A Gambling Man (Archer #2)(96)

“I know you slept with him last night, Wilma. And I know he was alive when you left him. But what I need to know is who put you up to it? Because whoever did might want to clean up loose ends. If you get my meaning.”

The door slowly opened and she stood there in a thick white cotton bathrobe that went all the way to her bare feet. Her face was makeup free, her hair was a mess, and Archer thought she was more beautiful now than she had been last night.

“Come in,” she said curtly.

He sat in a chair while she perched across from him. Archer saw an ashtray full of smoked cigarettes and a pitcher of something that was nearly empty.

“You okay?” he said. “You don’t look so good.”

“No, I’m not okay. And what the hell do you mean you knew Sheen and I—”

“I saw you go into the room together. And I listen well at keyholes.”

“You son of a bitch. You rotten little sneak . . . ” She grabbed the pitcher to throw it at him, but he was too quick for the woman and snatched it away from her.

He set it down out of her reach and said, “Calm down, Wilma. It’s my job. Sheen is dead. We need to figure this out. You have a vested interest in doing so. I know you know that.”

She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “What I know is that this is a godawful nightmare for me.”

“It wasn’t so good for Sheen, either.”

She blew her nose into the hanky. “You want a drink?”

“No, I’m good. And it’s a little early for me.”

“Well, mix me a martini minus the olives and then think of a way out of this hell.”

He fixed the drink, handed it to her, and sat back down. “Tell me about last night.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Who told you to sleep with Sheen?”

“How do you know anyone did?”

“Come on, Wilma, I’m trying to help you. I know you didn’t want to be with the guy. Someone put you up to it. Who?”

She looked at him in misery. “I don’t know, Archer. I really don’t know who it was.” In her agitation she finished off the martini, rose, and padded around the room, lighting a Camel she plucked from the bowl.

“How can you not know?”

She pivoted to stare dead at him. “I’m not a whore, Archer.”

“Wilma, no one’s saying that you are, least of all me.”

She sat down on the arm of the chair he was in. She took another puff of her Camel, tilted her head back, and drilled the ceiling with the smoke. “I . . . I got an unsigned note yesterday. It was in an envelope in my mailbox. It had a thousand bucks in it and a note that told me to sleep with Sheen last night at Midnight Moods. A thousand bucks, Archer! That’s more than I make in a year working for Kemper.”

“I think you’re underpaid, then. But why do it at all? Why not just keep the money?”

“Because the note also said that if I took the money and didn’t do it, well, that I would regret it.”

“So it was a threat, then?”

“Look, I didn’t want to do it, but I also didn’t want any trouble. And I didn’t know who to give the money back to. And if I left it out on the porch or in the mailbox, and somebody else swiped it, where would that leave me? With no money and somebody out there thinking I stiffed them.” She got up and started pacing again. “So . . . so I did it. I phoned and arranged to meet Wilson at Midnight Moods.”

“I saw you tackle him in the hall. I thought you were going to suffocate him with smooches.”

She put a shaky hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I did it . . . It made me sick.”

“I’m sure.”

She stopped and looked at him. “What you must think of me.”

“You did it for the money because you were caught between a rock and a hard place. A guy does it, he’s smart like a fox because he’s being paid to have fun. A woman does the same thing, and she’s judged for it. I never really got that myself. I’m not judging you, Wilma. I don’t have the right.”

She perched next to him again. “Where do they make guys like you, Archer? I’d like to buy a dozen.”

“Did the note tell you which room to go to last night?”

“Yes. They said it was empty, would be unlocked, and there’d be nobody to bother us.”

“Do you know that right next door is where Ruby Fraser was found?”

“Oh my God!” She gripped his arm. “Look, Archer, I swear that he was alive when I left him. He was asleep, sawing logs. I swear.”

“I know he was, Wilma.”

She looked relieved but then gazed at him suspiciously. “You gathered all that from listening at the keyhole?”

“I trained under some of the best keyhole listeners in the business.”

“So what do I do now?”

“I’d take you down to the police station where you could make a statement, only I don’t trust Chief Pickett.”

“Do you really think I’m in danger?”

“Yes. Whoever sent you the note used you to set up Sheen. But what I don’t get is how did they know he’d fall asleep? He might have left the room with you.”

Darling looked puzzled. “When we were going up to the room he was yawning.”