14
In those first silent seconds when no one moved and no one could find anything to say, Hayden offered silent thanks for the luck, coincidence, or good fortune that had finally paid off for his gamble and his persistence. He did not know what would happen now, but he felt a confidence that had not been there before, and he understood at once why Marion had been attracted to Corbin.
He seemed now to realize that Hayden presented no great threat and he let the gun swing down. He reached behind him to close the door, a big man, standing a good six feet two and weighing two-twenty or so, most of it bone and muscle. His blond hair was thick and worn fairly short, his mouth was wide, the jaw solidly shaped. His nose was a little off line, as though bent permanently in some football combat long ago, but the eyes were blue and well spaced and the tan gave him a look of strength and vitality. Waiting there in slacks, sport shirt, and flannel jacket, he had a puzzled look until Hayden spoke.
“Hello, Corbin.”
The big man did not do very well with the question. The eyes widened slowly and the mouth opened. For five seconds he simply stared and beneath the tan the muscles were suddenly slack. Then recovery came and he had himself in hand. The eyes wrinkled at the corners as a slow smile that had little warmth but was effective because of his white and even teeth took over.
“Corbin?” he said as though finding the word unfamiliar. “Un-unh. Cannon’s the name,” he added, a trace of southern accent coming through. “Ted Cannon.”
“Marion used to have a good picture of you,” Hayden said. “I saw it many times.”
“Marion?” The word was touched with wonderment. “Marion?” he said again, and then, as the message got through, acceptance came. “Oh, I see. And who the hell are you?”
“Her husband. I’m John Hayden.”
Corbin’s shoulders seemed to sag beneath the jacket as he took a labored breath. As though becoming aware of the gun in his hand, he tucked it somewhere inside his waistband. He seemed to be searching for words, but Flo, who had been taking all this with increasing annoyance, spoke first.
“What is this?” she demanded querulously. “If you’re going to have a conference take it outside, will you?”
Corbin looked at her curiously. He looked at Hayden.
“Who’s this?”
“I’ll tell you who I am,” Flo said and proceeded to do so.
Corbin’s smile came back, crooked now but tolerant. “So you’re picking up the pieces, hunh?”
“Who’s got a better right? Why don’t you two beat it and get off my back?”
“We will,” Hayden said, “if you’ll tell us about Adler.”
“Why should I?”
“I don’t know if the police know you’re cleaning out the place,” he added, “but we could ask them.”
She seemed about to argue but thought better of it. “All right.” She sat down, her tired face sullen. “What do you want to know?”
“You were Sam’s girl friend—”
“One of them.”
“So you must have some idea why he went North.”
“He said he had a deal on.”
“When did he first say so?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a month ago. I didn’t think much about it at first. He always had some kind of a deal cooking but nothing much ever happened.”
“When did he leave?”
“Saturday. He said he’d be back by the end of this week. He wouldn’t give any details. He said he was going to make a big score and when he collected we were going to Florida for a while.”
Hayden considered the statement and found it acceptable. It was the same line Adler had given to Doris Lamar, apparently with some success.
“He didn’t tell you how he was going to make that score?”
“No.”
He glanced at Corbin, who had been watching the woman, a sardonic expression working in his blue eyes.
“I guess you knew Adler.”
Corbin nodded. “I knew him.”
“And what happened to him?”
“There were a couple of paragraphs in the paper.”
“I think we have some talking to do.”
“About what?”
Hayden paused reflectively, his mind working smoothly. He was ready to accept Flo’s presence here for what it was, and he doubted if she could be of any help to him now. What happened here, or what she took from the apartment, was no concern of his.
“About why you’re here, what you expected to find. I have an idea about that and I can tell you about the deal Adler had in mind when he came to Connecticut.”
“What makes you think I’d be interested?”
“You’d better be.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“The police are looking for you and so are the insurance people; maybe even the FBI.” That the police were probably looking for him too was something that Corbin could not yet know, and Hayden continued with confidence: “All I have to do to prove it is pick up the telephone. I think my way is better. Is there a bar around where we can get a drink while I make a proposition?”
“I could use a drink, but we don’t have bars in this state,” Corbin said, “not the way you think of them. You can get a drink at most hotels and some restaurants. But you sit down, like in a cocktail lounge, and somebody mixes your drink, using a miniature bottle like you get in Pullman cars. Otherwise you get your own bottle at a State Store and drink it at home. Where are you staying?”
