Chapter 11 long goodbye (11)

"You can get six hundred and fifty dollars," Wade said fiercely, "and you don't have to change it. How can this place cost so much?" "It's a drop in the bucket," said Wellinger. "I told you I've raised my rates." "You didn't say you got to the top of Weir Hill." "Don't put me off, Wade," replied Dr. Wellinger curtly. "You have no room for tricks. And you're giving away my secret." "I don't know what secrets you have." Dr. Wellinger patted the arm of the chair slowly and said, "You woke me up in the middle of the night. It was critical. You said you'd kill yourself if I didn't come. I don't want to go, and you know why. I'm not licensed in the state. I'm Trying to get this property off before nothing is left. I have Earl to take care of and he's about to have a fit. I told you it's going to cost a lot of money. You still insist and that's why I'm picking you up. I want five thousand dollars."

"I was so drunk," Wade said. "You can't haggle like that. You're getting paid too fucking much." "And," said Dr. Wellinger slowly, "you mentioned my name to your wife. You told her I would come for you." Wade looked surprised. "I didn't do that. I didn't even see her. She was asleep." "That was at another time. There's a private detective out here asking about you. He can't know where to look unless he's told. I sent him off, but he might come back. You've got to go back." Hello, Mr. Wade. But I want five thousand dollars first."

"You're not smart enough, doctor? Why should my wife go to the detective if she knew I was here? She could come herself--if she cared. She could bring our servant, Candy. Your blue boy is When it comes time to decide what movie to play today, Candy can chop him up." "You have a vicious mouth, Wade. A vicious mind." "Doctor, I still have a vicious five thousand dollars. Try to get it." "You write a check," said Dr. Wellinger firmly, "right now. Then you get dressed and Earl will take you home." "A check?" Wade almost laughed. "Sure, I'll give you a check. Good. How do you cash it?"

Dr. Wellinger smiled quietly. "You think you can suspend payments, Mr. Wade. You won't. I promise you won't." "You fat liar!" Wade yelled at him. Dr. Wellinger shook his head. "In some ways yes. But not quite. I'm a mixed personality like most people. Earl will drive you home." "No. That kid gives me goosebumps," Wade said. Dr. Wellinger stood up gently and reached out to pat the man on the bed on the shoulder. "Mr. Wade, I don't think Earl can hurt anyone. I have a lot of ways to control him." "Say one and listen," said a voice.Earl comes in through the door, dressed as Roy Rogers.Dr. Wellinger turned away with a smile.

"Don't let that psycho get close to me." Wade roared, showing fear for the first time. Earl kept his hands on his belt, expressionless.There was a slight whistling sound between the teeth.He walked slowly into the room. Dr. Wellinger said quickly, "You shouldn't say that." He turned to Earl. "Okay, Earl. I'll take care of Mr. Wade myself. I'll help him change while you drive over here, as close to the cabin as you can. Mr. Wade is very weak." "It's going to be weaker now," Earl said in a whistling voice. "Get out of the way, Fatty."

"Oh, Earl," the doctor reached out and grabbed the handsome boy's arm, "you don't want to go back to Camarino, do you? As long as I say a word--" Before he finished speaking, Earl pulled his arm away and flashed his right hand With the golden light waving up.The ringed fist hit Dr. Wellinger on the jaw with a crack.He fell as if he had been shot in the heart.The fall made the cabin shake.I ran. I got to the door and yanked it open.Earl turned around, leaned forward slightly, and stared at me without recognizing who it was.He made a grunt sound and rushed towards me quickly.

I drew my gun and waved it at him.He feels nothing.His own gun may not have been loaded, or he may have completely forgotten about the dual guns.All it takes is a knuckle ring.He moves on. I shot at the open window at one end of the bunk.The gunshots echoed eerily in the room.Earl stopped suddenly, turned his head, looked at the bullet hole in the screen window, and then looked back at me.Slowly, his expression came alive, and he grinned. "What happened?" he asked animatedly. "Take off the knuckle rings." I said looking him in the eyes. He looked down at his hand in surprise, took off the glove, and threw it carelessly in the corner.

"Now take off the holster belt," I said, "don't touch the gun, just unbuckle it." "Unloaded." He said with a smile. "Shit, it's not even a real gun, it's just a stage prop." "Holster belt. Quicker." He looked at the short-barreled . 30 and said, "Is that a real gun? Well, it must be. The screen. Yes, the screen." The person on the bed is no longer on the bed.Standing behind Earl, he quickly reached out and pulled out a shiny gun.Earl was not happy, you could tell by the look on his face. "Get away from him," I said angrily. "Put the gun back where it came from."

