Wills called me up to his office the day Dodd arrived, both to meet him and to give him the guided tour. Dodd shook hands the right way, said the right things, dressed the right way, and let me call him Mr. Raymond just one time. I wondered if Ray had been wrong.
But a week after Dodd reported I had a personal letter from Tory Wylan. He confirmed what Ray had told me. He filled in the details of some raw situations Dodd had been mixed up in. He’d trampled some good men and he’d come out on top. Tory wrote that Dodd had some of the top management fooled. The proof was in the fact that Dodd had been able to get a transfer to his own home town—a thing that was strictly against C.P.P. policy.
So, had I not been forewarned, maybe I would have thought Dodd a nice guy. He knew the business and stayed out of my hair. I protected myself by starting a work journal, dictating into it all orders he gave me.
After he and his wife got settled he had me to their place for drinks and dinner, with his wife and his mother. That was the beginning. That’s how I started to get mixed up in the lives of Dodd and Nancy Raymond. Were it not for Dodd, and his being a home town boy with a considerable social pedigree, I would never have gotten to meet Mary Olan, much less endure the motel fiasco and later find her body in my closet. Dodd threw me and Mary Olan together, because he needed a cat’s paw.
He had spotted me on the beach and he came on over. In grey suit and necktie he looked far too dressed up for Smith Lake.
“Hello, Marilyn, Clint. Certainly is a beautiful day up here. Getting hot as hell in town. Clint, can I talk to you a minute?”
It had more of a heavy-boss flavor than I liked, but I excused myself and walked over near the boat house with him.
“What’s up?”
“There’s nothing new about Mary. I dropped Nancy off at Mother’s camp. Clint, I’m really worried about her. This isn’t like her. She invited most of these people here.”
“They seem to be doing fine.”
“Did she act all right when she dropped you off?”
“She was fine and dandy, Dodd. Just like I told the police you sicked on me.”
“Don’t be like that, boy! Hell, they asked me. I had to tell them.”
“You’re pretty jittery.”
“Mary is one of my best friends. You know that.”
Sure. One of his best friends. And he thought he was pulling the wool over Nancy’s eyes in fixing it up so Mary would date me and the four of us could make a nice jolly foursome. But I knew, as he didn’t know, that he wasn’t fooling Nancy a damn bit. Mary, in her own special way, had been making a fool out of Dodd Raymond. Maybe she actually wanted him. Or maybe she had been merely getting even for his unthinkable disloyalty in marrying a stranger without asking her permission first. I hadn’t been able to figure out which it was. I only knew that he wanted Mary Olan and that I had been a handy device to keep her within range. Mary had been seven years younger than Dodd. But they had known each other well before he had moved away from Warren. How well I could only guess.
“How is Nancy taking it?” I asked maliciously.
“She’s upset too, naturally. But let’s leave my wife out of it for the time being, shall we? You don’t seem to give a damn about Mary, Clint.”
“She’ll turn up,” I said.
“When you get dressed why don’t you drive over to the camp? Mother will be pleased to see you. We can have a few drinks and talk this thing over.”
I said I would. It would be pleasant to see Nancy, at least. When the sun had dried me I said goodby to Marilyn, who pouted at me for leaving. There was no need to say goodby to anyone else.
I drove down the lake shore road to the sign which said, in copper and stained wood, RAYMOND . Each year Dodd’s mother moved up to the small, comfortable camp at the lake with her nurse as soon as the weather waswarm enough, leaving, this summer, the big house in town for Dodd and Nancy rather than
Jan (ILT) J. C.; Gerardi Greenburg