Nick as if his mind had been tuned in to receive it.
“And this is the gun. It’s loaded.” I handed him the case with the key in the lock. “You better take charge of it until we decide what to do. I have a query in on its original ownership.”
“Good.” He turned to Chalmers. “Where’s Nick?”
“In the house. We’re expecting Dr. Smitheram.”
Truttwell laid his hand on Chalmers’s bony shoulder. “Too bad you and Irene have to go through it again.”
“Please. We won’t discuss it.” Chalmers pulled away from Truttwell’s hand. He turned abruptly and marched in his stoical way toward the front door.
I followed Truttwell across the street to his house. In his study, he locked the evidence case in a fireproof steel cabinet. I said:
“I’m glad to get that off my hands. I didn’t want Lackland to catch me with it.”
“Do you think I should turn it over to him today?”
“Let’s see what Sacramento says about ownership. What did you mean, by the way, about Chalmers going through it all again? Has Nick been in this kind of trouble before?”
Truttwell took his time about answering. “It depends on what you mean by this kind of trouble. He’s never been mixed up in a homicide before, at least not to my knowledge. But he’s had one or two episodes—isn’t that what the psychiatrists call them? A few years ago he ran away, and it took a nationwide search to bring him home.”
“Was he on the hippie kick?”
“Not really. Actually he was trying to support himself. When the Pinkertons finally tracked him down on the east coast, he was working as a busboy in a restaurant. We managed to persuade him that he should come home and finish his education.”
“How does he feel about his parents?”
“He’s very close to his mother,” Truttwell said dryly, “if that’s desirable. I think he idolizes his father, but feels he can’t measure up. Which is exactly how Larry Chalmers felt about his own father, the Judge. I suppose these patterns have to go on repeating themselves.”
“You mentioned more than one episode,” I prompted him.
“So I did.” He sat down facing me. “It goes much further back, fourteen or fifteen years, and it may be the root of Nick’s trouble. Dr. Smitheram seems to think so. But beyond a certain point he won’t discuss it with me.”
“What happened?”
“That’s what Smitheram won’t discuss. I think Nick was picked up by some sort of sexual psychopath. His family got him back in a hurry, but not before Nick was frightened out of his wits. He was only eight years old at the time. You can understand why nobody likes to talk about it.”
I wanted to ask Truttwell some more questions, but the housekeeper tapped on the study door and opened it. “I heard you come in, Mr. Truttwell. Is there anything I can get you?”
“No thanks, Mrs. Glover. I’m going right out again. Where’s Betty, by the way?”
“I don’t know, sir.” But the woman looked at me, rather accusingly.
“She’s at the Chalmers house,” I said.
Truttwell got to his feet, his entire body making an angry gesture. “I don’t like that at all.”
“It couldn’t be helped. She was with me when I took Nick. She handled herself very well. And handled him.”
Truttwell struck his thigh with his fist. “I didn’t bring her up to be nurse to a psycho.”
The housekeeper had a terrified expression. She withdrew and closed the door without any sound.
“I’m going over there and bring her home,” Truttwell said.“She’s wasted her entire girlhood on that weakling.”
“She doesn’t seem to think it was all waste.”
“So you’re on
his
side?” He sounded like a rival.
“No. I’m on Betty’s side, and probably yours. This is a hell of a time to force a decision on her.”
Truttwell got the message after a moment’s thought. “You’re right, of course.”
chapter
9
Before he left the house, Truttwell filled a pipe and lit it with a kitchen match. I stayed
“And this is the gun. It’s loaded.” I handed him the case with the key in the lock. “You better take charge of it until we decide what to do. I have a query in on its original ownership.”
“Good.” He turned to Chalmers. “Where’s Nick?”
“In the house. We’re expecting Dr. Smitheram.”
Truttwell laid his hand on Chalmers’s bony shoulder. “Too bad you and Irene have to go through it again.”
“Please. We won’t discuss it.” Chalmers pulled away from Truttwell’s hand. He turned abruptly and marched in his stoical way toward the front door.
I followed Truttwell across the street to his house. In his study, he locked the evidence case in a fireproof steel cabinet. I said:
“I’m glad to get that off my hands. I didn’t want Lackland to catch me with it.”
“Do you think I should turn it over to him today?”
“Let’s see what Sacramento says about ownership. What did you mean, by the way, about Chalmers going through it all again? Has Nick been in this kind of trouble before?”
Truttwell took his time about answering. “It depends on what you mean by this kind of trouble. He’s never been mixed up in a homicide before, at least not to my knowledge. But he’s had one or two episodes—isn’t that what the psychiatrists call them? A few years ago he ran away, and it took a nationwide search to bring him home.”
“Was he on the hippie kick?”
“Not really. Actually he was trying to support himself. When the Pinkertons finally tracked him down on the east coast, he was working as a busboy in a restaurant. We managed to persuade him that he should come home and finish his education.”
“How does he feel about his parents?”
“He’s very close to his mother,” Truttwell said dryly, “if that’s desirable. I think he idolizes his father, but feels he can’t measure up. Which is exactly how Larry Chalmers felt about his own father, the Judge. I suppose these patterns have to go on repeating themselves.”
“You mentioned more than one episode,” I prompted him.
“So I did.” He sat down facing me. “It goes much further back, fourteen or fifteen years, and it may be the root of Nick’s trouble. Dr. Smitheram seems to think so. But beyond a certain point he won’t discuss it with me.”
“What happened?”
“That’s what Smitheram won’t discuss. I think Nick was picked up by some sort of sexual psychopath. His family got him back in a hurry, but not before Nick was frightened out of his wits. He was only eight years old at the time. You can understand why nobody likes to talk about it.”
I wanted to ask Truttwell some more questions, but the housekeeper tapped on the study door and opened it. “I heard you come in, Mr. Truttwell. Is there anything I can get you?”
“No thanks, Mrs. Glover. I’m going right out again. Where’s Betty, by the way?”
“I don’t know, sir.” But the woman looked at me, rather accusingly.
“She’s at the Chalmers house,” I said.
Truttwell got to his feet, his entire body making an angry gesture. “I don’t like that at all.”
“It couldn’t be helped. She was with me when I took Nick. She handled herself very well. And handled him.”
Truttwell struck his thigh with his fist. “I didn’t bring her up to be nurse to a psycho.”
The housekeeper had a terrified expression. She withdrew and closed the door without any sound.
“I’m going over there and bring her home,” Truttwell said.“She’s wasted her entire girlhood on that weakling.”
“She doesn’t seem to think it was all waste.”
“So you’re on
his
side?” He sounded like a rival.
“No. I’m on Betty’s side, and probably yours. This is a hell of a time to force a decision on her.”
Truttwell got the message after a moment’s thought. “You’re right, of course.”
chapter
9
Before he left the house, Truttwell filled a pipe and lit it with a kitchen match. I stayed
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