"He's right," Wade said. "It's a toy gun." He stepped back and put the shiny pistol on the table. "Christ, I'm as weak as a broken arm." "Take off the holster strap," I said a third time.To do something with someone like Earl is to get it done.Keep it simple and don't change your mind. He did so kindly at last, and went to the table with the belt, grabbed the other gun, put it back in the holster, and put the belt back on.I let him go.Only then did he see Dr. Wellinger lying on the floor beside the wall.He made a concerned sound, walked quickly to the bathroom on the other side of the room, and brought back a jug of water.He poured water on Dr. Wellinger's head.Dr. Wellinger sputtered? Come and groan.Then stroked his chin with his hand, and stood up.Earl went to help him.

"I'm sorry, doctor. I must have shot without seeing who it was." "It's all right, nothing hurt." Wellinger said, waving him away, "Get the car over here, Earl. Don't forget the key to that padlock down there." "The car is coming, no problem. Do it right away. I have the key to the padlock. Do it right away, doctor." He whistled and walked out of the room. Wade sat on the edge of the bed, apparently shaking. "You're the detective he said? How did you find me?" "Ask around for people who know about such things. If you want to go home, you might as well put on your clothes," I said.

Dr. Wellinger leaned against the wall and massaged his chin. "I'll save him," he said in a thick voice, "I'm all about helping people, and they kicked me in the teeth." "I understand how you feel." I said. I walk out and let them deal with it. When they got out, the car was nearby, but Earl was gone.He parked the car, turned off the lights, and walked towards the big house without saying a word to me.He was also whistling, finding the tune of some half-remembered tune. Wade climbed cautiously into the back seat, and I got in the car and sat next to him.Dr. Wellinger drove.Even if his jaw hurt badly and his head hurt, at least it wasn't noticeable, and he didn't mention it.We crossed the valley and came to the end of the gravel drive.Earl had come down, unlocked the gate, and pulled the door open.I told Wellinger where my car was and he parked nearby.Wade gets into my car and sits quietly, staring blankly.Wellinger got out of the car, came around and stood beside Wade, talking to him softly. "Where's my five thousand? Mr. Wade. You promise to write me a check." Wade slid down, resting his head on the back of the chair. "I will think about it." "You promised. I need that money." "Coercion, Wellinger, means threatening to hurt someone. Now I have protection." Wellinger pestered you endlessly, saying, "I'll feed you, wash your body, and see a doctor in the middle of the night. I'll protect you, and I'll heal you—at least temporarily." "It's not worth five thousand dollars." Wade snorted, "You've taken enough money out of my pocket." Wellinger wouldn't let it go. "Mr. Wade, I have friends in Cuba who have promised to help. You are rich and should help others when others are in need. I have Earl to take care of. In order to get this opportunity, I need that money , I will pay you back in full in the future." I began to squirm and wanted to smoke, but I was afraid that Wade would be uncomfortable. "You're going to blame it," Wade said impatiently. "You're not going to live to that day. One day the blue boy will kill you in your sleep." Wellinger took a step back.I couldn't see his expression, but his tone became ruthless. "There are more unpleasant ways of dying," he said, "and I think yours will be one of them." He walked back to his car, got in, drove through the gate, and disappeared inside.I turned the car in reverse and headed downtown.After walking a mile or two, Wade muttered, "Why should I give that stupid fat man five thousand dollars?" "There's no reason to give." "Then why do I feel like an asshole for not giving it to him?" "There's no reason for that." He turned his head slightly so that he could look at me. "He treated me like a child. He rarely left me alone for fear that Earl would come in and beat me up. He took every penny I had in my pocket." "Perhaps you asked him to take it." "Are you on his side?" "Forget it," I said, "it's just an errand for me." The two sides were silent for another two miles.We passed the edge of a suburb.Wade spoke again. "Maybe I'll give it to him. He's broke. Foreclosed on the property and he won't get a dime. It's all about that psycho. Why bother?" "how could I know." "I'm a writer," Wade said. "I'm supposed to understand people's motivations. I don't really understand anyone." I crossed the pass, and after climbing for a while, the lights of the valley stretched endlessly in front of us.We drove downhill to the north and west roads to Ventura, and after a while we crossed Encino.I parked for the green light and looked up at the lights high up on the hill, where there were many big houses.One of them was where the Lennoxes lived.Let's move on. "It's almost a fork in the road," Wade said. "Maybe you already knew." "I know." "By the way, you haven't told me your first and last name yet." "Philip Marlowe." "Good name." His voice changed abruptly. "Wait a minute. You're the guy with Lennox?" "yes." He glared at me in the dark car.We pass the last building on Encino Avenue. "I know her," Wade said. "Not. I've never met him. It's weird, that thing. Law enforcement gave you a hard time, didn't they?" I didn't answer. "Maybe you don't want to talk about it," he said. "Maybe. Why would you be interested?" "Damn, I'm a writer. Stories must be good." "Take a break