Nemesis

“Just got a few questions to ask him,” Meyers said. He glanced from the judge to Sergeant Erlangen inquiringly. The judge said, “This is Sergeant Erlangen of Homicide. Meyers, we won’t need you on this matter. I’ve already talked to the Commissioner and—”

“That’s all right,” Meyers said. He waved a hand negligently. “I’m not going to be in the way. The boss sent me down here though, so you see my position, judge. I’ve got to earn my salary.”

The judge stood still for a moment, then made a tiny gesture of impatience. “Very well. Come along.”

Larry followed the judge up the gangplank. Behind him were the two detectives. The judge paused briefly on the deck, then walked along a narrow companionway and pulled open the door of the cabin. An oblong of light fell across the corridor.

They went inside.

Tonelli was seated at a desk, his back to one wall of the cabin. There were bunks against the opposite wall. A passage way led to a small galley. The furniture was polished mahogany, the fittings were neat and luxurious.

Tonelli came half way to his feet. He looked from the judge to Larry and the two detectives. Then he sank back slowly in his chair. He wore a white shirt and blue jacket and his features gradually assumed an expression of amiable surprise.

He began to strip the cellophane from a thin cigar with slow, deliberate motions.

“An honor,” he murmured. “I wasn’t expecting company, but—,” he waved a hand carelessly, “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks you,” the judge said. “I’m Judge Mills. Two of these men with me are police officers, the other—,”

Tonelli smiled at Larry and said, “I know the other guy, judge. He sees things. He lives in a private little world of his own, don’t he?”

“We’re here to ask the questions,” the judge said.

Tonelli leaned back in his chair and busied himself lighting his cigar. His smooth cheeks and deliberate, unhurried attitude gave an impression of complete assurance. But his eyes were watchful.

“So? Ask your questions.” He blew smoke at the ceiling and smiled carelessly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Meyers drifted over to a stool and sat down. He put his hands around one knee and leaned back. His square gray face was impassive. He let ash from his cigarette dribble down his vest and he kept his eyes on the floor. He looked bored.

Sergeant Erlangen stepped back into the shadows. The judge faced Tonelli over the desk. Larry stood at his right.

“We’re here about a murder,” the judge said. “The murder of a girl named Velma Dare. She was stabbed to death yesterday morning. She left your place with this gentleman here the night before. What do you know about it?”

Tonelli yawned. “Sorry I can’t act impressed, judge. I heard all this crap before. This guy,” he jerked a thumb at Larry, “was playing the same record to me yesterday. Not about the murder part, but he claims he met the girl in my joint. The bartender never saw him, nobody saw him, but—,”

Meyers coughed apologetically. “Were you going to say nobody saw him, but a dice girl named Corinne?”

“I was like hell. Nobody by that name ever worked for me. That was another part of his story.”

“A girl called Corinne got herself killed last night,” Meyers said conversationally. “Did you know that?”

“No.” He looked sharply at Meyers. “That’s news to me.” There was a band of sweat starting on his forehead. “So she got killed,” he snapped. “Lots of girls get killed. Read the papers. It happens all the time.”

The judge said, “I didn’t know about this.” There was ice in the look he gave Tonelli. “You’re lying, Tonelli. We can prove, I think, that you knew Velma Dare.”

There was a change in Tonelli’s expression. He actually looked puzzled. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I guess you can at that. But it won’t do you any good.”

Meyers said, “Can I say a word, judge?” Without waiting for an answer he went on, talking in a musing, thoughtful voice. “I got to earn that salary of mine, that’s all. Now I thought a lot about this case. A guy tells me he woke up with a dead girl in bed with him. We believe him. But there ain’t no body. We look everywhere and we can’t find a body. So we figure the guy is batty. And then the guy goes back to where he met the girl. The Kicking Horse. And nobody there knows him. They don’t remember seeing him, or the girl, or anything. They’re so blind, all of a sudden, they should get seeing eye dogs.”

He looked at Tonelli and then at the judge. The judge shrugged impatiently. “My line of inquiry was getting better results,” he said drily.