Negative of a Nude Read online

I was about to suggest sitting this one out at a local Malibu tavern, but Dody had leaped from the car and was hurrying down to the ocean, a blanket in hand, calling over her shoulder to hurry up.

  I pulled Harvey’s swimming trunks from the glove compartment and got out of the car and went down to join her. There was a slight incline leading to the dark ocean pounding against the shore a hundred feet away. When I reached Dody, she was sitting on the blanket and taking off her shirt and trousers. She had on a yellow, two-piece bathing suit underneath.

  “Where’s the bath house,” I said. “I’ve got to change.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “It’s dark, and I won’t look anyway.” She laughed. “Meet me in the water,” she said and rushed to meet an oncoming wave.

  I stripped quickly and pulled on the trunks. Then I put my clothes in a neat bundle on the blanket and walked out to where Dody was splashing happily around in the surf. The water was ice cold, and the wind colder when it hit a wet part of my body.

  “Dody, let’s talk awhile first,” I said.

  “We can talk later,” she called. And she dived head first into the ocean.

  Shrugging, I nosed into it myself. It had been years since I’d done any swimming, but fortunately it’s something you don’t forget. The ocean swept over me, blocking out the noise of the wind and the pounding surf. It was very peaceful down under, and I found myself thinking a very disturbing thought: suppose—just suppose—Dody was in on the plot to louse up Wonder. What better place or time than this right now, on the beach or in the ocean at night.

  I surfaced, gasping, and tried to put the thought from my mind. It was ridiculous. Dody didn’t seem to be around. Neither did the ocean bottom. I treaded, and called, “Dody?”

  She didn’t answer, but I felt something grasp my leg. I went under to see what it was, and I wasn’t surprised to find it was a girl in a yellow bathing suit. I couldn’t see her, of course, but nothing feels more like a girl than a girl, even a young one like Dody. And Dody, I was surprised to feel, was not as young as I thought.

  We wrestled underwater until my lungs felt like I’d about had it. I started up, but Dody’s elbow hit me in the stomach. It was probably an accident, but it knocked the air out of me, and when Dody’s arms went around me, holding me down, I could hear the panic button going off.

  Dody was a better swimmer, but I was stronger. I forced her away and crawled desperately for the surface. It seemed forever before I popped into the air and gasped a fresh supply into my lungs. Dody surfaced beside me, laughing, clinging to me.

  “I was only pulling your leg, mister,” she said.

  “My turn!” I told her, but she lunged away and swam toward shore.

  I went after her and nearly caught her. Then she was staggering through the surf, stumbling across the sand, with me at her heels. She fell on the blanket and rolled it around her.

  “C’mon, join me,” she said.

  It wasn’t a bad idea. Now that I was out of the water and not running, the cool wind was turning my wet body into an icicle. I joined her in the blanket, teeth chattering, and she pressed herself against me and wrapped her arms around my back and the blanket around us both.

  Her body was wet, but it was warm wet, and it felt very pleasant. There was more to Dody than met the eye, and it was difficult forcing myself to remember she was only a child, if not in years, at least emotionally. I forced myself to remember it.

  “Do you do this very often,” I said conversationally, adding hastily, “swimming, I mean.”

  “Most every night,” she said. “I’m generally alone, though. Once in a while I come down here with a fellow, but they try to get fresh with me. I’m not like Eloise. Did you know she’s seeing a psychiatrist?”

  “I think you mentioned it.”

  “Well, she is. Poor fellow. She keeps trying to get him down on the couch with her. Do you think she’s pretty?”

  “I hadn’t noticed particularly, but I guess she is sort of attractive.”

  “I was afraid you’d like her. Most men do. Harvey doesn’t, though. He used to, but he doesn’t any more. It was infatuation at first sight. Harvey was infatuated with Eloise. Eloise was infatuated with Harvey’s money. They married each other for their mutual interests. That was before Harvey knew she was a nymphomaniac.”

  Well, I thought, that explained one thing, although it wasn’t too flattering to me. Harvey might not like his wife’s habits, but he was certainly trying to protect her by finding those pictures she’d posed for. Unless—

  The thought came sledgehammering at me: unless the pictures were part of the louse-up-Wonder plot, too.

  “We’d better go back to the house,” I suggested.

  I rolled away, unraveling the blanket, and stood up in the cool night. It didn’t feel so cold, now that my body was dry.

  Dody got up and pulled on her dungarees and the shirt and stepped into her sandals. She folded the blanket, picked it up, then reached up briefly and brushed her lips against my cheek.

  “I’ll wait for you in the car,” she said.

  I climbed out of my trunks, toweled briskly, and put on my clothing. I rejoined her.

  “How about me trying it out,” I said, indicating the car.

  “Be my guest, brave one.”

  I climbed into the pilot’s seat, she beside me. “Okay, now what?”

  “You start it like this,” she said, reaching across me to start it. The car engine responded, and she returned to her seat. “Remember it has four forward gears with an H-pattern, and you’re in business.”

  I didn’t really want to learn to drive the car. I had more important things to do. But I figured with me driving I had a fighting chance to get back to the Dutton residence to do the more important things. I threw the gearshift into what turned out to be second gear and started off. Slowly.

