Free Psycho - Three Complete Novels by Robert Bloch Page A

investigator inhaled slowly. “Of course that doesn’t prove Mary Crane hasn’t been to see you. She could have sneaked in some evening after your store closed, just like her sister did, tonight.”
    Sam sighed. “But she didn’t. Look, you heard what Lila here just told you. I haven’t even heard from Mary for weeks. I wrote her a letter last Friday, the very day she’s supposed to have disappeared. Why should I do a thing like that if I knew she was going to come here?”
    “To cover up, of course. Very smart move.” Arbogast exhaled savagely.
    Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not that smart. Not that smart at all. I didn’t know about the money. The way you’ve explained it, not even Mr. Lowery knew in advance that somebody was going to bring him forty thousand dollars in cash on Friday afternoon. Certainly Mary didn’t know. How could we possibly plan anything together?”
    “She could have phoned you from a pay station after she took the money, on Friday night, and told you to write her.”
    “Check with the phone company here,” Sam answered wearily. “You’ll find I haven’t had any long-distance calls for a month.”
    Arbogast nodded. “So she didn’t phone you. She drove straight up, told you what had happened, and made a date to meet you later, after things cooled down.”
    Lila bit her lip. “My sister’s not a criminal. You don’t have any right to talk about her that way. You have no real proof that she took the money. Maybe Mr. Lowery took it himself. Maybe he cooked up this whole story, just to cover up—”
    “Sorry,” Arbogast murmured. “I know how you feel, but you can’t make him your patsy. Unless the thief is found, tried and convicted, our company doesn’t pay off—and Lowery is out of the forty grand. So he couldn’t profit from the deal in any way. Besides, you’re overlooking obvious facts. Mary Crane is missing. She has been missing ever since the afternoon she received that money. She didn’t take it to the bank. She didn’t hide it in the apartment. But it’s gone. And her car is gone. And she’s gone.” Again a cigarette died and was interred in the ash tray. “It all adds up.”
    Lila began to sob softly. “No, it doesn’t! You should have listened to me when I wanted to call the police. Instead I let you and Mr. Lowery talk me out of it. Because you said you wanted to keep things quiet, and maybe if we waited Mary would decide to bring the money back. You wouldn’t believe what I said, but I know now that I was right. Mary didn’t take that money. Somebody must have kidnaped her. Somebody who knew about it—”
    Arbogast shrugged, then rose wearily and walked over to the girl. He patted her shoulder. “Listen, Miss Crane—we went through this before, remember? Nobody else knew about the money. Your sister wasn’t kidnaped. She went home and packed her bags, drove off in her own car, and she was alone. Didn’t your landlady see her off? So be reasonable.”
    “I am reasonable! You’re the one who doesn’t make sense! Following me up here to see Mr. Loomis—”
    The investigator shook his head. “What makes you think I followed you?” he asked quietly.
    “How else did you happen to come here tonight? You didn’t know that Mary and Sam Loomis were engaged. Outside of me, no one knew. You didn’t even know Sam Loomis existed.”
    Arbogast shook his head. “I knew. Remember up at your apartment, when I looked through your sister’s desk? I came across this envelope.” He flourished it.
    “Why, it’s addressed to me,” Sam muttered—and rose to reach for it.
    Arbogast drew his hand away. “You won’t need this,” he said. “There’s no letter inside, just the envelope. But I can use it, because it’s in her handwriting.” He paused. “As a matter of fact, I have been using it, ever since Wednesday morning when I started out for here.”
    “You started out for here—on Wednesday?” Lila dabbed at her eyes with a