The Best American Mystery Stories 2005

The woman clearly did not believe this. “What is your name, please?”

“For God’s sake,” Duggan said, “have I got to get references to meet somebody for dinner in a place of public refreshment? What difference does it make, who I am? I told you who she is. Is she here? I’m not trying to cash a bum check or anything.”

The woman’s face grew stern. “I’m merely trying to help you, sir,” she said. “There are several ladies sitting alone tonight. I don’t know any of their names. If you would give me your name, I could inquire whether any of them is waiting for you.”

Duggan sighed. “I got a better idea,” he said. “Lemme look around,” He brushed past the woman and turned to his right, walking up a slight incline into another rosily lighted room. It was lined with small booths on the right and larger booths on the left. There was one person in the room. That was Edith Washburn. She was seated at one of the small booths. She was drinking a glass of white wine. Duggan caught her eye as he walked down the narrow corridor between the small booths and the large booths. She smiled, wanly. He gestured with his head toward the large booth across from her. She looked quizzical. He grinned. When he reached her, he said: “I don’t like these tables. When they put me in one of them, I feel like I’m a dog getting into one of those pet carriers the airlines use. Move.”

Edith Washburn got up swiftly and crossed the aisle. They sat down simultaneously at one of the large booths. She grinned at him.

“Hard day?” he said.

“An absolute bitch of a day,” she said. “Yours?”

“I could use a drink,” he said. “Do they have any waitresses left tonight that aren’t candidates for autopsies?”

“I saw one a while ago that seemed to be breathing,” she said. “I can’t be sure, though. Didn’t take her pulse.”

“OK?” Duggan said. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled piercingly.

“Good heavens,” Edie said. She started to laugh. “You mustn’t have any trouble getting cabs.”

“Or birds, neither,” Duggan said. “Called in a penguin once, from Antarctica. Walked all the way, poor little critter. Took him to the zoo.”

An alarmed and elderly woman appeared at the door leading into the room. Duggan waved her toward them, using the traffic cop’s signal.

“How did he like the zoo?” Edie said.

“Wonderful,” Duggan said. “We had such a good time, next day I took him to the ball game. Sox lost.”

The waitress reached their table. “Just two of you for dinner?” she said.

“That’s a quorum, ma’am,” Duggan said. “But first I would like about a pail of vodka martinis. Put some ice in it.”

“Vodka martini on the rocks,” the waitress said. She wrote it down. “But if you’re not expecting anyone else, I’ll have to ask you to take one of the smaller tables.”

“Go to it,” Duggan said. “Ask away, we’re not going to move. There’s room enough in this joint tonight for the Second Armored Division. When they show up and the place gets crowded, we will meekly move. Until that happens, I would like my drink and enough space to sit comfortably.”

“We do have rules, sir,” the waitress said.

“I do have a nasty disposition, begging your pardon and all, ma’am,” Duggan said. “I am not moving. My drink, please, and the menus.”

The waitress hobbled away. Duggan leaned toward Edie. “Tell you what,” he said, “you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

She began to laugh again. “You were mean to that woman.”

“OK,” Duggan said, “I show mine first. My guy will not plead out. I think he should. If I had a reasonable client, we could belt this thing out on a second-degree in a minute. He is not reasonable.” “He confessed,” she said.

“He made a statement,” Duggan said. “I have read that statement, which you so kindly provided to me.”

“He had his rights read to him,” she said.

“Yup,” Duggan said. “Signed a document to prove it. Said he’d been to the tidal creek. Said he knew Thomas Monaghan. Said he knew Monaghan was dead. Said he believed Monaghan’d gotten shot by somebody.”

“Oh, come on, Jack,” she said. “He led the cops to the scene.”

“Right,” Duggan said. “Now you are going to tell me that the cops didn’t know there was a tidal creek there until he told them about it.”

“No,” she said.

“No,” Duggan said. “And probably the cops didn’t know about Monaghan being dead until they pulled him out of the water, all green and swollen, and he wasn’t breathing very much. You are going to tell me that.”

“No,” she said.

“Edie,” Duggan said, “it was in all the papers. Frederick Ellis, my esteemed client, is dumber’n some rocks that I have met. But he can read. He can listen to the wireless and he can watch the television. Everybody who ever laid eyes on Monaghan knew he wasn’t getting around much anymore. This is not proof beyond a reasonable doubt that Frederick Ellis did him in.”