Goodbye California - Alistair [36]
‘Is that so?’ Triumph overcame the throbbing nerve. He dug into a pocket and produced a piece of paper which he flourished at Ryder. ‘I’ll touch anything I like in this house. Know what that is?’
‘Sure. A search warrant with LeWinter’s name on it.’
‘It’s a warrant, Mister.’
Ryder took the warrant. ‘Law says I’ve the right to read it. Or didn’t you know?’ Ryder glanced at it for all of a second. ‘Judge LeWinter it is. Your poker-playing pal at City Hall. Next only to yourself the most corrupt official in town, the only judge in town who would issue you with a warrant on a trumped-up charge.’ He looked at the four seated people. ‘Now please watch the reactions of this upholder of public morality, especially his complexion. Jeff, would you have any idea what this trumped-up charge might be?’
‘Well, now.’ Jeff thought. ‘A trumped-up charge of theft, I’d think. A stolen driving licence? A missing police radio? Or something really ridiculous, like harbouring a set of binoculars with an LAPD stamp.’
Observe the complexion,’ Ryder said. ‘An interesting clinical study. Violet with overtones of purple. I’ll bet a good psychologist could make something of that. A guilt complex, perhaps?’
‘I’ve got it,’ Jeff said happily. ‘He’s come to search the place for evidence stolen from the scene of the crime.’
Ryder studied the warrant. ‘I don’t know how you do it.’
Donahure snatched the warrant back. ‘Too damn right. And when I do find it –’
‘Find what? That’s why it’s a put-up job – you’ve no idea what you’re looking for. You haven’t even been out to San Ruffino.’
I know what I’m looking for.’ He marched off to an adjacent bedroom then halted as he became aware that Ryder was following him. He turned. ‘I don’t need you, Ryder.’
‘I know. But my wife does.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s got some pretty nice jewellery in there.’
Donahure balled his fists, looked at Ryder’s eyes, changed his mind and stalked – if a hippopotamus could ever be said to stalk – into the bedroom, Ryder at his heels.
He started with a dressing-table drawer, rifled through a pile of blouses, left them in an untidy heap, slammed the drawer shut, moved to the next drawer and repeated his cry of pain as Ryder found the ulnar nerve again. In the living-room Parker rolled up his eyes, rose, picked up his own glass and that of Jablonsky and headed purposefully for the bar.
Ryder said: ‘I don’t like untidy people. Especially, I don’t want filthy fingers touching my wife’s clothing. I’ll go through her clothing and you can watch. As I’ve no idea what the hell you’re looking for I can’t very well hide it, can I?’ Ryder made a meticulous search of his wife’s clothing, then allowed Donahure to take over.
Jeff brought a drink into the kitchen. Kramer, leaning against the sink with his arms folded, looked glum and unhappy. Jeff said: ‘You look like a man who could do with a morale booster. Gin. Donahure is loaded up with bourbon. Never smell it.’ Kramer took the drink gratefully. ‘What are you supposed to be doing?’
‘Thanks. You can see what I’m doing. I’m searching the kitchen.’
‘Found anything yet?’
‘I will when I start looking. Pots and pans, plates and saucers, knives and forks – all sorts of things.’ He gulped some of his drink. ‘Don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to be looking for. Damned sorry about this, Jeff. What can I do?’
‘Just what you’re doing. Nothing. Inactivity becomes you. Any idea what our fat friend is looking for?’
‘No. You?’
‘No.’
‘Your father?’
‘It’s possible. If he knows he hasn’t told me. Not that he’s had a chance to.’
‘Must be something important. Something that makes Donahure pretty close to desperate.’
‘How come?’
‘Sergeant Ryder is how come. Or maybe you don’t know the reputation of the bogeyman?’
‘Ah.’
‘Yes. Takes a desperate man to provoke your old man.’
‘Like a man playing for high stakes. Well, now. You interest me.’
‘I interest myself.’
‘Looking for incriminating evidence, perhaps.’
‘Incriminating whom, I wonder?’
‘I wonder.