Bright Orange for the Shroud by John D MacDonald

Author:John D MacDonald
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780307826671
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2013-01-09T08:00:00+00:00

Eleven

It was a little after nine in the morning when I tied up the Ratfink as before in the little marina. I went over into town in the green sedan, ordered drugstore coffee, and, as it was cooling, shut myself in the phone booth and called Crane Watts’ office number.

He answered directly, sounding remarkably crisp and impressive and reliable. “Crane Watts speaking.”

“Watts, this Boo Waxwell. How about you give me that number for Cal Stebber in Tampa. Caint lay my han on it.”

“Now I don’t know as I’m authorized to …”

“Lawyer boy, I git it fast, or in five minutes I’m right there, whippin yo foolish ass down to the bone.”

“Well … hold the line a moment, Waxwell.”

I had a pencil ready. I took down the number he gave me, 613–1878.

“Address?” I asked.

“All I’ve ever had is a box number.”

“Nev mind. Lawyer boy, I plain don’t like the way you give that McGee the whole story.”

“Don’t you think you made that plain enough last night, Waxwell? I told you then and I’m telling you now, that I didn’t tell him half the things he claims I told him.”

“Too dog drunk to know what you told him.”

“I’m doing my level best to get a line on him, and as soon as I learn anything useful, I’ll get in touch with you. But I don’t know why you’re upset about it. It was a perfectly legal business arrangement. Another thing, Waxwell, I don’t want you ever coming to my house again, like last night. You upset my wife, the way you acted. See me here if you have to see me at all, but I’m telling you now, I’m no more anxious to have any future association with you than you are with me. Is that quite clear?”

“Think I’ll come by anyways and bounce you some.”

“Now wait a minute!”

“Talk sweet to ol’ Boo.”

“Well … maybe I did sound a little irritable. But you see, Viv knew nothing about … that business arrangement. You said too much in front of her. She cross-examined me half the night before I could get her quieted down. And she still isn’t satisfied. I’d just rather you wouldn’t come to the house again. Okay?”

“I swear, lawyer boy, I never will. Never again. Less something comes up all of a sudden.”

“Please, just listen to reas …”

I hung up, sweating lightly, and went back to my coffee. Boone Waxwell had wasted very little time getting to the only man who might know anything about me. And had charged that man with digging up information. Watts could get my Bahia Mar box number from the club records. That wouldn’t be much help. But there was a new factor. Waxwell did not seem like a patient man. Perhaps no later than this afternoon he would be phoning Watts to find out what he’d learned. And he would be very intrigued to know it was his second call of the day, and interested to know that he had asked for Stebber’s unlisted number earlier.

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