The Case of the One-Penny Orange: A Masao Masuto Mystery (Book Two) by Howard Fast

nodded. “Very well.”
    â€œI’ll try to come back this evening. I think it will be over by then — so it’s only one afternoon.”
    â€œWhat shall I tell my husband?”
    â€œWhat time will he be home?”
    â€œSeven — perhaps later.”
    â€œThen you will simply tell him that I said what I said — for your safety and for the child’s safety.” She nodded unhappily. “Thank you.”
    He waited until she had gone inside and he had heard the door lock behind her. Then he walked back to where Officer Bailey sat in his patrol car.
    â€œWhat the hell is this all about?” Bailey asked.
    Masuto shrugged. “Can you come by here every half hour or so?”
    â€œIf it’s all right with the chief.”
    â€œTell him I asked for it — you or someone else.”
    â€œWhat am I looking for?”
    â€œMotorcycles.”
    â€œThe same three?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œYou’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
    Again, Masuto shrugged. “Just keep your eyes open.”

7
    ZEV KOLAN
    It was twelve forty-five when Masuto returned to Beverly Hill police headquarters. He sent out for a sandwich and coffee, and then in the records room he picked up the last three days’ Los Angeles Times . He chewed his ham and cheese without tasting it, while he read the death notice:
    â€œHilda Kramer, beloved wife of Wolf Bernie Kramer and Mother of Ellen Kramer Briggs. Rest in peace.”
    Wainwright stopped by his desk. “What have you got, Masao?”
    â€œA few pieces.”
    â€œDo you know who killed Gaycheck?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t want to share that knowledge?”
    â€œI could be wrong.”
    â€œYou give me a pain in the ass — so help me God, you do, Masao.”
    â€œBeing inscrutable is part of the ploy. Look, Captain, I think I know who murdered Gaycheck. I have no evidence, absolutely nothing. I also have a notion about Haber.”
    â€œNot the same party?”
    â€œNo, indeed. Hardly — but it’s in motion. Maybe I can wrap it up by tomorrow, maybe never.”
    â€œThat’s cheerful.”
    â€œWhat I’m wondering,” Masuto said, “is whether the L.A.P.D. would run an errand for us.”
    â€œMaybe. If we’re nice to them. There have been times when they wanted errands on our turf. What do you have in mind?”
    â€œI want to know about the gun — the little twenty-two-caliber job that killed Gaycheck. I think it was purchased in one of the gun stores downtown during the past week, maybe during the past three days. L.A.P.D. would know who carries that kind of merchandise. Ballistics is pretty certain it was an automatic, not a revolver, a purse gun, probably a fancy little toy with mother-of-pearl on the grip. I’m sure they don’t sell many of those.”
    â€œWhy downtown, Masao? This county is lousy with gun stores.”
    â€œJust a notion. Maybe they can track it down and get us a reading on who bought it.”
    â€œI’ll give it a try.”
    As Wainwright turned away, Masuto said, “One other thing, Captain.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œI want you to authorize two telephone calls.” Detective Sy Beckman, sitting at the next desk, was listening and trying to look like he was not listening. “For Sy here,” Masuto said, nodding at Beckman. “I want him to make the calls for me.”
    â€œI’m waiting,” Wainwright said coldly. “Goddamn it, Masao …”
    Masuto held up a hand and smiled.
    â€œAll right. Tell me.”
    â€œOne to Germany. One to England.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œIt’s important.”
    â€œUse the Telex.”
    â€œIt won’t do. I need the telephone.”
    â€œNo. That loudmouth will sit on the phone for an hour and I’ll get a bill for three hundred dollars, and the city manager will burn my ass