Phantom Point

by Gary Inbinder

Table of Contents

Chapter 23: Max and Eve

part 1

Max leaned over the parapet balustrade and gazed out to sea, as if searching for something far beyond his field of vision. The ocean rippling in reflected light beneath an azure sky had no answer. It remained as it had always been, a study in contradictions: beautiful and ugly; peaceful and violent; noisy and silent; conspicuous and secretive; circumscribed and boundless. Like life, he thought.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Eve said.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on a guy like that.” Max whirled around in a defensive posture, but his grin gave him away.

“Oh, my. Are you going to use me for judo practice?”

“You’re awfully cheerful, considering our situation.” He relaxed and leaned back against the balustrade.

“And what is our situation, Mr. Niemand?”

“I’d say we’re up to our necks in... stuff.”

“Stuff?” she repeated with a wry smile.

“I was thinking of another word, but it’s not one I use in the presence of a lady.”

“But I’m not a lady, Max. I’m a detective, just like you.”

He shook his head. “Maybe you’re a detective, but you’re still a lady to me. Just how did you get into this racket?”

Eve came alongside him. They both gazed out to sea. After a moment, she said, “I’ll tell you, if you tell me how you became a shamus.”

Max turned toward her. She had withdrawn a long silver hatpin, removed her broad-brimmed hat and held it in her left hand while shading her eyes with her right to take in the view. Her hair rippled in the wind; her beauty disturbed him. Talking to Eve was like working a chess problem; a blunder could land him in a trap.

“My story’s simple enough. I grew up in the Chicago slums, the son of immigrants. From the ages of eleven to eighteen, I ran with a gang. By the age of sixteen, I was their leader. That’s when I met my sometime pal Ed, who’s now the boss of the North Side mob.

“I was headed for serious trouble when a young settlement worker changed my life. She was a judge’s daughter and she took a special interest in me. She used her father’s influence to pull strings and get me a job as a cop. I was under age, so my parish priest gave me a fake baptismal certificate. Officially, I’m three years older than I really am. I did well as a cop and ended up a detective lieutenant.”

“Why did you quit the police?”

“Too much politics and bureaucracy. I like being my own boss. That’s my story. Now it’s your turn.”

“All right. I come from a socially well-connected New York family. I was educated in Switzerland and at Vassar College—”

“Switzerland and Vassar?” Max interrupted. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m afraid not.” She paused as if irritated by the interruption before saying, “May I continue?”

“I’m sorry. Please do.”

“I won’t bore you with details. I had to leave Vassar due to changed circumstances at home. My father liked to gamble on Wall Street and it caught up with him. Father’s turn of bad luck led to a sale of our most valuable possessions and a move to modest surroundings. For mother, it meant abandoning the society to which she was accustomed. As for me, I was up for sale to the highest bidder, that is to say the most advantageous marriage proposal. But that wasn’t for me. I was twenty-one and I wanted my independence. An attorney who had done some work for my father gave me an opportunity.

“The attorney employed young women investigators for sensitive cases involving his tony clients. That’s how I developed what you called my ‘companion act,’ a role I was well-suited for by birth and education. Within a few years I was his best operative, good enough to go out on my own. And that’s how I got into this racket. Like you, I prefer being my own boss.”

“That’s quite a story, Eve. It’d make a swell play or dime novel. From Riches to Rags to Riches: The True Life Adventures of a Lady Detective. What do you think?”

Eve frowned. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but that’s what you implied. You’ve formed an impression of me in your mind and you seem to be stuck with it. You pigeon-hole people, Max, and then predict they’ll act accordingly. You’re like Lombroso, with his theory of criminal types. You think it’s a strength, being so scientific in the way you analyze character, but it may be your greatest weakness.”

He was about to offer a spirited rebuttal when the sound of shoes sprinting down the gravel pathway interrupted. They turned and saw Sam the houseboy panting and wiping sweat from his brow.

“Excuse me Miss Eve, Mr. Max,” Sam said as soon as he caught his breath. “Mr. Merwin wants you up at the house right away. The marshal’s here.”

* * *

Merwin puffed furiously on a cigar as he paced back and forth in his study. The agitated millionaire reminded Max of a shunting engine in a switching yard. Max, Eve and the marshal sat in a semi-circle as they waited patiently for Merwin to speak. Eventually, Merwin stubbed out his smoke in an ashtray and turned to face his audience. He addressed his first comment to the marshal:

“Duke moved faster than we anticipated.”

“Yes, he did,” Rivers replied. “Maybe he figured the timing was right, or he just lost patience. Whatever the reason, we’ll have to deal with it.”

“Do you believe his story about Doyle accepting a buy-out and heading north?”

“No, sir, I don’t.” Rivers smiled grimly and shook his head. “I suspect Doyle never left Santa Teresa county, alive, that is. At any rate, we’re investigating.”

