Hard Case Crime: Baby Moll by John Farris Read Free Book Online Page A

before, hasn’t it?” he said, taking her by the arm. “It does relax you. Wouldn’t you like to have a hot bath? I’ll wash your back for you.”
    “Ch-Charley...” she said unhappily, her head hanging. She allowed herself to be guided toward the door.
    “We’ll be seeing you in the morning, Mr. Mallory,” Rinke said pleasantly. Evelyn turned to me for a moment, and there was a glitter of anguish in her eyes, of a plea that had been ignored often. She tugged with her arm and he let her go quickly, followed her into the hall.
    After a moment I shut the door and finished undressing, set the alarm for eight. It was ten after four then, but I wasn’t there to catch up on my sleep.

Chapter Eight
    I slept right through the alarm but a Puerto Rican house-boy shook me awake a few minutes later and got me out of the sack. He had to assist me in getting to the bathroom, then held me up under the shower until the feel of the water penetrated gritty layers of pain. I might have stayed under all day but he reminded me politely that Macy expected everyone to be at breakfast by eight-thirty. I shook my head gently to test the reliability of stiff muscles, and got out.
    My fingers had trouble holding the razor and my wrist was rubber as I shaved. I felt like death warmed over. Clean clothes and hot coffee thoughtfully provided by the houseboy helped some. I made the dining room at twenty of nine. The others were eating. Macy looked up from a plateful of eggs and threw introductions around carelessly. Then he went back to eating.
    I knew most of them. Only Rudy and Mrs. Rinke were absent. I took a vacant seat beside Rinke, looked at Diane more carefully. She was a tall lemon-haired blonde with a serene face every bit as beautiful as my quick look in the cigarette glow last night had suggested. She paid no attention to me. She was wearing shorts and some kind of pullover playshirt with elbow length split sleeves laced together and tied with little cord bows.
    Next to her was Aimee, a thin, undersized little Cuban girl with straight black hair and a flat nose. Aimee andMacy did most of the talking, back and forth across the table. Macy was in good spirits. He took great delight in learning everything the child had done the day before.
    Aimee would twist her head from side to side and smile big but vaguely and answer in a few halting words. Her attention was easily distracted. Diane had to coax her patiently to eat.
    “We gonna go boat riding ’safternoon, Daddy?” Aimee asked Macy, lifting a napkin to wipe away milk from the corner of her mouth. I noticed a wide glossy scar on her arm.
    “Well, I don’t know, dear,” Macy said, with a slight frown. He looked better this morning, in a bright yellow sport shirt, his hair carefully combed and face shaved. He looked more like the old confident, angle-wise Macy. “You know I don’t care for boats...”
    Aimee stuck with it. “I haven’t been boat riding all week.” There was a trace of her ancestry in her speech.
    “Diane can take you,” Macy said, cutting up a piece of steak.
    “But I want to go with you,” Aimee said pathetically.
    Macy reached across the table and patted her hand. “I know, baby. Well — ” He scratched his jaw. “Maybe tomorrow. Daddy has to work today.”
    One of the servants brought me orange juice and a platter of steak and eggs. Rinke had said nothing to me when I sat down, only nodded, but when he was through eating he turned and asked, “How are you this morning, Mr. Mallory?”
    “I’m hanging on.” I remarked on the absence of his wife.
    “Evelyn’s not feeling well this morning. Her back isgiving her some pain.” He turned his glum face away abruptly, put a cup of coffee to it. “Evelyn has a problem with her nerves,” he said, sipping slowly. “She suffers a great deal. We’ve been unable to find anything that might help her.” He put the cup down and straightened his glasses precisely. “I wanted to be sure you understood