True-Life Adventure

unsmiling. I started out slow: “I heard the Koehlers’ case reports were stolen too.”
    “Now how’d you hear that?”
    “But I presume the Koehlers filled you in on what they said.”
    “How come you’re so concerned all of a sudden? You coulda filled me in your own sweet self.”
    “Did they tell you that both Mike Brissette and Peter Tillman were ex-lovers of Lindsay Hearne?”
    “What’s it to you, Mcdonald?”
    God, he was making it hard. “Did you talk to either of them before they died?”
    “What do you think, you son of a bitch? If I didn’t, whose fault was it?”
    “Look, Howard— I should have given you the damn file, okay? I’m sorry, okay? What do I have to do, send you a dozen roses? Look, I’m here because I think I know how to find Lindsay Hearne. That’s one reason. Another reason is, I think three murders might have been committed instead of one. I think I might have mentioned to you that somebody tried to kill me once. Last night he burned my house down, which I took to mean he was trying again. But that’s not a reason why I’m here, because you told me you didn’t give a shit about it. However, if somebody’s killed three people and tried to kill me, maybe he’ll kill somebody else and I thought you might give a shit about that. So that’s another reason I’m here.”
    “You lost your house, huh?”
    I nodded, thinking he might say something sympathetic, like “tough break.” He didn’t. He yawned. “So how do I find the Hearne broad?”
    “Don’t you care what was in the case reports? Can’t you see I’m trying to tell you, asshole?”
    “Well, now, that surprises me, Mcdonald. I thought you had some sort of confidentiality agreement with your client. I thought I was supposed to get that information from Koehler.”
    He was really rubbing my nose in it. Well, hell. At least I’d called him asshole and he’d only called me son of a bitch. But he was still a few insults ahead of me. I decided to take this opportunity to even the score.
    “Howard,” I said, “you are an unmitigated scumbag; an unparalleled douchebag; a double-dog, triple-crown asshole of heroic proportions. You have the brains of a nematode; your face looks like a potato; and if you are married, your wife must be a…”
    He was getting redder and redder. Now he doubled up his fist.
    “…saint,” I finished.
    “Huh?” he said. He was so surprised he lost his rhythm completely. He caught on right away that he couldn’t hit me for calling his wife a saint, but by the time he realized he had ample provocation on his own account, he was worn out from all that thinking and didn’t have the strength. He just sat there and looked confused.
    “I think I’ll be going,” I said, and got out of my chair.
    “Sit your butt down, Mcdonald.”
    I complied.
    “Now, to the best of your recollection, what was in those reports?”
    “I thought you didn’t need to know, Howard. I thought Koehler told you.” It just popped out. Too late I realized we were getting right back on the same merry-go-round. So I took corrective steps. “Look, let’s be reasonable. I’ll trade you what I know for what you know.”
    “Mcdonald, are you crazy? I already know what was in the goddam reports.”
    “You need confirmation and you know it.”
    “Yeah, and you’re going to give it to me. There never was any question of that and you know it.”
    “Tell me something, Howard— was there digitalis mixed in with Jack’s saccharine, like I said?”
    “What’s that got to do with the price of persimmons?”
    “Well, I was kind of wondering, you know, if a digitalis tablet really looks like a saccharine pill— I mean, wouldn’t they make them a different size so you wouldn’t mistake one for another?”
    “Now how many people put them in the same bottle, jerkoff?”
    “So Jack’s were in the same bottle.”
    “You ain’t as smart as you think you are, Mcdonald. But you ain’t wrong all the time.”
    “Fine. Now about those reports—”
    “You mean that’s what you wanted to know?”
    “Part of it. As I recall, Koehler gave Birnbaum four names to check out— Joan Hearne, Susanna Flores, and Mr. and Mrs. Timothy A. Hearne.”
    “Only four?”
    “Oh, yeah. I forgot. Five. Sardis Kincannon was on the list, but Jack never got around to her. She was on vacation at the time in, uh—”
    “Maui. Well, Maui and Honolulu. She stayed with some friends on Oahu for a few days.”
    Good. Very good. I