The Corpse Was Blind - Chapter 7

Ray Irish Mystery Case File #4

When Ray arrived at his office, he found the door unlocked. He pulled his .45 Auto from the holster under his arm and carefully pushed open the door. A quick glance around the room found no one. He took a peek at the lock, where he found no obvious signs that someone forced the lock mechanism open.

With a frown, he looked around the office again and his gaze stopped at the closed door leading to his bedroom and bathroom. The shamus remembered the door was open when he left the evening before.

Silently, he crept to the door and placed his ear close. After a moment, Irish slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open while moving to the side. After an eerie creak, the door stopped, and he peaked inside the room.

What the hell!

Mary Leigh lay asleep in his bed. Fully clothed, the woman is laying on her side, facing the door. As he came closer, Ray observed the sleeping woman. Her hair partially covered her face, giving her an endearing look. When he took another step closer, a gun suddenly pointed at him when she woke. He didn’t have time to even move. Luckily, she recognized him and relaxed.

“I see you took my advice.”

Irish smirked as she lowered the weapon. Still, the encounter rattled him. His suspicions were correct. Mrs. Leigh was far too efficient with that pistol to be an ordinary housewife.

“Now, what brings you here and why are you sleeping in my bed?” He scowled, curious about her background but still tired from a lack of sleep.

“I needed to see you,” she told him airily while putting her pistol in her purse. “You weren’t here, so I waited.”

Ray went to the window and opened it. He looked out at the sidewalk but didn’t spot anyone watching the building.

“Last I checked, I locked the door when I left,” he finally replied, while taking another scan of the area.

“People are watching my house.” She ignored his observation.

The shamus glanced over as Mary stretched. He had to admit, she had a nice body. Still, the woman was deadly.

“Well, it sounds like you need to call the police,” he turned for one last look out the window. “Whoever’s watching your house might be a good guy or a bad guy.”

Ray dropped the shades and turned to her.

“A funny thing happened last night. I met a couple of government men who are very interested in you. I wonder why?”

Her expression turned dark at the news, and she looked away. He could almost hear the gears turning as he told her the rest of his encounter. He wasn’t expecting a straight answer when he asked about their involvement.

“I don’t know why they did that. All I know is my husband is dead and people are watching me,” she told him while rising from the bed.

“Then you should leave town,” he advised, while heading to the door. “Otherwise, I’m sure someone will find you, either your husband’s murderer or the Feds. It appears the choice is yours at this point.”

As he passed her, he felt a tug on his arm. When he turned, Mary brought her arms around him and planted a kiss on his lips.

“I need your help. You’re the only one who can help me. Please, just don’t ask why.”

“You’d go that far?” He pulled her close.

Mary nodded, with tears welling in her eyelids. Ray kissed her, and she responded passionately. Then, the shamus pushed her down on the bed, pinning her arms as he lay on top of her. Irish noticed her eyes widen with concern, and he grinned. Shaking his head, the man let go of her arms and pushed himself up from the bed.

“Lady, two things you need to learn. First, you’re an alright kisser, but I like passion with sex, not your submission. Second, I’ve had a beautiful grifter pull the same game on me before and I’ve still got the scars.”

He stared down at her exposed leg and the hint of her silk underwear.

“Put down your skirt. You look too damn tempting.” The shamus turned away. “If you decide to come clean and still want my help, you can meet me at the bottom of the stairs. Those are my terms. Take ‘em or leave ‘em!”

Ray stopped at the door with his hand on the doorknob.

“You can take my car and talk about your trouble. Just remember, I don’t walk into dark alleys on faith, so I don’t end up like your husband did. Also, I won’t believe most of what you tell me.”

As Ray read the newspaper that he found stuck in his mailbox, Mary arrived about ten minutes later. The woman kept her suspiciously calm demeanor.

“I accept your terms,” she stated.

“Good enough. Follow me,” Ray folded the newspaper and quickly walked past her and went to his car.

Mary followed him and slid in as he started the Nash.

“We’ll go to a nice quiet spot where no one will hear or see us.”

The woman’s eyebrow raised at his words, but she leaned back and looked to the street.

They reached a secluded area just off the main highway to Baltimore. As he turned the car off the road and down the dusty path that ended at a small cliff which overlooked the bay. The wind coming off the water sent up a spray that peppered the windshield when Ray came to a stop. After he turned off the engine, the shamus turned to her and he noticed her hand was close to her purse.

“Alright Mary Leigh, this is nice and quiet. I noticed you were monitoring anyone tailing the car. As you can see, no one will bother us here. Now you can talk me into working for you.”

The woman bit her lip slightly, apparently deciding on what to tell him. Ray helped the conversation along.

“I’ll make it easy for you to start. Who the hell are you? You’re not a sweet housewife when you can handle a gun like that.”

Mary remained quiet, but her eyes stayed on him. The look on her face changed, as if she was deciding something. Finally, she spoke.

“If I tell you, will you help me? I can pay you well, but I have to retrieve something. Don’t ask me what I must get. It’s what they killed my husband over.”

Ray pushed back his fedora and leaned back in the seat. He stared straight ahead, listening to the alarm sirens in his head.

“Meaning you can’t trust me, but I’m supposed to keep you safe. You can take care of yourself, but you want help. That leads me to believe this is a numbers game. You have too many against you and you don’t like the odds.”

He blurted out his thoughts, then turned to her.

“I don’t like the odds, either. Let’s start small before I make any promises. How did you learn to handle a gun so well?”

The woman gave him a nod.

“OSS during the war,” she said. “I speak French and they wanted help, so they recruited me. I’m accurate with most types of guns. What about you? I suspect your walk didn’t come from jumping out of a window to avoid a jealous husband.”

“Seabees,” he replied quickly. “What about your husband? The police say he worked at the base. One theory is some of his men took out your husband’s eyes. So, are they after you or the item you want to retrieve?”

The woman sighed and looked away, staring out the passenger window.

“It’s possible the police are correct. They’ll do to me the same that they did to him. Trevor was an officer stationed in Italy, then France, before coming back to the states. I met him here when I returned from a mission. It was near the end of the war, so I worked on the base for G2. I won’t tell you anymore about my work there.”

“Is that why the FBI is interested in you?”

She shook her head.

“No, but I’m not sure why they’re here. As far as I know, Trevor and I never caught their attention. We’ve been very careful.”

“Not as careful as you thought. You have the Feds and murderers on your tail,” he reminded her. “Anyway, give me more details about this thing you want to retrieve.”

Mary turned to him.

“No, I can’t. I learned you can’t trust anyone, not even your husband.”

“But you’ll make it worth my while to keep you alive long enough for you to get it. Then what?” Ray growled.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, guessing she was acting naively.  

“Remember, I said I wouldn’t believe most of what you tell me. I’ve learned clients lie all the time to either throw me off the trail or to make themselves look better. So, I’ll spell it out. Those people who murdered Trevor won’t stop just because you find this thing. I want to know what you’re going to do after that.”

She shook her head and looked away.

“That’s not your affair. I have a plan, and that’s all you need to know.”

Irish stared at the woman. His first reaction was to tell her to get out of the car and leave her there.

“Maybe that crap worked on your dead husband, but don’t think I’ll play your damn game, lady. Say you skip town with your precious item. What happens to the guy holding the bag? To the bad guys, that’ll be me and I’m not playing your patsy here.”

The woman remained quiet. Suddenly, he decided her stubbornness probably got Trevor Leigh killed. He started the car and threw the shifter into reverse.

“By the time we get to town, you need a better answer or I’m dropping you off at the train station. At least my conscious will be clear that I gave you a chance to escape the noose around your neck.”