“Not me,” Spud said, jerking on the ends of his bandana.
“You nervous about something?”
“I don’t like people calling me a child molester.”
“I had a talk with the sheriff’s office in Hazard, Kentucky,” Benbow said. “The sheriff told me you got it on the brain.”
“What on the brain?”
“It.”
Spud looked away as though he wanted to will himself across the fields and into the mountains. He tied the bandana around his neck.
“He good man,” the Japanese woman said. “He don’t hurt nobody.”
Benbow smiled at her, then turned back to Spud. “Know a fellow named Rizzo Marx?”
“No.”
“He’s the inmate who stole a transistor radio off a deputy’s desk and sold it to you for one dollar. Two nights ago somebody flattened all four of his tires behind that same pool hall in Trinidad. Most likely with an ice pick.”
“There’s a lot of bad people here’bouts, all right,” Spud said, looking into the distance.
“The same night a wino saw a man walking on the next block with his arm in a sling. He had a big cardboard box under his other arm. A woman stopped to help him, and the two of them walked off. You weren’t in Trinidad then?”
The wind gusted, causing the brim of Spud’s hat to tremble like a tobacco leaf.
“The same woman was found in an alley about four the next morning,” Benbow said. “Her panties were around her ankles. Her blouse and one shoe were pulled off. She was obviously raped. I won’t tell you what was done to her face. We can’t tell the cause of death yet, because too many things could have done it.”
Spud looked seasick.
“You don’t know anything about it?” Benbow said.
“No, sir.”
“But you were in the poolroom?”
“Early. For just a few games of pool.”
“Did you vandalize the man’s tires?”
“I got nothing to say on that.”
“Will your arm fit in that bandana?”
“This ain’t right,” Spud said, shaking his head. “Nosirree, it ain’t right.”
“Did you vandalize the vehicle behind the poolroom?” Benbow said. “Establish your credibility. Get in front of this.”
“If I say I did, you’ll try to hang a murder rap on me.”
“Maybe I’m on your side,” Benbow said. “You think of that?”
Before Spud could reply, Maisie charged into the circle. “He here every night!” She pointed to her eye. “I see him here! You stop making up stories about good man!”
The second deputy took her by the arm and pushed and pulled her to the truck cab while she hit at him with her free hand. He stuffed her in the driver’s seat. But the opportunity had been lost for Detective Benbow. Spud had gotten control of his fear and shame and obviously was not going to be tricked into making an admission that could keep him in jail for months because he couldn’t make bail. Benbow opened and closed his right hand, his cheek ridging.
“Detective?” I said.