A Hard Rain Part 17

That look had stopped him cold. "You mean because you are a woman, you can naturally fool men and lie to them?"

"What do you think?" she had asked, smiling at him in the way that told him he was being played like a fine violin. Sometimes he enjoyed it, at that moment he hadn't been so sure.

"I'm going down to make sure everyone knows what they are supposed to do."

"Not a good idea," Bev had said, hopping off the corner of the desk. "I'll do it, you stay here. We can't have Bell see you walking around when you are supposed to be dying, now can we?"

Dix had agreed with her. She had been right.

"Stay put," she had said and headed out the door.

When the door closed he had moved behind his desk and taken out his gun, making sure it was loaded and ready to use. Then he had put it on the desktop and sat down. For the first time since the Heart of the Adjuster had been taken, he had a moment alone to think.

And now that was what he was doing.

Thinking, feeling the time tick away like blood draining from a wounded man.

As Mr. Data and Bev had suggested earlier, once he got a moment to review everything, he started back at the beginning, working through how this had gotten started, running over the different things that had happened, checking details, looking for any clue as to who might have taken the Heart.

Anything he might have missed.

He didn't see anything.

He had taken a great deal of precious time going through the crime bosses, making sure that a common thief on the street hadn't taken the Heart and sold it to them. It had been a logical a.s.sumption, especially considering what had happened to Redblock and the nature of crime in this city.

But now that the bosses were eliminated, he reviewed the two remaining suspects.

Arnie Andrews, the husband of murdered actress Marci Andrews, had had a reason to be climbing those stairs at about the time the Adjuster was sitting unguarded. But was he the type to see the gold ball and instantly want to take it? That was going to be a question he had to find an answer to quickly.

Then there was Detective Bell. Bell had bent laws and done favors in most of the ten cases Dix had worked, so Dix knew he was no innocent. But Bell was also a friend. Dix had had a standing invite to go home with Bell and meet his wife and kids and have dinner. Would Bell take something from a friend?

And most important, Bell knew that Dix was looking for the Heart. He might not know how important it was, but he knew Dix thought it important. And if he had taken it, he might have found a way to give it back by now.

But he might not have, either.

Dix was going to have to tread lightly when talking to his old friend. If Bell hadn't taken the Heart, then that just left Arnie Andrews. And with Mr. Data searching Andrews' apartment, that lead was being run down at the same time.

There were clicking footsteps on the stairs and in the hallway and a moment later Bev came back in, brushing the rain off her coat. "Everyone is in place and will come up behind Detective Bell. Once he's in the building, he won't be getting out."

She moved over to the window and glanced out through the rain. "He just pulled up."

"Okay," Dix said, "stand off to one side. This is between me and Bell."

Bev nodded, closed the door, and then moved over to a spot near the window where she leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. Dix remained seated behind his desk, pretending he had been doing just standard paperwork.

The heavy footsteps echoed through the building as Bell ran up the stairs and through the outer office. He opened the inner office door and then froze, rain dripping from his coat and hat.

"Thanks for coming," Dix said. "Come on in and close the door. Have a seat."

"What is this?" Bell demanded, staring at Dix sitting obviously unhurt behind his desk. "People coming back from the dead before they die now?"

"I need to ask you some blunt questions, and I didn't have time to go find you," Dix said.

"Yeah, so," Bell said, "you knew where I was."

Dix shook his head. "No, I needed you here. And it had to be fast. We are all almost out of time."

"So you told her to lie to me?" Bell asked, clearly angry, motioning at Bev. "What kind of friend would do that to another friend?"

"The same kind of friend that would ask you if you took the Heart of the Adjuster I've been looking for."

Now Bell looked really stunned.

"Sit for a minute," Dix said, before Bell could say anything more, "and let me explain why I would even ask that question. And why I had to lie to get you here."

Bell stared at Dix, then with a glance at Bev, pushed the door closed and sat in the chair facing Dix's desk. He brushed water off his coat and then took his hat off and shook it at the floor.

