Read Online The Goodbye Look by Ross MacDonald - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ross MacDonald
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they paid no attention.
His wife moved toward me, and drew me to one side. Her eyes were dull and unsurprised, as if she’d been hit by something that she’d seen coming from a long way off.
“Dr. Smitheram wants to take Nick to his clinic. What do you think we should do?”
“I agree with Mr. Truttwell. Your son needs legal security as well as medical.”
“Why?” she said bluntly.
“He killed a man last night, he says, and he’s been talking about it quite freely.”
I paused to let the fact sink in. She handled it almost as if she’d been expecting it. “Who is the man?”
“Sidney Harrow is his name. He was involved in the theft of your Florentine box. So was Nick, apparently.”
“Nick was?”
“I’m afraid so. With all these things on his mind, I don’t think you should put him in any kind of clinic or hospital. Hospitals are always full of leaks, as Truttwell says. Couldn’t you keep him at home?”
“Who would watch him?”
“You and your husband.”
She glanced at her husband, appraisingly. “Maybe. I don’t know if Larry is up to it. It doesn’t show but he’s terribly emotional, especially where Nick is concerned.” She moved closer, letting me feel the influence of her body. “Would you, Mr. Archer?”
“Would I what?”
“Stand watch over Nick tonight?”
“No.” The word came out hard and definite.
“We’re paying your salary, you know.”
“And I’ve been earning it. But I’m not a psychiatric nurse.”
“I’m sorry I asked you.”
There was a sting in her words. She turned her back on me and moved away. I decided I’d better get out of town before she had me fired. I went and told John Truttwell where I was going and why.
Truttwell’s argument with the doctor had cooled down. Heintroduced me to Smitheram, who gave me a soft handclasp and a hard look. There was a troubled intelligence in his eyes.
I said: “I’d like to ask you some questions about Nick.”
“This isn’t the time or the place.”
“I realize that, doctor. I’ll see you at your office tomorrow.”
“If you insist. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a patient to attend to.”
I followed him as far as the living-room gates, and glanced in. Betty and Nick were sitting on a rug, not together but near each other. Her body was turned toward him, supported by one straight arm. Nick’s face was pressed against his own raised knees.
Neither of them seemed to move, even to breathe. They looked like people lost in space, frozen forever in their separate poses, his of despair, hers of caring.
Dr. Smitheram went and sat down near them on the floor.
chapter
10
I drove inland by way of Anaheim. It was a bad time of day, and in places the traffic crawled like a wounded snake. It took me ninety minutes to get from Chalmers’s house to Rawlinson’s house in Pasadena.
I parked in front of the place and sat for a minute, letting the freeway tensions drip off my nerve ends. It was one of ablock of three-storied frame houses. They were ancient, as time went in California, ornamented with turn-of-the-century gables and cupolas.
Half a block further on, Locust Street came to an end at a black-and-white-striped barricade. Beyond it a deep wooded ravine opened. Twilight was overflowing the ravine, flooding the yards, soaking up into the thick yellow sky.
A light showed in Rawlinson’s house as the front door opened and closed. A woman crossed the veranda and came down the steps skipping a broken one.
I saw as she approached my car that she must have been close to sixty. She moved with the confidence of a much younger woman. Her eyes were bright black behind her glasses. Her skin was dark, perhaps with a tincture of Indian or Negro blood. She wore a staid gray dress and a multicolored Mexican apron.
“Are you the gentleman who wants to see Mr. Rawlinson?”
“Yes. I’m Archer.”
“I’m Mrs. Shepherd. He’s just sitting down to dinner and he won’t mind if you join him. He likes to
His wife moved toward me, and drew me to one side. Her eyes were dull and unsurprised, as if she’d been hit by something that she’d seen coming from a long way off.
“Dr. Smitheram wants to take Nick to his clinic. What do you think we should do?”
“I agree with Mr. Truttwell. Your son needs legal security as well as medical.”
“Why?” she said bluntly.
“He killed a man last night, he says, and he’s been talking about it quite freely.”
I paused to let the fact sink in. She handled it almost as if she’d been expecting it. “Who is the man?”
“Sidney Harrow is his name. He was involved in the theft of your Florentine box. So was Nick, apparently.”
“Nick was?”
“I’m afraid so. With all these things on his mind, I don’t think you should put him in any kind of clinic or hospital. Hospitals are always full of leaks, as Truttwell says. Couldn’t you keep him at home?”
“Who would watch him?”
“You and your husband.”
She glanced at her husband, appraisingly. “Maybe. I don’t know if Larry is up to it. It doesn’t show but he’s terribly emotional, especially where Nick is concerned.” She moved closer, letting me feel the influence of her body. “Would you, Mr. Archer?”
“Would I what?”
“Stand watch over Nick tonight?”
“No.” The word came out hard and definite.
“We’re paying your salary, you know.”
“And I’ve been earning it. But I’m not a psychiatric nurse.”
“I’m sorry I asked you.”
There was a sting in her words. She turned her back on me and moved away. I decided I’d better get out of town before she had me fired. I went and told John Truttwell where I was going and why.
Truttwell’s argument with the doctor had cooled down. Heintroduced me to Smitheram, who gave me a soft handclasp and a hard look. There was a troubled intelligence in his eyes.
I said: “I’d like to ask you some questions about Nick.”
“This isn’t the time or the place.”
“I realize that, doctor. I’ll see you at your office tomorrow.”
“If you insist. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a patient to attend to.”
I followed him as far as the living-room gates, and glanced in. Betty and Nick were sitting on a rug, not together but near each other. Her body was turned toward him, supported by one straight arm. Nick’s face was pressed against his own raised knees.
Neither of them seemed to move, even to breathe. They looked like people lost in space, frozen forever in their separate poses, his of despair, hers of caring.
Dr. Smitheram went and sat down near them on the floor.
chapter
10
I drove inland by way of Anaheim. It was a bad time of day, and in places the traffic crawled like a wounded snake. It took me ninety minutes to get from Chalmers’s house to Rawlinson’s house in Pasadena.
I parked in front of the place and sat for a minute, letting the freeway tensions drip off my nerve ends. It was one of ablock of three-storied frame houses. They were ancient, as time went in California, ornamented with turn-of-the-century gables and cupolas.
Half a block further on, Locust Street came to an end at a black-and-white-striped barricade. Beyond it a deep wooded ravine opened. Twilight was overflowing the ravine, flooding the yards, soaking up into the thick yellow sky.
A light showed in Rawlinson’s house as the front door opened and closed. A woman crossed the veranda and came down the steps skipping a broken one.
I saw as she approached my car that she must have been close to sixty. She moved with the confidence of a much younger woman. Her eyes were bright black behind her glasses. Her skin was dark, perhaps with a tincture of Indian or Negro blood. She wore a staid gray dress and a multicolored Mexican apron.
“Are you the gentleman who wants to see Mr. Rawlinson?”
“Yes. I’m Archer.”
“I’m Mrs. Shepherd. He’s just sitting down to dinner and he won’t mind if you join him. He likes to
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