warfare is one thing, Cloud. Murder is something else again. We can’t live with anarchy.”
“Man, who says so?” Cloud said, grinning. “Anarchy would be a lot better than living in a world with your no-pants rules. Anyhow, you didn’t get murdered, man. It was Charlie who got it.”
“Meant for me,” Maxwell said. “It was the sheerest luck that I didn’t get it ten minutes later. If Charlie hadn’t—”
“Man, you sound like you were proud it was meant for you,” Cloud interrupted. “Did you ever think it might not have been meant for you at all? Did you ever think it might have all been part of Charlie’s joke? He didn’t have too much to live for. Maybe he thought the biggest joke of all would be for people to think you killed him, or had him killed, for making a joke of you. Was it that way, man? I mean, was it?”
The color drained from Maxwell’s face. The muscles were knotted along his jaw lines. “I don’t think there’s any purpose in continuing this, Lieutenant,” he said.
“I second the motion,” Hardy said. “Come on, Cloud.”
“Sure, man,” Cloud said. “Which way to the Bastille?”
“I’ll call your lawyer for you, Claude,” Diana said.
Cloud waved at her. “I guess maybe the time has come, baby. Thanks.” He started for the door and turned back. “I’m not against murder, Maxwell, if it helps to get rid of pollution. But I’m not, personally, an executioner, man. I’m scared of guns—and firecrackers. Not that that would matter any. Barry Tennant didn’t like guns and he didn’t own one. But you fixed him, man. You know, I was real surprised you didn’t find a bomb in my pocket when you arrested me. The name of the game is frame.”
Maxwell turned away. “Get him out of here,” he said.
When the door closed on Cloud and Hardy, I felt as if a balloon had been deflated. Maxwell went over to the bar and poured himself a drink. He turned back, finally, to Diana, as if the drink had given him strength.
“I know you came to see your mother,” he said. He was dismissing her.
“Where is she?” Diana asked. It was a death struggle between these two, I thought, with Maxwell seeming the more vulnerable.
Maxwell nodded toward the door to the bedrooms and turned away again. It developed that Diana was going to have to walk through, around, or over Chambrun to make it. He stood directly in front of the door, rocking gently on his heels.
“What is this ‘frame-up’ gibberish?” he asked.
“Please, I’d like to go to Mother,” Diana said.
“Let’s not play games, Diana,” Chambrun said. “I’ve known you since you were a baby. I was at your christening. I’ve watched this feud grow between you and your father, and I’ve stayed out of it. None of my business—until tonight. Tonight my hotel has been used as a stage for murder. It has been used as a stage for a bad-taste practical joke. Would you believe that I may be more offended by that than the shooting? Cloud tells us that he knew what
“You knew my cousin Charles?” Maxwell said.
“Sure I knew him. A great guy, Charlie.”
“You knew what he planned to do tonight?”
“Sure I knew. Man, he needed an audience ready to laugh.”
“You know the two men who arrived at the hotel with him?” Hardy asked.
Cloud wagged a finger at him. “‘Heah come de fuzz!’” he said. “Remember, Daddio, no lawyer, no questions from the fuzz.”
Maxwell drew a deep breath. “Political warfare is one thing, Cloud. Murder is something else again. We can’t live with anarchy.”
“Man, who says so?” Cloud said, grinning. “Anarchy would be a lot better than living in a world with your no-pants rules. Anyhow, you didn’t get murdered, man. It was Charlie who got it.”
“Meant for me,” Maxwell said. “It was the sheerest luck that I didn’t get it ten minutes later. If Charlie hadn’t—”
“Man, you sound like you were proud it was meant for you,” Cloud interrupted. “Did you ever think it might not have been meant for you at all? Did you ever think it might have all been part of Charlie’s joke? He didn’t have too much to live for. Maybe he thought the biggest joke of all would be for people to think you killed him, or had him killed, for making a joke of you. Was it that way, man? I mean, was it?”
The color drained from Maxwell’s face. The muscles were knotted along his jaw lines. “I don’t think there’s any purpose in continuing this, Lieutenant,” he said.
“I second the motion,” Hardy said. “Come on, Cloud.”
“Sure, man,” Cloud said. “Which way to the Bastille?”
“I’ll call your lawyer for you, Claude,” Diana said.
Cloud waved at her. “I guess maybe the time has come, baby. Thanks.” He started for the door and turned back. “I’m not against murder, Maxwell, if it helps to get rid of pollution. But I’m not, personally, an executioner, man. I’m scared of guns—and firecrackers. Not that that would matter any. Barry Tennant didn’t like guns and he didn’t own one. But you fixed him, man. You know, I was real surprised you didn’t find a bomb in my pocket when you arrested me. The name of the game is frame.”
Maxwell turned away. “Get him out of here,” he said.
When the door closed on Cloud and Hardy, I felt as if a balloon had been deflated. Maxwell went over to the bar and poured himself a drink. He turned back, finally, to Diana, as if the drink had given him strength.
“I know you came to see your mother,” he said. He was dismissing her.
“Where is she?” Diana asked. It was a death struggle between these two, I thought, with Maxwell seeming the more vulnerable.
Maxwell nodded toward the door to the bedrooms and turned away again. It developed that Diana was going to have to walk through, around, or over Chambrun to make it. He stood directly in front of the door, rocking gently on his heels.
“What is this ‘frame-up’ gibberish?” he asked.
“Please, I’d like to go to Mother,” Diana said.
“Let’s not play games, Diana,” Chambrun said. “I’ve known you since you were a baby. I was at your christening. I’ve watched this feud grow between you and your father, and I’ve stayed out of it. None of my business—until tonight. Tonight my hotel has been used as a stage for murder. It has been used as a stage for a bad-taste practical joke. Would you believe that I may be more offended by that than the shooting? Cloud tells us that he knew what
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