"Take a look at this," Dix said, sliding his appointment book toward the detective, flipping it over so Bell could read it. "The Adjuster with the gold-looking Heart was sitting at the top of the stairs out in the hall, unguarded for about five minutes, somewhere between 4:45 and 5:15. That was when it was taken."

Bell studied the appointment book, then nodded and slid it back at Bell.

"I know you're a basically honest man," Dix said. "Your name does not appear anywhere in either Redblock's ledger or Slippery Stan Hand's records."

"That's good to hear," Bell said, clearly still angry, "since I wouldn't take a thin dime from either of those two slimeb.a.l.l.s." He flipped his still wet hat onto Dix's desk.

Dix ignored Bell and his actions and anger and went on.

"I don't know how to tell you how important that little-ball is to the continued existence of this entire city. You're just going to have to believe me that if we don't find it in the next ninety minutes, we will all die. You, me, your wife. Everyone."

"Ninety minutes?" Bell said, waving away Dix's statement like it was a bug flying in front of his face. "Ah, come on, quit pullin' my leg. This is getting old."

"I am not kidding," Dix said, staring at his friend. "I wish I were."

Bell stared right back at Dix. Then after a moment Bell said, "You're not kidding, are you?"

"No."

"You said this had something to do with the strange weather and this night that will never end?"

"It does," Dix said.

"And with me and the others coming back alive?"

Dix nodded.

Bell took a deep breath and sat back. "All right, I can see why you had to ask when you saw this appointment book. You had to talk to everyone who might have come up the stairs at the point the thing was taken, right?"

Dix nodded.

"Makes sense, friendship or no friendship. I'd have done the same thing."

"Exactly," Dix said.

"Still a cheap trick, telling me you were hurt."

"It got you here," Dix said, smiling. He was glad that he had managed to get through Bell's anger to the smart detective mind in there. He was going to need Bell's help.

"Okay, I'll tell you this," Bell said. "I didn't take the gold ball. In fact, this entire day and long night have been so crazy, I forgot you were goin' to have dinner with us. I haven't been home, or had a good meal in so long, I have almost forgotten what my wife looks like."

He paused and thought for a moment. Dix didn't interrupt. Bev also stayed silent, hands crossed over her chest, just watching and waiting.

Finally Bell said, "I honestly have no idea where I was right at the time I was supposed to be here, since time and this night have gone totally bonkers. More than likely I was trying to keep somebody from shooting somebody else, or doing paperwork on somebody."

He looked directly into Dix's eyes and kept talking. "So I didn't come up those stairs to even see the thing you're looking for. To be honest with you, I wish I had. I might have stopped whoever took it, and we'd be eating dinner with my wife and smoking cigars on the steps."

Dix stared at his friend for the longest time, then nodded. "Good enough for me. Sorry to have to trick you to get you over here."

"Had me scared to death," Bell said, laughing. "So who's the other name on that list? It rings a bell, but I'm so tired I can't place it right off."

"Husband of Marci Andrews, the murdered actress."

Bell snapped his fingers. "That's right. You were working that case. Seems like a long time ago now."

"That it does," Dix admitted.

"So I can tell you," Bell said, "that you are going to need my help shaking him down."

"I don't think so," Dix said. "I have Mr. Data and a few others searching his apartment. If they don't find the Heart, they're going to bring Andrews here."

Bell laughed and took his hat from Dix's desk. "That's going to be some trick."

Dix looked at Bell. "Why?"

"The cops working the Marci Andrews murder arrested Arnie Andrews about ten minutes before I got shot in that doorway." Bell said. "He's sitting in a holding cell downtown right now. Been there all night."

Section Two: Sweat Drips Just Like Blood Dix had Bev wait in his office with instructions to call him at once when Mr. Data returned, then headed out into the heavy rain with Detective Bell. The water pounded at him, closing in the already closed-in world around him, making him feel as if he were fighting against everything, simply trying to get to the car.

