C Is for Corpse

county in northern New Mexico where three of the warrants had been issued. While he was waiting for a response to that inquiry, he contacted the county sheriff in some little town up near San Francisco, trying to get confirmation on a no-bail warrant that originated in Marin. The charge on the fifth warrant in Boise, Idaho, turned out to be a misdemeanor and the fraud detective said he couldn't afford to come get her in any event. The sixth warrant, in Twin Falls, had been recalled for reasons unspecified. So far, Lila Sams was home free.
    At 3:20, Marin County finally returned Whiteside's call, confirming the no-bail warrant and indicating that they'd have someone pick her up once they knew she was actually in custody. Their cooperation was largely due to the fact that one of their deputies was vacationing in Santa Teresa anyway and had agreed to accompany her back to Marin. Whiteside said as soon as a telexed "copy of the warrant came through, he'd send the beat officer over to make the arrest. He didn't really have to have the warrant in hand, but I think he d sensed by now that she was slippery. I gave him Moza's address, my address, and a thorough description of Lila Sams.
    It was 3:40 by the time I got home. Henry was sitting on a chaise in the backyard, surrounded by books. He looked up from his legal pad as I came around the corner.
    "Oh, it's you," he said. "I thought it might be Lila. She said she'd stop in and say good-bye before she took off."
    That caught me by surprise. "She's leaving?"
    "Well, she's not really 'leaving.' She's going to Las Cruces for a few days, but she hopes to be back by the end of the week. I guess a little problem came up on some property she owns and she has to get things squared away. It's a darn nuisance, but what can you do?"
    "She's not gone already, though, is she?"
    He checked his watch. "I can't imagine she would be. Her plane takes off about five. She said she had to go to the title company and then she'd toss a few things in a suitcase. Did you want to talk to her?"
    I shook my head, unable to say yet what needed to be said. I could see that he was mapping out a new crossword puzzle, jotting down preliminary notes. At the top of the page, he'd written two titles, "Elementary, Dear Watson!" and "Home Sweet Holmes."
    He smiled shyly when he saw me take note. "This one's for the Sherlockeans in the crowd," he said. He set the legal pad aside, as though self-conscious at having someone watch him work. "Well, now, how are things with you?"
    He seemed so innocent, nothing more on his mind than his passion for words. How could she deceive a man like that?
    "Something's come up I think you ought to know about," I said. I unfolded the computer print-out and handed it to him.
    He looked down at it. "What's this?"
    Lila's name apparently caught his eye then, because his gaze settled on the page. His face lost animation as he assimilated the facts. When he finished reading, he gestured aimlessly. He was silent for a moment and then he glanced up at me. "Well. Makes me look like a fool, doesn't it?"
    "Come on, Henry. Don't talk like that. I don't think so at all. You took a risk and she brought you some happiness. Hey, so later it turns out she's a crook. That's not your fault."
    He stared at the paper like a kid just learning to sound out words. "What made you check into it?"
    I thought there might be a tactful explanation, but nothing occurred to me. "I didn't like her much, to tell you the truth. I guess I felt protective, especially when you talked about doing business with her. I just didn't think she was on the level and it turns out she's not. You haven't given her any money, have you?"
    He folded the print-out. "I closed out one of my accounts this morning."
    "How much?"
    "Twenty thousand in cash," he said. "Lila said she'd deposit it to an escrow account at the title company. The bank manager urged me to reconsider, but I thought he was simply being conservative. I see now, he was not." His manner had become very formal and it nearly broke my heart.
    "I'm going down to Moza's to see if I can intercept her before she takes off. You want to come?"
    He shook his head, his eyes bright. I turned on my heel and moved off at a quick clip.
    I trotted the half-block to Moza's. A taxicab was cruising at half speed, the driver scanning house numbers. The two of us reached Moza's at just about the same time. He pulled over to the curb. I crossed to the passenger side, peering into the