The staked Goat

”Not to mention the insult you imply toward my wife’s attraction level.”
    I looked up at Jacquie. She was a little unsteady. Drinks or drugs. A little slip by the careful lady?
    ”Anyway, there’s nothin’ you can do about it. I just talked to old Curl. He got into Boston and took a cab to your place. He used the keys you had to open your apartment—he said you don’t have near enough security devices on your premises, by the by. He dropped off your suitcase and unpacked your stuff. He said he didn’t have to mess up your covers none. Says you live like a slob. He opened your mail and put it on your desk.” Ricker chuckled. ”He even ripped up your junkmail and tossed it in the wastebasket. That Curl, he’s a caution. I told ya, he don’t miss a trick.” Ricker pulled a .38-caliber revolver from behind his back. He dug into his jacket pocket and took out a silencer. He screwed the three-inch muffler into place, then leveled the weapon at me.
    ”Take off the tape, honey.”
    She moved behind me, her hips rippling under the jeans. She peeled back the tape a little less gently and steadily than before. I puckered and bit on my lips to work the sting away.
    ”Well,” prompted Ricker.
    I just stared at him.
    He arched an eyebrow. ”Y’all gonna talk or what?” I eyed Jacquie. ”Maybe I’m just saving my tongue for your bride.”
    Jacquie stiffened a bit, as though only her husband could talk about her that way. Ricker just laughed, a low, throaty laugh.
    ”Lootenant, you’re a better sport than I thought. You’re tryin’ to make me mad, so’s I’ll do something stupid.” He shook his head, still smiling. ”Good tactics, but what with you all trussed up like that, kinda bad strategy.”
    I smiled back. ”Did old Curl happen to mention whether he played back my tape?”
    ”Tape?” said Ricker and immediately cursed, then laughed again. ”You’da made a good boxer there, Lootenant. You had me alookin’ at your right hand, and then caught me with your left.” He made a tsk-tsk sound, then said, ”Nope, old Curl never did mention any tape, and I shouldn’t have let you know that, should I? Well,” he paused for effect as he cocked the revolver and aimed it more specifically at my face, ”maybe you’d best tell me about that tape.”
    I looked at the gun, then back up at him. ”I think I’d prefer the truth serum.”
    ”Five seconds,” said Ricker, not smiling.
    I waited three. ”I have a tape machine attached to my telephone. It records all my messages. I’ve been gone since Thursday, the twenty-fifth. If your boy went through my mail but not my messages, it’s going to be obvious to the police that I never got home.” Ricker closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. ”It was late when you got in, too late to call anybody back.”
    I shook my head, slowly. ”First, some of the people trying to reach me are clients who would want to be called back at any time. Second, some of the other people trying to reach me are, ah, romantic interests who I would want to call back at any time. Lastly, the machine shows a little red light when a call has been received. It goes out only when the tape is played back. When the cops eventually get to my place, they’ll see that red light, play back those old messages, and realize somebody tried to fake my return.” Ricker closed his eyes a little longer this time. ”Damn.” He snorted and slowly stood up. ”Well, I guess old Curl will have to do a little more visitin’ in Boston. Damned gadgetry.”
    Ricker looked down into my face. ”If there’s no machine attached to that telephone of yours, you’ll wish old Alexander G. Bell had never been bom.” He turned to Jacquie. ”Honey, I’m gonna have to catch Curl in his hotel before he gets too drunk to walk. I’m gonna...”
    Ricker noticed Jacquie was staring down at me, her breathing shallow and rapid. I didn’t think she was paying attention to him, and he didn’t either.
    He slapped her. A snappy, short whack like a carpenter driving a nail.
    She nearly tumbled off her heels. Her hand went up to her face. She rubbed her cheek with her knuckles. He now had her attention.
    ”Like I said, honey, I have to risk callin’ Curl from here to catch him.” He stuffed the revolver in her other hand. ”You keep a close eye on this trophy, now, you hear?”
    She nodded, her eyes downcast, and said, ”Yessir.” Ricker leaned over, pecked her on the cheek. He then scampered, no