Read Online Down for the Count: A Toby Peters Mystery (Book Ten) by Stuart M. Kaminsky - Free Book Online

going to fix a fight so his boy, Howard’s boy, would win. A big fight Howard was supposed to set up using his Washington connections.”
    “And?”
    “There is no ‘and,’” Paitch said, picking up his suitcase. “That’s all I’ve got. If it’s not worth a job, I’ll settle for cab fare. It’s waiting up on the road.” He nodded in the direction of the highway, where a Yellow was sitting.
    “Go to Grumman, the valley plant. Tell Personnel Jack Ellis recommended you for the security job. Lie a lot about your background.”
    “Ellis, Grumman. Got it. Hey, you tell anybody I told you that fight-fixing business, and I say no. Got it?”
    “I’ve got it,” I said as he walked past me and hurried up the hill to the asphalt driveway.
    The beach was empty when I rounded the corner of the house and looked down. Ralph’s body was gone, which was no surprise, and there was no new one to replace it. There were no girls frolicking in the surf and no Joe Louis running in the sand. The sign telling frolickers to call the Marines when the Japanese invasion began was still there. When I knocked, Anne came to the door wearing a floppy green sweater and dark slacks. Her makeup was fine but her hair wasn’t perfect. Almost perfect, but not perfect. She looked tired. She also looked down at the beach and licked her upper lip.
    “I thought you had a maid during the day or something,” I said, pulling her back from the beach.
    “That Meara took Anjelica to the station to question her,” Anne said softly. “Her English is awful. Anjelica is, I’m afraid, in for a very hard time.”
    She stepped back and I went in.
    “Have you eaten?” she asked.
    “Yeah,” I said, following her down the hall.
    “Tacos or hot dogs?” she said without looking back.
    “Tuna on whole wheat, orange juice and … okay, tacos and a Pepsi,” I finished.
    Her head shook as she walked, and her low hard heels clacked against the polished wooden floor. We were in the kitchen with lots of light coming through the window and a nice view of the beach and other houses. The stretch of beach where I’d found the body wasn’t visible from here. Anne poured us both coffee, and we sat across from each other at a round wooden table inlaid with Mexican tiles shaped like birds. We didn’t talk for a few minutes, just drank and looked out the window.
    “I called Ralph’s office this morning,” she said. “Ten minutes later I got a call from someone who said Howard Hughes was sorry and did I need anything. I think it was Hughes. Maybe not.”
    I went on saying nothing.
    “Don’t pursue this, Toby,” she said, finally putting her cup down. “Meara will give up. Ralph’s … he simply met the wrong people. I’m sorry if I tried to make you feel guilty last night. Ralph was responsible for himself. I don’t know who killed him or why, but he’s dead and I won’t feel any better if they’re caught.”
    “The cops aren’t looking for the killer to make you feel better, Anne. They’re doing it to make themselves feel better. I’m doing it to make myself feel better and for other reasons.”
    “Before you ask,” she said, looking away from me to the beach, “I don’t know what people Ralph was dealing with or what was going on. He was upset … I … He did have a notebook, an address book he carried with him. The police couldn’t find it. It might have some names in it. They think whoever killed him took it to—”
    I pulled out the notebook from my jacket pocket and held it up. She looked at it and sagged back in her chair.
    “Toby. That was stupid. Leave it here. I’ll tell them I found it in another jacket of Ralph’s.”
    “Fine,” I agreed. “I’ve copied all the names anyway. But let’s take a few minutes going through it to see if anything rings a bell.”
    Few bells were rung by the twenty-six names in the book. The few that were familiar to Anne were social contacts and a few business ties. I made notes in my own