Even though Dix had sworn he would never ride with Bell again, this time Bell's speed didn't bother him. They needed all the speed they could find as each second ticked them closer to the end.

Four minutes later they were brushing the water off their coats and hats and heading into the interrogation room at police headquarters.

Bell had used Dix's phone to call ahead and have Arnie Andrews put in the interrogation room. Dix had sat in that room, in that hot seat, on his first case, the one he called "The Big Good-bye." It hadn't been fun after a short time.

If he and Bell had anything to do with it, the seat wasn't going to be fun for Arnie Andrews either. They were going to have to work fast. They didn't have the time to slowly sweat anything out of this guy.

Bell went in first and nodded for the guard to leave. Dix closed the door behind him.

Arnie Andrews was seated under the hot light, his hands cuffed behind his back. His hair was short and cut to fashion, his clothes looked expensive, and he was already starting to sweat.

Dix studied him, trying to look for any weakness. Andrews had the chin of an actor and the blue eyes to go along with the chin. Dix had talked to him once before, when he first had started on the case of Marci Andrews' murder. He had thought Arnie was a slimeball then, and seeing him sitting under the hot light, hands cuffed, didn't change that opinion in the slightest.

Bell had said on the way downtown that if he remembered right, they had found the gun that had killed Marci in Andrews' car, tucked under the back seat. Had her blood on it. That had been enough to get him arrested.

"So, Andrews," Bell said, taking off his coat and then his jacket and slinging them over the back of a nearby chair. "Comfortable?"

"No," Andrews said, pulling against the handcuffs.

Dix took off his coat and jacket as well and laid them on another chair, then loosened his tie.

"You're going to have to be more talkative than that," Bell said, walking around Andrews like a cat stalking a wounded and trapped bird, "if you want to get out of here anytime soon."

"I told the other cops earlier, I didn't kill Marci," Andrews said.

Bell laughed. "And I suppose you don't know how the gun got in your car either?"

"I don't, I swear," Andrews said, twisting to follow Bell as he moved around and around him. "I don't own a gun, don't even like guns, even when they're props on stage. You can ask anyone. Honest."

Bell nodded, patting Andrews on the cheek just a little-too hard. "Now talking was easy, wasn't it? Big long sentences. I like that, and you keep me happy, you'll get out of here faster."

Andrews nodded real quick, his head bobbing like a lovesick puppy wanting to please a master. Dix almost expected his tongue to hang out as well.

"Okay, look," Dix said, moving up and smiling at Andrews. "How about we start with some easy stuff, then work backward. That work for you?"

"Start anywhere you want," Andrews said. "I don't care. I still didn't kill my wife. I loved her."

"Sure you did," Dix said.

"Well," Bell said, "you convince us of that and we'll drive you home. All right with you?"

Andrews nodded.

"Start with the last twenty-four hours," Dix said. "What did you do yesterday after you got out of bed?"

"Breakfast at the deli, then I went down to the theater," Andrews said. "Just like I do every morning. I'm working on the new play that starts there in two weeks."

"So how long did you stay at the theater?" Bell asked. "And can people vouch for you?"

"Sure," Andrews said. "I was onstage most of the time, rehearsing. I stayed until about four-thirty, then headed to your office, Hill."

He almost spat Dix's name.

"What did you see there?" Dix asked, his stomach twisting at how long this was taking. Every minute seemed to stretch, yet flash past. There just weren't that many minutes left.

"Not you," Andrews said, "that's for sure. I got there about twenty-till-five, waited around a few minutes and then got disgusted that you'd stood me up, so I left. I don't know why you wanted to talk to me in the first place."

"No one was there?" Dix asked. "This is important to convince us you are telling the truth. Was there anything strange-looking in the hallway?"

"Nothing but some stray cat," Andrews said. "Why?"