The Good Old Stuff by John D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page A

was getting pretty late in the day, and the sun was gone.”
    “Did he stay long the second time?”
    “I don’t know. I closed up when he was still there.”
    “Thanks a lot.”
    The little man twitched and beamed. “A pleasure, certainly.”
    They went back out to Darrigan’s car. When they got in Kathy said, “I feel a bit stupid, Gil.”
    “Don’t think I suspected that. It came out by accident. One of those things. It happens sometimes. And I should have done some better guessing. I found out this morning that when Temple Davisson wanted a piece of property he didn’t give up easily. He went back and tried again.”
    “And Mr. Drynfells didn’t mention it.”
    “A matter which I find very interesting. I’m dropping you back at the Aqua Azul and then I’m going to tackle Drynfells.”
    “Who found the little man who sells shells? You are not leaving me out.”
    “It may turn out to be unpleasant, Kathy.”
    “So be it. I want to see how much of that tough look of yours is a pose, Mr. Darrigan.”
    “Let me handle it.”
    “I shall be a mouse, entirely.”
    He waited for two cars to go by and made a wide U-turn, then turned right into Drynfells’s drive. The couple was out in back. Mrs. Drynfells was basking on her rubberized mattress, her eyes closed. She did not appear to have moved since the previous day. Myron Drynfells was over near the hedge having a bitter argument with a man who obviously belonged with the battered pickup parked in front.
    Drynfells was saying, “I just got damn good and tired of waiting for you to come around and finish the job.”
    The man, a husky youngster in work clothes, flushed with anger, said, “Okay, okay. Just pay me off, then, if that’s the way you feel. Fourteen hours’ labor plus the bags and the pipe.”
    Drynfells turned and saw Darrigan and Kathy. “Hello,” he said absently. “Be right back.” He walked into the back door of the end unit with the husky young man.
    Mrs. Drynfells opened her eyes. She looked speculatively at Kathy. “Allo,” she said. Darrigan introduced the two women. He had done enough work on jewelry theft to know that the emerald in Mrs. Drynfells’s ring was genuine. About three carats, he judged. A beauty.
    Drynfells came out across the lawn, scowling. He wore chartreuse slacks and a dark blue seersucker sport shirt with a chartreuse flower pattern.
    “Want anything done right,” he said, “you got to do it yourself. What’s on your mind, Mr. Darrigan?”
    “Just checking, Mr. Drynfells. I got the impression from the police that Mr. Davisson merely dropped you off here after you’d looked at the land. I didn’t know he’d come in with you.”
    “He’s a persistent guy. I couldn’t shake him off, could I, honey?”
    “Talking, talking,” Mrs. Drynfells said, with sunstruck sleepiness. “Too moch.”
    “He came in and yakked at me, and then when he left hetold me he could find better lots south of here. I told him to go right ahead.”
    “How long did he stay?”
    Drynfells shrugged. “Fifteen minutes, maybe.”
    “Did he wave big bills at you?”
    “Sure. Kid stuff. I had my price and he wouldn’t meet it. Waving money in my face wasn’t going to change my mind. No, sir.”
    “And that’s the last you saw of him?” Darrigan asked casually.
    “That’s right.”
    “Then why was his car parked out in front of here at dusk on Friday?”
    “In front of here?” Drynfells said, his eyes opening wide.
    “In front of here.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister. I wasn’t even here, then. I was in Clearwater on a business matter.”
    Mrs. Drynfells sat up and put her hand over her mouth. “Ai, I forget! He did come back. Still talking, talking. I send him away, that talking wan.”
    Drynfells stomped over to her and glared down at her. “Why did you forget that? Damn it, that might make us look bad.”
    “I do not theenk.”
    Drynfells turned to Darrigan with a shrug. “Rattle-headed,