The Picture Ranch 62

That somebody was Miss Gräfenberg. Alone. With her hair in a scarf and wearing round sunglasses, she looked like Garbo pretending not to be Garbo and failing. The automobile was as dusty as the road, the bright red dulled to the colour of dried blood.

Eleanor G was smoking, I wondered how the cigarette had stayed in her mouth with the Packard's top down. Maybe that's why they called it lipstick.

'I have seen you looking better, Mr Fisher.'

'Guess I've been better. Since I met you, not so much.'

Moose piped up, 'Could we put the ragtop up, Miss? We all had enough sun for one day, I reckon.'

The Caruso dame had either fainted again or she was playing possum.

'I'm not altogether sure you'll all fit in this roller skate. You boys do the lid, I need to finish this cigarette.'

She turned off the engine and leaned back in the seat, blowing smoke rings into the desert sky.

I had to lean across Miss G to fasten the roof-studs to the frame over the windshield. She blew one last ring in my face and threw the butt out the window, just past my left ear.

Moose helped Caruso into the back seat, she only screamed twice, and then once more when I got myself in alongside her. Moose sat in the front, his shaven head spoiling the streamlining of the canvas roof.

'Where to, Fisher?'

'Heck if I know. We could drop this dame off at the ranch. Or maybe outside the gate.'

Eleanor started up the Packard, 'Don't you think she needs a hospital?'

'Well, do ya, Mrs Caruso?'

She croaked out a 'no', before adding,

'It's Miss, just Miss.'

I didn't even have time to ask what Eleanor was doing driving around in the backlots of beyond before I fell asleep.

By the time we got back to the ranch-house, I was better acquainted with Miss Caruso than I'd ever wanted to be. Anyone who ever tried to make out in the rear of that car could have got a job with the circus. Miss G and I got out of the flivver. The big gate was open. I asked Moose to get the Caruso dame out and carry her through into the yard, he said he'd have to take the rag-top off first. I was carrying the gun that had stranded us out in the big nowhere, Miss Grafenburg had one of her apparently inexhaustible supply of pea-shooters in each hand. The big guy was carrying the slim brunette out in front, like a rolled carpet across both forearms.

'We'll let Moose go first." She said.

'Might mean we don't get shot, at that.' I replied.

Turned out nobody shot anybody. There were three corpses in the dirt. Miss Caruso let out a word ladies didn't generally use. So did I.