Free An Eye for an Eye by Leigh Brackett Page B

man. She said that’s why she kept going back to him in spite of everything. But you’ve heard the story, of course.”
    Ben turned down Norland Avenue. “Her family figured they got rid of her and weren’t happy to have her back. Yes, I heard the story. I think it worked both ways. I think Lorene didn’t like it either.”
    He spun around the corner and pulled up in front of the apartment house. “There, that didn’t take long, did it?”
    She looked at him rather oddly, but all she said was, “No.” They went up to the apartment.
    She took her coat off and told him to sit down. There was a small desk in the corner with the phone on it. She began to go through the drawers.
    “What exactly did Al say to you?” Ben asked.
    “That made me sore,” she said. “I did think Lorene ought to tend to her own business. But she made such a fuss about it—”
    “What did he say?”
    Again she gave him that odd look. “He called three times. Or at least that’s how often I answered. Lorene wouldn’t go near the phone except for Vern, and they had this code worked out. He’d ring three times and hang up, then ring again. You know. Well, actually I was surprised. I thought this Al would be a rough customer from all I’d heard, but he was real polite to me. Practically begged me to get Lorene to talk to him. I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him. He really did seem to be taking it hard.”
    “He didn’t tell you where he was living?”
    “No, he only gave me the number, and where the devil did I put it? I could have sworn—”
    “So he only asked you to have Lorene call him. Is that all?”
    “Just about. The last time he said he wouldn’t call again but he still hoped to hear from her. He said he’d be at that number for one more week. After that he would have to make other plans.”
    “And when was that?”
    “About three weeks ago.” She stopped shuffling papers to turn and look directly at him. “What is all this about Al?”
    Ben said stubbornly, “Just a legal formality. Why?”
    “You seem so—so intense about it.”
    “That isn’t it at all. I—maybe Lorene told you. I’ve had troubles of my own.”
    “Oh yes. Your wife. Is she better?”
    “No. No, she isn’t.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said, and sounded as though she really was. She went back to rooting in the desk. Ben sat and smoked and sweated and watched his hands shake. They fascinated him. He had no control over them at all.
    “Here it is,” she said, and rose and handed him a piece of paper.
    He took it. The number was scrawled in pencil and identified with Al Guthrie’s name. He put the paper carefully in his wallet.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    “He probably isn’t there any more.”
    “He may have left a forwarding address. Come on, I’ll buy you that lunch.”
    “You don’t have to do that, Mr. Forbes. Thanks anyway, but I’d just as soon grab a sandwich. Really.”
    Ben let her talk him out of it. It crossed his mind that he was making her nervous because he was so wire-drawn himself, and that she was anxious to get rid of him. He did not worry about it. He let her out where she asked to be let out and thanked her again, and then promptly forgot her.
    The next problem was a telephone. The office was out and it would take too long to go home. Downtown there were too many people he knew, including Ernie MacGrath. He did not want to meet anybody right now. He kept on driving until he saw a service station with a public booth. He left his car at the pump and went into the booth and dialed the number.
    A man’s voice answered. For one wild moment he thought it was Al Guthrie’s. Then he knew it was not.
    “Yeah? This is Muller speaking.”
    “Mr. Muller, my name is Forbes. I’m an attorney here in town. I was given this number for a Mr. Albert Guthrie. Do you—”
    “Guthrie?”
    “That’s right. Al Guthrie.”
    “Oh,” said Muller. “Him. He’s gone.”
    “Do you know where?”
    “No, I do