If Dying Was All by Ron Goulart Read Free Book Online

Uncovered On San Obito Island Those Of Chicago Real Estate Heir.’”
    Hagopian nodded. “Booth Graither, son of Graither Enterprises. There he is bright and boyish, hugging Jackie McCleary.”
    “It’s Booth Graither sure enough.”
    “They found what was left of him in a cave on San Obito. Fire fighters. There was a small forest fire there on San Obito Island on the 16th. Somebody stumbled onto what was left of Booth. He’d been shot three times with a .32 revolver. No weapon located, but one of the slugs was still rattling around in his skull. From what survived of his effects and from his teeth they were able to identify him. He’d been listed as missing since 1964.”
    “The first story to positively identify him ran on September 19th,” said Easy. He studied the sheaf of clippings. “It says Booth Graither may have had a large amount of cash with him.”
    “Yeah, he was what they call an eccentric. An eternal college boy. He’s thirty-one in the picture there, looking twenty-one. He had a long record of wandering off. Borrowing cash from his father’s safes and taking a trip someplace. Maybe three months in Mexico, five weeks in Canada, couple months in Hawaii. Usually he’d come back with no trouble. If he stayed away too long his father would hire private detectives to track him down and bring him back. He usually never spent much of the dough.”
    “How much did he borrow? I don’t see a figure given.”
    “I came across the figure $100,000 someplace. And none of the serial numbers were on record.”
    Easy asked, “His father kept that much cash around?”
    “He’s a little eccentric himself,” explained Hagopian. “Eccentric and rich.”
    “According to the LA Times , the private detectives trailed him as far as Union Station in LA. They never found a trace of him after December of 1964.” Easy sat back in his chair. “The LA County Sheriff’s Office estimates he’s been dead approximately five years.”
    “We know he was alive in the summer of 1965.”
    Easy said, “What’s out on San Obito? Nothing, is there?”
    “San Obito was sort of a second-rate Catalina in the 1920’s and 30’s. Resort hotels, restaurants, a tennis club. All abandoned and closed up for years, not even a caretaker on the island. I think the courts are still in the process of deciding who exactly owns what’s left standing out there.”
    “What would Booth Graither have been doing on the island?”
    “Getting himself killed. It’s a nice secluded location.”
    “Booth Graither’s been dead for five years. Jackie McCleary’s probably been dead for five years,” said Easy. “I wonder if he died about the same time she disappeared off that yacht.”

VI
    T HE LARGE ACTRESS LEANED closer to Easy and repeated, “ Blow Job .”
    Easy said, “No, I haven’t read it.”
    Mona-Mona Harve bit into a pizza cracker and told him, “It’s a very significant book. It covers not only ecology, genocide, racial tension and youth in search of ideals but it comes to grips with the really biggest problem of our culture at the moment, suburban malaise. I’m sure you know all about that.”
    “No, I have a little place in Coldwater Canyon.” Easy turned his head briefly from the large golden-haired actress and again studied the hundred or so people crowded into TV Look’s penthouse offices.
    “What do you think of Blow Job as a title?”
    “Evocative.”
    Mona-Mona dipped her narrow tongue into her gibson and flicked the little white onion around for a second or two. “We’ll no doubt have to change it for the film. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, Mr. Easy, motion pictures are still dependent on the silent majority for their continued well-being. Blow Job is, as you say, evocative. Not to say honest. They’re thinking of retitling the film Confessions Of A Sensual Housewife. How’s that strike you?”
    “Not as evocative.”
    “Exactly.”
    A tired, five foot tall man in a double-breasted black blazer