I glanced into the dining room, where the five suitcases were no longer stacked up. "It was in those bags that were in there when I was here earlier, right?"

"No. The cash was in trash bags in our storage area in the basement of this building. Now it's in the suitcases and on its way back to the people it belongs to. I just returned from the Air Freight office a few minutes ago."

Air Freight. I briefly considered a grand heist but figured pantywaist Timmy would consider armed robbery going too far. I said, "Why?"

She lit a cigarette and stuck it up under her overbite. She was wearing a Yucatecan huapili white shift with fancy blue and green embroidery and she was barefooted. Her toenails were cracked and painted fuchsia. She said, "My son took something that didn't belong to him. He was killed because of it. I don't want anyone else to be hurt-you, or your friend-or Gail, or me. Or Corrine. Poor Corrine, she's so unsophisticated and innocent, and who knows what people might suspect. No, it's not worth it.

What Jack wanted to do-what you want to do with the money-I admire it.

Truly, I do. When Jack first told me about it, I had to laugh. I admit it, I laughed." Her eyes brightened at the thought of it, then went gray again.

"But you cannot- cannot — get away with something like that. Not when the people you are dealing with are savages."

"And who are these savages?"

"I think you must know."

"No."

She looked at me carefully and said, "Dope pushers. Surely in your line of work you must have heard the type of people they are."

"Which dope pushers?"

"The ones Jack was arrested with. Robert Milius and- I've forgotten the names of the others. Jake something, I think."

"They're still in prison, aren't they?"

"But they have friends on the outside. People who were protecting the money for them until their release. Jack somehow got hold of the money and came up with this crazy pipe dream of his. And they found out he had taken it."

"Precisely who was keeping the money in what place, and how did Jack manage to take possession of it?"

She coughed out some smoke and said, "Oh, I wouldn't know that. Jack never went into the details. He just said they could never prove he'd taken it, and he had all these alibis worked out, he said, and-I just don't know all the details."

"And you urged him to return the money?"

"Of course I did. Anyone who sees the six-o'clock news knows that you simply cannot cheat people of that type and expect to get away with it."

"Jack must have watched the six-o'clock news too, and he had firsthand knowledge of dealers and their ways as well. Why didn't he listen to you?"

A wan smile. "I'm his mother. When your mother offers you advice, do you accept it for what it's worth, or do you just think, oh, crazy old Ma, there she goes again?"

"My mother hasn't offered me advice for a number of years. She's a little confused about my life and how to approach it. Gail told me Ned Bowman had been here. I'm sure he had some motherly advice. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want Jacks name brought up again in connection with drugs. I'm thinking of Corrine, and of Jack's memory. I told Officer Bowman I knew nothing. He didn't take it well, but that's his problem."

"He knows about Al Piatek. He'll learn soon enough that Piatek had no money to speak of and couldn't have left Jack the two and a half million in Piatek's will. He'll lean on you and on Kyle Toot, and possibly Gail. He won't let up. I think you should tell him everything you told me. Tomorrow, I mean-tell him tomorrow. Don't you want Jack's killer punished?"

A look of profound sadness settled across her face. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I do. So much, I do. But maybe that isn't possible without ruining other people's lives. Good lives that people have made out of-of nothing at all."

"I don't follow. Whose lives?"

She said nothing, just stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette in an ashtray full of half-smoked butts.

I said, "Who did you ship the money to? Not Milius, if he's in prison. How did you know who to send it to? Jack didn't provide details, you said. Have these 'friends' of Milius been in touch? How did they know you even had the money? Back in Albany word is going around that I've got it. Mrs.

Lenihan, you're not making sense."

She looked away and thought hard about something. She said, "I can't tell you any more. I'm sorry, but I can't." She faced me again. "The important thing is Jack is dead, and nothing anyone says or does is going to change that. So forget the money, Mr. Strachey. Just go on as you did before. I've written a check that should cover your trip out here, but that's as far as I'm able to help you. I'm still paying off a loan I took out to underwrite Jack's legal fees when he was arrested. I have eight more years to go on that loan and I only hope I live that long, because Gail has agreed to inherit my debts as well as my meager assets.

"Gail has been-except for Jack and Corrine, Gail has been everything to me. I met her three days after I arrived in California eighteen years ago next Sunday, and in many respects that was the day my real life began. I told Jack I would do almost anything to keep that life from falling apart and-if he had only known-" Her face trembled and she looked away, suddenly slapping the side of her head as if she had misbehaved and was striking out at herself in anger and confusion.

I said, "I won't bother you anymore. But if you would just tell me who-"

She shook her head once vehemently.

"I know you don't deserve any of this," I said. "You've obviously paid heavily in advance for your life here. I hope it lasts a long time."

"It will," she said, in tears. "I've been happy-a happy person. I never used to believe there was such a thing. And Jack was-he was happy for me."

Stevenson, Richard

Stevenson, Richard — [Donald Strachey Mystery 03] — Ice Blues

She wept.

Timmy and Kyle Toot were sitting on the motel-room floor stapling raffle tickets and discussing my character flaws.

"Pack your shopping bag. We've got to get back to Albany fast."

"Now? I thought we could find a good Mexican restaurant, see some sights, and then sack out for twelve hours. Come on, we've earned it."

I described my visit with Joan Lenihan. "I've got to see who picks up the five suitcases that were in Joan's dining room. They were a kind of maroon plastic with a black band around them. I'll stake out the Albany Air Freight office tomorrow, and when somebody shows and claims those bags I'll be back in the ball game."

"Doesn't Air Freight deliver a lot of its arriving cargo by truck? It's not like shipping by bus, where you have to pick up your own packages."

"Crap. That's right. Do we know anybody at Air Freight in Albany?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, I'll find somebody. I've got to make a couple of phone calls, and then let's get going."

The two of them sat there clutching their staplers and looking irritated. "I thought you two might like to see some LA gay nightlife," Toot said. "It's Friday night in West Hollywood. You can see some of your favorite TV

Stevenson, Richard

Stevenson, Richard — [Donald Strachey Mystery 03] — Ice Blues stars with their hair down. Down around their ankles in some cases. For instance, Bonkie Dimpleton of Undertaker Uggams usually shows up at the Compost Heap around two in the morning with his slave Raoul, who wears a T-shirt with a picture of the Colombian flag on the front made out of sewn-on dia-monds. Do you want to miss out on that?"