“Why don’t you arrest Duke and break up the gang? You’ve got sufficient cause, based on what Placco did to Mr. Niemand.”

“I could, but I’d like to string him along for a bit. With more evidence, I could nail Placco and some of his boys on a murder rap.”

Merwin turned to Max. “What do you think, Mr. Niemand?”

“I agree with Marshal Rivers. There’s a kid working for Placco who goes by the name of Jack—”

“Jack Short,” the marshal broke in. “A two-bit punk. He’s the gang’s errand boy.”

“That’s him, all right,” Max said. “He was on my tail for most of the time I was in Santa Teresa, and he was at the shack on the beach where Placco beat me up. Duke left him there to guard me while he tended to some business. Roxy Blaine slipped the kid a Mickey so we could make a getaway. I figure the kid knows where all the bodies are buried. Pick him up and put the screws on. I’ll bet he rats on Placco and the rest of the gang to save his own neck from the noose.”

“That’s my way of thinking,” Rivers said. “We might have to work on the kid for a while, but he’ll talk.”

Merwin looked to Eve. “Well, young woman, do you have anything to add to this conversation?”

“Yes, I do. But first, I think it’s time I told you gentlemen who I am and why I’m here.”

Merwin, Max and Rivers glanced at each other and then looked back at Eve in various states of bewilderment. After an awkward moment of silence, Merwin said: “Well, please don’t keep us in suspense.”

“My name’s Eve Sinclair and I’m a private investigator working out of Los Angeles. That much you know. What you don’t know is that, on occasion, I work for the Los Angeles police on an ad hoc basis. Unfortunately, the department doesn’t employ women as officers, an unenlightened policy that I and others are working diligently to change.”

“Wait a minute,” Max said. “You work for Buck Hamlin, don’t you?”

“That’s right, Mr. Niemand.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before now?”

“Yes, Miss Sinclair,” Merwin said. “Why did you wait until now to tell Mr. Niemand, Marshal Rivers and me?” Merwin’s face reddened and he stared at Eve.

“The answer is simple, Mr. Merwin. I’m assisting Lieutenant Hamlin in the Burgess murder investigation. I couldn’t reveal my main purpose for being here until I eliminated you as a suspect.”

“Thank you very much, Miss Sinclair. I don’t suppose you’d mind telling us how you determined I wasn’t involved in Burgess’s murder?”

“I can tell you this much. You had a motive to kill Burgess; you wanted the missing Phantom Point map. It could be worth millions to you and your investors. But at the time of the murder, you were nowhere near Los Angeles. Of course, you could have hired an accomplice to do the job, but as of this morning that possibility was eliminated.”

“I see,” said Merwin. “And would you kindly tell me what you discovered this morning that got me off the hook as a suspect?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not at liberty to say, at least, not at this time.”

Merwin shrugged and shook his head, but said nothing.

“I suppose our meeting at the Los Angeles depot was planned?” Max said to Eve.

“Yes, it was.”

“And you’ve had your eye on me ever since,” Max said.

“Pretty much,” she replied.

“And you reported my actions back to Hamlin?”

“Of course.”

Max looked her in the eye. Did she know he had the map stored in a safe deposit box at the bank? He guessed that she did, but she didn’t want Merwin to know, at least not yet. He smiled. “You’re quite a girl, Miss Sinclair.”

“Yes, she is,” Rivers said. The old gunslinger turned to Eve. “You didn’t trust me because you thought Mr. Merwin had me in his pocket. Ain’t I right?”

“Well, Marshal, I wouldn’t have put it quite that way,” she replied.

“Wouldn’t you?” the marshal said with a sly grin. “I’ve been at this game a long time, Miss, and I don’t blame you for playing your cards close to the vest. You’re all right by me.”

“Do you have anything to add, Mr. Niemand?” Merwin said.

“No, sir,” Max replied. “We’ve got our work cut out for us: catch Burgess’s killer, find out what happened to Doyle, break up the Placco gang and recover the Phantom Point map. But with Marshal Rivers, Miss Sinclair, the Los Angeles detectives and me playing on the same team, we’ll get the job done.”

“Let’s not forget the sheriff and his posse,” Rivers said.

Max smiled and turned to Rivers. “That’s swell, Marshal, as long as we don’t trip over each other.”

There was a knock at the door. Sam entered. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said. “Deputy Riley’s here to see Marshal Rivers. He says it’s urgent.”

“It’s all right, Sam,” Merwin said. “Send the deputy in.”

Sam left and, a moment later, Riley came into the study. He glanced around without speaking.

“What is it, Riley?” Rivers asked. “You can speak freely with these folks.”

Riley turned to the marshal. “I believe I know what happened to Doyle.”

* * *

Proceed to part 2...

Copyright © 2022 by Gary Inbinder