Well Now My Pretty

"Why, yes." She forced a smile. "It's Chief of Police Terrell, isn't it?"

"Yeah . . . Mr. Whiteside in?"

"Yes. He came home early. He isn't very well . . . something he ate, but do come in."

She led him and Beigler into the living-room. Both the police officers were startled to see a small, white-haired clergyman sitting quietly in an armchair. Maisky got to his feet, his smile bright with welcome.

"This is Father Latimer from New Orleans," Sheila said. "He is staying with us. Father, this is Chief of Police Terrell and— and . . ." She looked at Beigler, flashing him a smile.

Some chick! Beigler thought as he introduced himself. He had trouble keeping his eyes from those long, slim legs.

"Yes . . . well, do sit down. I'll fetch Tom."

She left the room. Maisky shook hands with Terrell and then Beigler.

"I am happy to know you," he said. "This is my first visit to your beautiful City." His expression became solemn. "I had the unhappy task of laying Sheila's mother to rest."

Terrell moved uneasily and muttered something under his breath. There was a pause, then Torn came into the room with Sheila at his heels. He was white faced and sweating.

"Hello, Chief," he said. "You—you wanted me?"

"I hear you're not well," Terrell said, eyeing him. His certainly didn't look well.

"Something I ate . . . I'll be okay," Tom said. "Either of you two gentlemen care for a drink?"

"No, thanks . . . Mr. Whiteside, this Buick coupe you were driving . . ."

Maisky had sat down. He pressed his finger tips together and beamed at the others.

"Buick?" Tom said stupidly.

"Oh, Tom . . . we shouldn't have taken it!" Sheila exclaimed. She was now in control of herself. "You know, I said we shouldn't."

Tom gaped at her, then desperately trying to control his jumpy nerves, said hurriedly, "Yeah . . . that's right."

Terrell stared at him, then at Sheila, then back to Tom.

"Mr. Whiteside, we have reason to believe the car belonged to one of the Casino robbers. Suppose you tell me how you came to be driving it?"

Sheila caught her breath dramatically and clapped her hands. Watching her, Maisky hoped she wasn't going to overplay her act.

"So that's why it was hidden!" she exclaimed. "Tom! And we took it! We hadn't an idea!" She turned to Terrell, her big eyes wide. "Of course . . . that explains it, and there we were thinking it belonged to some hunter . . ."

Terrell regarded her.

"Suppose you start this from the beginning," he said.

"Of course. Please sit down." She dropped into an easy chair, letting Beigler get a glimpse of her thighs as she adjusted her skirt. "We were coming back from a camping vacation. It was late. Tom decided to take a short cut from the Miami highway, down the dirt road through the woods, to the Paradise City highway. I'm sure you must know it . . ." She broke off, seeing Terrell was still standing. She was determined to dominate the interview, and smiling, she pointed to a chair. "Do please sit down, Chief. You look so tall, standing like that."

Terrell lowered his bulk into the chair while Beigler, notebook in hand, leaned up against the wall. Tom sat on an upright chair, behind Sheila.

"This is all news to me," Maisky burbled. "I have only just arrived. Has there been a robbery, then?"

"Excuse me," Terrell said curtly. "I want to hear what Mrs. Whiteside has to say."

"I'm sorry . . . of course . . . excuse me." Maisky beamed, settling himself back in his chair. "This is all very interesting."

Well, at least, I have got it away from that numbskull, Sheila was thinking, and I've got to keep away from him.

"Yes," she said, leaning forward and staring with round eyes at Terrell. "So we took this dirt road and then our car broke down. It was the oil pump, wasn't it, Tom?" She looked over her shoulder. "You said it was the oil pump?"

Tom jerked his head.

"That's right."

"Well, there we were . . . right in the middle of the forest . . . stuck, and it was growing dark." She crossed her legs for Beigler's benefit. May as well give this flatfoot something to concentrate on, she thought. Beigler, who never missed anything like that, thought she was sensational . . . and those legs! "We decided to sleep the night there. In the morning as we were getting ready to walk . . ." She paused to make a comic gesture. "Imagine walking five miles! I found this car." She regarded Terrell to see how he was accepting her story. No good flashing her sex at him. He was one of the square, safely married fossils.

"When you found the car, Mrs. Whiteside, didn't you think you should have reported it to the police?" Terrell said.

She laughed.