The Picture Ranch 70

Moose was still outside, waiting by the auto. I tried to get him to go home. He shook his head like a dog shooing a fly.

'Got business with those people.'

'What people?' Miss G beat me to the question.

'The ones that make the magazines. The ones that… do stuff.'

'We don't even know who they are. Or if we'll find them,' I said.

'You'll find 'em. I'll stop 'em.'

Miss G let out a sigh, I shrugged and told Moose he could ride in back this time.

I took the driver's seat and asked, 'Where to?'

'Guess all roads lead to Encino.'

'It seems they do,' I said and I floored the gas pedal, but with Moose in back we didn't fly down the road.

I asked Miss Gräfenberg where the Hispano-Suiza was and she said I didn't need to know.

'What about those papers? In the bag?' I looked at her sideways.

'Just drive,' she said. We were passing The Encino Store, when I pulled over and killed the motor, about six feet short of the fire hydrant, since it wasn't my jalopy. Henry was standing in the doorway, looking like an extra for a hospital scene. The place was still a mess, I could see that even with Henry blocking most of the entrance.

'Danged telephone ain't stopped since I got back, 'zif I ain't got enough ta do.'

'Didja take a message?' I figured he might have taken one, maybe two.

'Hell, no. Message was short and it wasn't for you.' Henry started to cough.

'What did they say?' Eleanor had lit a cigarette, without offering the pack to me or Moose.

'It was just a name,' Henry said.

'Where were you earlier? The cops get hold of you?' I moved prison-shiv close to Henry, who didn't take a step backwards, like I'd thought he might.

'On business.'

I looked over at Moose and Miss G, 'He hasn't taken a day off in five years, as far as I know. Who the hell was in the ambulance, I'd like to know.'

Henry looked down at the ground, 'Yeah, well, it wuz pri-vit.'

I had hold of the old man by the shirt front, when he told me he'd been to the hospital to get some bad news. I said it couldn't be as bad as the news someone delivered to the woman who'd left the scene in the blood wagon. Henry tore my hands from his shirt and said,

'That would depend on whether the lady dies or not, 'cause I ain’t got no business makin’ holiday plans, according to the doc.'