The Cat Saw Murder by Dolores Hitchens

Author:Dolores Hitchens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penzler Publishers
Published: 2021-04-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven:

HUMAN HANDS, DETACHABLE

MISS RACHEL refrained from giving the lieutenant an outright scolding. She did, in the later course of the afternoon, point out to him the inopportuneness of his entrance into the tool shop.

The lieutenant carried a frustrated expression even so late as the next morning, when he went early to police headquarters. The police of Breakers Beach occupy a wing of the new City Hall, A.D. 1938 and as modern as possible. Edson stepped suddenly from the office of the chief of police and Mayhew almost ran into him. He put out a big hand but Edson ducked. He has seen Mayhew’s way with obstacles.

“Screwy nut,” said Edson crossly.

Mayhew’s face changed and Edson saw that it was wise to explain himself. “Guy in the chief’s office. Drunk all night and wound up sometime this morning on the beach. Some kind of nightmare down there. If somebody doesn’t get him out of there the chief’s going to kill him.”

Mayhew slowed his step. “What does he think he saw?”

“The guy? Oh, he thinks he was lyin’ there half asleep and a guy down under the sand reached up and tried to grab him.” Edson grinned at the remembrance of the drunk’s misery. “You should have seen the chief when he heard it. McGarvey, at the desk this morning, thought there might be something in it and waltzed him in. If he doesn’t get demoted for it I’ll eat my hat.”

Mayhew showed interest in the account. Some inner sense—Mayhew simply calls it smelling a rat—makes him feel the significance of things that don’t fit. “Guess I’ll have a look,” he said and went in to meet the raging eyes of his superior.

Opposite him, on the other side of his broad polished desk, cowered a slight young man in gaudy clothes, much rumpled and very soiled. Above a purple tie his face was sick. “ ’Tain’t no use sayin’ I didn’t see ’im. I saw ’im, all right.” He swung bloodshot eyes toward Mayhew and waggled his head in a slow rhythm. “ ’E was in the sand, ’e was.” With rabbit teeth he nibbled his lower lip. “Don’t tell me ’e wasn’t. I saw ’im.”

The chief beat on the desk and roared, “Get out! Get out—damn you! How many times do I have to tell you? McGarvey! McGarVEY! Oh, Lord. Mayhew, why’d I want this damned job, anyhow? Look at this bird—as drunk as a fool, and sassier. If McGarvey sends me in another delirium tremens I’ll have his badge, and damned if I don’t. What did you want?”

Mayhew nodded his head in the direction of the drunken young man. “I want him,” he said briefly. “Come along with me, man.”

They went into the cubbyhole that Mayhew calls his office. The young man huddled himself quickly into a chair again and sat hunched as if he were cold, with his hands hugged down between his knees. His voice was running down like a phonograph that needs winding. “I saw ’im. Really saw ’im,” he whispered and closed his eyes.

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