Hayden told him and Corbin said: “We’ve got to eat anyway and the food’s okay there. We’ll get our drink at the same place.... You through here?”
Hayden said that he was. He had come here like a man grabbing at straws in the hope of learning something that would help him. Now that he had found his man, he had no further interest in this apartment or the woman who called herself Flo. There was much he had to know about Corbin, but that, he felt, would come if he played his cards right.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve had enough of this.”
“Me too,” Corbin said and glanced at the woman. “Take it easy, doll.”
“Oh, sure.” The woman opened the suitcase and began to rearrange the things she had collected. “If it’s all right with you let’s forget we ever saw each other.” She turned her weary, disillusioned eyes to Hayden. “That goes for you too, Buster.”
When they had settled in a dimly lighted corner of the motel lounge with drinks before them, Corbin said: “How’s Marion? How long have you two been married?”
“Fourteen months,” Hayden said, “and right now she’s four months pregnant. That should give you some idea how she felt when we found out you were probably still alive.”
“Yeah.” Corbin lit a cigarette and frowned at it, his expression genuinely concerned. “I never thought it could happen. How did you find out? Adler?”
“You knew him. You had to know him, otherwise you wouldn’t have come to his place. What were you looking for?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’ve been away. I saw this piece in the paper. I thought I’d take a look at the apartment, just in case.”
“Maybe you were looking for these.”
Hayden took out the photographs he had originally taken from Adler’s wallet and spread them on the table. It seemed to him then that Corbin knew a lot about Adler, just as Adler must have known much about Corbin. How all this had come about was something he hoped to find out in time, but it could wait. He indicated the two pictures.
“He came to Marion with these. He asked for twenty thousand dollars.”
Corbin looked at the pictures, the frown still there, the concern still showing in the tanned face. “The miserable little bastard,” he said softly and then listened as Hayden explained why he had the enlargement made of the insignia on the coveralls, and how he had come finally to the filling station in Fairview.
“The fellow I talked with—”
“That was Joe Quinn.”
“—gave you a lot of protection. A real suspicious character.”
Corbin grunted softly. “The natives around here don’t always open up with Yankees, especially curious ones.... Who killed Adler?”
“Did you know he was coming to Connecticut to collect on what he knew?”
For the first time there was a moment of hesitancy in Corbin’s manner. His blue gaze, which until that instant had been direct, slid to the glass in his hand and he drained it before he replied.
“No.” He put the glass down. “The papers said he was stabbed.”
“In the back,” Hayden said, “with a kitchen knife.”
“The police haven’t made any arrests?”
“Not yet.”
“What do they think?”
“They think maybe I did it, maybe even Marion.”
“You mean they know about those pictures of me? How?”
“The Connecticut police found a Conti Street address for Adler. The Mobile people got right on it. They found the two prints and two negatives. They sent the snapshot of you up by plane and they were checking the fingerprints with Washington when I left.”
“What do you want with me?”
“I want you to come back.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
Apparently the thought had not occurred to Corbin. He looked at Hayden with one eye, and then with both. The grin that came to warp his mouth was tight and twisted.
“Why?”
“Because it’s going to be a lot easier that way.”
“For whom?”
“For everybody.” Hayden put his elbows on the table and leaned on them. When he continued, his tone was direct and forceful. “The police are probably looking for me too,” he said. “If you go back with me I can justify this trip. What difference can it make to you? If I found you, so will the police. It’s just a question of time, and believe me they’re looking for you. Somebody’s got to get a divorce and in a hurry. Marion’s worried about the baby and so am I.”
“I could get a divorce in this state in no time,” Corbin said. “Or Marion could duck down here and get it.”
“But there’s also a little matter of seventy-five thousand dollars in insurance.”
“Yeah,” Corbin said and this time the grin, while reluctant, was genuine. “But I didn’t get it. I had amnesia. Marion collected in good faith—”
“It has to be paid back.”
“I can’t help you much there.... How about you?”
“I can’t make it all at once.” Hayden digressed to explain how the money had been used and the benefit he derived from it. “I’ll have to pay it back—most of it anyway—but I’m willing to work something out with the insurance company if I can clear up the rest of this.”
Corbin shrugged and pushed his chair back. “I guess maybe you’ve got a point,” he said slowly in that faint southern accent. “I don’t want to see Marion hurt. I thought I was doing her a favor in the first place two years ago. I thought I had it made.... Let’s eat,” he said abruptly. “We’ll work something out.”