One Good Deed(107)

“I wish him luck and that he gets to serve during peacetime. We don’t need any more wars.”

“Amen to that, brother.”

They clinked glasses.

“I checked on you. You got no family left. Never married.”

“That’s right.”

“Never found the right gal?” asked Shaw.

“I used to think that. No more.”

“What changed?”

“Well, since I got here, I think maybe for all the ladies I met along the way, I wasn’t the right man for them.”

“That’s pretty enlightened of you, Archer. But you must’ve wanted to settle down at some point.”

“Can’t say yay or nay on that. I grew up in a small slice of a big city and decided to see the country for a bit and then went on to college. Then they bombed Pearl Harbor, and I did my bit and came back. And took up my wandering ways again. Then Carderock Prison became my new home for a while. Hell, I’m not all that shy of thirty and part of me feels like I haven’t started to even live my life yet.”

“Maybe your day is coming.”

Archer nodded, but he didn’t really believe this was a viable possibility. He was thinking if he managed to survive Poca City, it would be a miracle.

Shaw said, “Now, why do you reckon they would go to Marjorie’s house? What would they need from her? And why would she give them anything anyway? Is it just about money? People are that crass, you know. They’ll kill for ten cents if they think it’s worth it to them. And it’s not a damn dime we’re talking about here.”

“But Jackie thought her father was going to be in town to meet with her. That was the whole point. So how did he end up dead at his place?”

“Maybe she called him after he recorded what he did on that machine and changed the plan. They could have arranged to meet him out there.” Archer did not seem convinced by this. In fact, he felt even more troubled.

Shaw unwrapped another sandwich. “Now, you said something woke you the morning you found Pittleman’s body. What was that?”

Archer thought back. “Loud noise or bang.”

“Like maybe someone hit your door?”

“Yeah.”

“Now, if I’m reading this right, whoever killed Pittleman was the one to bang on your door to get you up from your bed. Then they waited to hear you coming down the hall and they opened the door a crack to Number 615, and maybe went and hid in Number 617. You see, the plan was they wanted you to find the body and get your prints on that doorknob.”

“I guess that could be.” Archer smacked his forehead and pulled the small framed photo out of his pocket. “Hell, I forgot about this. There’s Lucas Tuttle and Malcolm Draper together.”

Shaw looked stunned. “But he worked for Pittleman, not Tuttle.”

“Well, Marjorie said that Draper only came to work for them about a year ago.”

“Hold on, wasn’t that about the time Jackie left home?”

“Yes, it sure was.”

Shaw squinted as he thought about this. “And Draper would go out to the slaughterhouse most nights, the clerk said. And then you told me they couldn’t make payroll.”

“That’s right.”

Shaw smiled in a self-satisfied way.

“What?” asked Archer sharply.

“I know this will sound like a long shot, but I was a pilot and you were infantry, Archer, so all we knew were long shots that paid off every night we went to bed still breathing.” He paused. “What if Draper was a plant of Tuttle’s?”

“A plant? How so?”

“Man gets Draper in there to do his bidding and mess up Pittleman’s little empire. Draper might’ve been going out to the slaughterhouse to mess with the books, so to speak. Maybe skimming money off, things like that. And maybe that wasn’t the only business of Pittleman’s he was doing that to.”

“You think?”

“Remember the past-due bills I found in the trash can behind the hotel? What if Draper took them from the office and tossed those in there? Thing is, the man was sort of Pittleman’s business manager. He lived at the Derby Hotel. He could have had access to that office anytime he wanted. Hell, maybe Pittleman thinks the man is paying those bills, but instead he’s tossing them. Wouldn’t take long for Pittleman’s businesses to be run into the ground and him not even know it before it was too late. And on top of that Pittleman had his own gambling problem.”

Now Archer looked stunned as he recalled something Sid Duckett had told him. “Hold on. When I talked to Sid Duckett about what would happen to Pittleman’s businesses since he was dead, the man said that Lucas Tuttle might buy them up, ’cause he had the money.”

“But how would Duckett know that Tuttle had the money to do that? Everyone thought he had financial problems, including his own daughter.”

“He would if Draper told him.”

Shaw took all this in. “And the night we talked to Duckett at his cottage, and you mentioned payroll not being met at the slaughterhouse?”

“You think Duckett put two and two together and confronted Draper about what he thought was going on?”

Shaw nodded. “Maybe even tried to blackmail him over it. He could have threatened to tell the law what was going on unless they paid him off. And then he ends up fed to the hogs for his troubles.”