tonight. You must be weak." "Okay, Marlowe, okay. You don't like me. I get it." We reached a fork in the road, I turned the car in, and drove down the low hills and valleys, and here came Ed Varley. "I don't like you, I don't dislike you." I said, "I don't know you. Your wife wants me to find you and bring you home. I drop you home and the mission is done. Why did she pick me , I can't tell. As I said, it was just an errand." We rounded the side of the hill and took a wider, more firmly paved road.He said his house was a mile away, on the right, and gave me the number.Actually I already know.With his current physical fitness, he is quite talkative. "How much will she pay you?" "We haven't talked yet." "No amount is enough. I can't thank you enough, my friend, for your kindness. I'm not worth your trouble." "It's just your mood tonight." he laughed. "You know, Marlowe? I seem to like you a little bit. You're a little bit of a jerk--like me." We got to his house.It was a two-story, all-shingled house with a small pillared porch and a long lawn that ran from the entrance to the edge of a dense row of bushes within the white enclosure. "You can walk without help?" "Of course," he got out of the car, "won't you come in for a drink or something?" "Not tonight, thanks. I'll wait here until you come in." He stood there breathing hard. "Okay." He said only one sentence. He turned and walked cautiously along the flagstone path to the front door, stood for a moment leaning on a white pillar, and then tried to open the door.The door opened and he walked in.The door was left open, and the light sprinkled the green grass.Suddenly there was a clamor of voices.Guided by the rear lights, I exited the driveway.Someone shouted. I glanced over and saw Eileen Wade standing in the open doorway.I kept driving and she started running.I had to stop, turn off the lights, and step out of the car.When she came, I said: "I should call you, but I dare not leave him." "Of course. Any trouble?" "Oh—just a little more trouble than ringing the doorbell." "Please come inside and tell me what happened." "He should be in bed. He will be fully recovered tomorrow." "Candy will put him to bed," she said. "He won't be drinking tonight, maybe that's what you're thinking about." "I never thought of that. Good night, Mrs. Wade." "You must be tired. Don't you want a drink?" I lit a cigarette.It seemed like I hadn't tasted a cigarette for two weeks.I suck the smoke into my lungs. "Can I take a breath?" She approached and I handed her the cigarette.She took a puff, coughed, and returned the cigarette to me with a smile. "You see, it's all a joke." "So you know Sylvia Lennox," I said. "Is that why you want to hire me?" "Who do I know?" She sounded bewildered. "Sylvia Lennox." Now I've got my cigarettes back and I'm smoking fast. "Oh," she said, startled, "that—the murdered girl. No, I don't know her, but I know who she is. Didn't I tell you?" "Sorry, I forgot what you said to me." She was still standing there very still, very close to me, tall and slender in a white coat or something.The light from the open door shone softly on the edges of her hair. "Why do you ask me if that has anything to do with my - as you say - employing you?" I didn't respond at once, and she went on, "Did Roger say he knew her?" "He brought up the case when I gave my name. He didn't associate me with it right away. He remembered it later. Damn he said a lot, I can't even remember half of it." "I see. Mr. Marlowe, I must go in and see if my husband needs anything. If you don't come in--" "I leave this for you," I said. I hugged her, pulled her closer, threw her head back, and kissed her hard on the lips.She didn't resist or respond, she just backed away quietly and stood there looking at me. "You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be. You're such a nice person." "Yeah, very badly," I agreed, "but I've been a faithful obedient dog all day long, sucked into going on the dumbest adventures I've ever had, and it'd be hell if no one had already written the script Well, you know, I'm sure you always knew where he was--at least Dr. Wellinger's name. You just want me to be involved with him, to get involved with him, and I'll feel responsible for him. Or me Too outrageous?" "Of course you're outrageous," she said calmly. "That's the most ridiculous nonsense I've ever heard." She turned and walked away. "Wait a minute," I said, "that kiss won't leave a scar. You pretend it will. Don't tell me what a nice guy I am, I'd rather be a rascal." She looked back at me, "Why?" "If I wasn't so nice to Terry Lennox, he must be alive." "Really?" she said quietly. "How can you be sure? Good night, Mr. Marlowe. Thank you for everything." She walked back along the grass.I watched her enter the house.The door was closed and the porch light went out.I wave goodbye to the void and drive away. I had nothing to do throughout the week, I just went out to do some business that is not really business.George Peters from the Kahn Agency called me one morning and said he happened to be walking by On the road in the Sepulveda Canyon, I visited Dr. Wellinger's sanatorium curiously, but Dr. Wellinger was no longer there.Five or six teams of land surveyors are mapping the proposed land for subdivision.The person he was talking to had never even heard the name of Dr. Wellinger. "Poor fool was put out of business because of a trust deed," Peters said. A plot of land subdivided into building land can net millions. That's the difference between crime and business. Business has to be financed. Sometimes I think that's the only difference."