  Dody sighed patiently, and I saw I was making no points here. Determinedly I swung the car off the dirt onto the highway, accelerating fiercely. I was too occupied to turn on the lights, so Dody remembered this detail. I was busy shifting into third, then fourth.

  The car really had it, I marveled silently. At Sunset, I turned and headed inland. The cornering was very nice indeed. It was difficult to keep the speed down, but I had the feeling everything was under control. Before long, we were even accelerating with about the same gusto as the first trip, but my stomach was getting used to the idea. It seemed a disappointingly short time when we cornered into the circular driveway and came to a stop inches from my Chevvy.

  “Not bad,” Dody said, applauding lightly. “How about a coffee?”

  “I’d like a coffee,” I said. “Dody, do you or Eloise know the combination to the wall safe in the library?”

  “Sure. At least, I know it, although Harv doesn’t know I know it. That is, I don’t think he knows I know it.”

  “I get the message,” I said. “I’d like to see those pictures again.”

  Dody grinned. “For business or pleasure.”

  “Business,” I said. “Something about them looks familiar.”

  “I should hope so,” Dody said. “Women do have standard parts, you know.”

  “I’ve heard that,” I admitted.

  “The combination,” Dody called over her shoulder, “is thirty-six right, nine left, seventeen right, then to zero. Go rob the family jewels while I get the coffee going.”

  I went into the library. Eloise wasn’t anywhere in sight, and neither was Harvey. I’d noticed the gold Cadillac hadn’t been parked out front. This was a good sign.

  I swung aside the picture showing what a horrible mess was round-up time in Texas. As my fingers touched the safe dial, I thought: in just ten seconds Harvey Dutton will come through the door, think I’m collecting my fee in advance, and let me have a dozen bullets in the gut. I twirled the dial right, left, right again, then to zero. No bullets, no sound of gun firing; only the click of the safe opening. I swung open the door.

  A thought struck me.
Dody had known, not only the safe combination, but also about the pictures. I hadn’t mentioned them to her, and chances are neither Harvey nor Eloise would. Of course, she might have snooped in the safe. But suppose she weren’t as innocent as she appeared. She might have been the one driving away from Cherry’s apartment in the sports car.

  The idea was ridiculous. Wonder, I told myself, you’re an idiot, and returned to the contents of the safe.

  The brown envelope was on top. I pulled it out, opened it. The note and the three pictures were still there, and Eloise Dutton still held her classic pose on the bed. The old feeling came gnawing at my memory again. I had the impression I’d seen that bedroom before!

  I was returning the envelope with the pictures to the safe, when I noticed what else was in there. No family jewels. A cigar box, and a small notebook. I took them out.

  The notebook was filled with names, addresses, telephone numbers. I looked up two names hurriedly. Cherry Collins. Jake Richey. They were both there.

  The cigar box was filled with party favors.

  Lenny was right. Harvey was in this up to his neckerchief, and it looked as though he was trying to pull me in with him. I heard Dody coming, so I returned the notebook and the cigar box, closed the safe door, swung the wall picture into place.

  “The coffee’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she said, coming in and plopping herself on the couch. “Find what you were looking for?”

  I collapsed on the couch beside her. “Yes, indeed. No family jewels, though. Tell me, Dody, does anyone besides you drive your Healey?”

  “Generally not. Harvey has his Cad, and Eloise can always get a volunteer to give her a ride.”

  “But they do sometimes drive your car?” I persisted.

  “Sure, why?”

  Because, I thought, I don’t want you to have been the one calling on Cherry Collins earlier this evening, you adorable idiot!

  “Just wondering,” I said, answering her question. “Is Eloise home now?”

  “I didn’t see her. Does it matter?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe she has a late date.”

  “Doesn’t Harvey mind her late dates?”

  “Sure, I suppose so. I can tell he’s annoyed with her. If I were Harvey, I’d kill her.”

  “Do any men come here to the house?”

  She shook her head. “Not to see Eloise, anyway. Sometimes they come to see Harvey, though. Business acquaintances, he calls them. They look more like monkey-business acquaintances. Harvey always shoos me out of the room. Says business talk would bore me. And it would, too, I guess; I never have had a head for business matters. That’s why I never bothered listening.”

  “Never?”

  She blushed. “Well, hardly ever.”

  “And they were talking about oil wells?”

  She frowned at that. “No,” she said. “That’s the strange thing. I couldn’t really make out what they were saying with the door closed and they talked so quietly, but nothing sounded like oil wells. Funny, isn’t it?”

  “Hilarious,” I agreed. “If a guy earns his money from oil wells and he talks to business acquaintances, you’d think they’d talk about oil wells. But then I don’t own any, so I can’t be sure. Did you say something about coffee?”

  “Coffee!” Dody screamed, remembering. She leaped up and rushed from the room. A few minutes later, she returned, bearing a tray with two cups of black coffee. “You do drink your coffee black, don’t you? I mean, since you’re a private detective.”

  This was an interesting generalization, but I didn’t want to sidetrack the conversation by asking how she’d arrived at that conclusion. Besides, as far as this particular private detective was concerned, black was fine. I accepted the cup offered me.

