Like A Hole In The Head

     I left the bungalow and headed for the shooting gallery. I had an idea I would find Lepski there. I was right. As I approached, he appeared in the doorway of the lean-to.

     His cold quizzing eyes met mine.

"Hi ! I was going to put in an alarm about you."

I forced myself to meet the probing stare.

"Alarm? What do you mean?"

"I found this place deserted. I thought something was wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. What brings you here, Mr. Lepski?"

     "I was passing. I promised Mrs. Benson a recipe for a chutney my old lady used to make. Where is she?"

     I was sure he had been in the house, had seen the preparations for the meal and had sniffed around as only a trained cop can sniff around.

     "I've just seen her off. A friend of hers is ill. We had a panic call."

     "That's tough." He shook his head. "When I got here and looked around it was like another Marie Celeste."

     "Another . . . who?"

     He looked a little smug.

     "The ship that was found deserted: meals on the table . . . no one aboard. I'm a Reader's Digest subscriber. They tell you stuff like that. When I got here, found the front door open, the table laid for a meal, the meal on the stove, no sign of life . . . it got me bothered."

     "Yeah, we had this panic call. We dropped everything and ran."

     "A friend of your wife's?"

     "That's right."

     He eyed me.

     "Who won?"

I gaped at him.

"Come again."

"What was the fight about?"

I had forgotten my bruises and the cut under my eye.

     "Oh, nothing. I got into an argument. I guess I flip my lid from time to time."

     "Some argument." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from me. "Your telephone isn't working." His eyes swivelled back to me.

     "It isn't?" I began to fumble for a cigarette, then changed my mind. That sort of move tells a cop he's making you nervous. "One minute it works, the next it doesn't. You know how it is when you're as far out as we are."

     "The line's been cut."

     The back of my throat was turning dry.

     "Cut? I don't understand that."

     "It's been cut."

     "Some kid . . . Kids around here are hell. I'll get it fixed. I had no idea."

     "Do you usually walk out of your home leaving the front door open?"

     I was getting fazed with these questions. I decided it was time to stop him.

     "If it doesn't worry me, why should it worry you?"

     Lepski's face hardened. He became all cop.

     "Folk who are that careless make a lot of work for the police. I'm asking you : do you usually walk out of your house and leave the door open?"

     "I guess so. We're miles from anyone. We often sleep with the door open."

     He regarded me, his eyes bleak.

     "And the kids around here are hell?"

     I didn't say anything.

     "When I got here and found no one," he went on after a long pause, "I looked around. Did Mrs. Benson take her things with her? I looked in the closets . . . that's routine, Mr. Benson. Seemed to me nothing is missing."

     "I appreciate your interest," I said, "but you don't have to worry. This was a panic call. We didn't have much time. My wife took all she wanted for a few days."

     He stroked his nose while he continued to look at me.

     "Why isn't your pupil shooting?"

     The sudden shift of ground had me fazed.

     "Pupil?"

     "The rich guy you are teaching who is taking up all your time."

     "Oh . . . him." My mind worked quickly. "He quit yesterday."

     "Is that right? What was his trouble? Another sick friend?"

     "No trouble. He just got bored."

     "Is that Weston & Lees rifle in the gun rack his?"

     "Yes." I was beginning to sweat and this annoyed me. "I'm sending it back to him."

     "Why didn't he take it with him?"

     I had to stop this.

     "Do you care, Mr. Lepski?"

     He grinned.

     "I guess not." The grin went away. "This six hundred milimetre sight and silencer . . . Who is the planning to assassinate? The President?"

     I had left the sight and silencer in the box. He must have been hunting around in earnest to have found them.

     Somehow I forced a laugh.

     "He's gadget-minded. You know these guys with more money than sense. Every gun gadget he sees he has to have."

     "Yeah." Lepski nodded. "So now you have free time? No pupil . . . no wife. I've got free time tomorrow. How about me coming out here for a lesson?"

     That was the last thing I wanted.

     "Sorry, but I plan to join my wife. I'm shutting the school for a few days."

     "I don't seem to have any luck. Okay, we have a date on the 29th. Right?"

     "That's it. I haven't forgotten."

     He thought for a moment, then said, "That's a nice gun . . . the best. I'd like to own a gun like that."

     "Me too."

     His expression turned blank as he thought. I watched him, sure when he looked like that he was dangerous.

     "You mean he gave up taking lessons even when he had the telescopic sight?"

     "He got bored."

     Lepski scratched the side of his face.

     "Isn't money a wonderful thing? I'd liked to be bored." He took off his straw hat and fanned himself with it. "It's goddam hot, isn't it?" Before I could agree that it was hot, he went on, "So you're joining your wife. Where is she?" This was shot at me, quick and hard like a boxer's jab.

     By now, I was very alert.

     "Not all that far. Well, Mr. Lepski, I have things to do. See you on the 29th."