  “For Harvey’s sister,” I said, as she settled beside me on the couch again, “you know surprisingly little about the guy.”

  “Harvey and I were never close, even as children. Our parents died when we were quite young, and I went to live in San Francisco with an aunt.”

  San Francisco, I thought—where Cherry Collins came from. I pushed the thought aside, buried it.

  “Harvey stayed behind with some other relatives, and the next thing I knew he was living here in L.A. I came down for a visit, and he persuaded me to stay. He said there was oil on the land back home, and he had a regular income from it.”

  “Did you ever go to Texas and see the wells?”

  She shook her head no. “I never cared much for Texas, and Harvey said there was nothing to see but oil wells anyway, since they tore down the old house, so I never went back. Besides, I guess I was a little afraid I’d come back with an accent like Harvey’s. It’s hideous.”

  “Dody, did you ever know a girl named Cherry Collins?”

  She thought a moment. “No,” she said. “That’s a funny name for a girl.”

  “It’d be a funnier name for a boy,” I said. I got up. “Dody, I’ve got to go.”

  She got up and came over to me and put her hands on my shoulders. “Why don’t you stick around for awhile, Mark. We can sit on the sofa and smooch.”

  “I’d like that, Dody,” I said, meaning it, “but I’ve got work to do,” meaning that too. I had to see Cherry Collins again. She was the one with the answers to questions I had concerning Harvey Dutton, and she’d answer them this time if I had to force the truth from her. “Raincheck?”

  “Raincheck,” she agreed. “I guess I’ll go right to bed.” She grinned mischievously. “Sure you won’t join me?”

  “One of these days,” I promised, reaching for her.

  Her lips came up, and we collided. Little Dody Dutton was growing up fast, and my resistance was getting worn down at the same rate of speed. I untangled myself and we walked to the door together, arm in arm. Another kiss, and I walked down to the Chevvy, while she closed the door behind me.

  I wasn’t surprised this time. I was getting used to people waiting for me in my car. I opened the door.

  “Have a nice swim?” Eloise Dutton said.

  I sat on the front seat beside her. “Fine,” I said.

  “Dody makes a fine cup of coffee, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes,” I admitted, “yes, she certainly does.”

  Eloise was wearing tight white shorts and a halter, and her golden hair hung loose around her neck. She had an unlit cigarette in one hand. I took my cigarette lighter from my pocket and flicked a flame into life. As she bent toward me, cigarette in mouth, I could see her breasts move as she breathed heavily. The lady had something on her mind. I had a good idea of what that something was, and I thought of how white and soft-looking her skin was. I derailed that train of thought quickly.

  “You didn’t have to wait up for me,” I said, being nasty in self-defense, “there’s a cigarette lighter in the car. There might even be one in your house.”

  “That’s not very nice,” she pouted. It wasn’t a girlish pout, though it was intended for one.

  “I’m sorry, then.”

  Impatiently, she threw her cigarette out the window. “Dody’s only a child, Mark, why do you bother with her.”

  “I’m fond of kids,” I said. “Besides, she’s growing up.”

  “I’m already grown,” she said softly.

  “I noticed that,” I admitted. “You’re also married.”

  She snorted at that. “Harvey is away on business, the butler is visiting his mother in Compton, and Dody’s bedroom is way on the other side of the house. What more could you want?”

  “Good night, Mrs. Dutton,” I emphasized.

  I reached across her to open the door. Her fingernails dug into my arm.

  “Mark,” she said steadily, “I know who has those negatives.”

  That one stopped me. “Who?”

  “If I tell you, you collect the negatives from the person, deliver the negatives to Harvey, and collect the rest of your five thousand dollars. But first—”

  “Who has the negatives, Eloise?”
/>   “I’ll tell you—afterward.”

  “I see. A little blackmail of your own, eh?”

  “Am I that hard to take?”

  “You’re not hard to take at all, but I don’t make love to married women. I’m a louse, sure, but not that much of a louse. Thanks for the offer, but—”

  “It wasn’t an offer, Mark. It was an ultimatum.”

  “Which means what?”

  “Which means I’ll tell Harvey you took advantage of me while he was away. That will make him real mad. He might even kill you.”

  Or worse, I thought, he wouldn’t pay me the five thousand dollars. So what’s my honor compared to that? “Okay,” I said, “you win. Take me. I’m yours, body and soul.”

  “Keep your soul,” she said, opening the car door. “Follow me.”

  I followed, but I had no intention of going to bed with her. I needed time, and this was one way to get it. Perhaps Eloise was bluffing, but perhaps she wasn’t. A girl’s memory wasn’t so short she’d forget a camera she’d undressed for. I’d suspected that before, and I knew it now.

  She had me by the hand, and I went with her into the hallway, up the circular stairs that led to a corridor. She opened a door leading to darkness and switched on the light. We went into her bedroom and she closed the door behind us.

  The room was very feminine, with things lacy and ruffled on the bed and the windows and even the chairs. It reminded me. There was something about bedrooms. Something I couldn’t quite grasp.

  But the lady was for grasping, and she made it known. With a succession of quick movements, she unleashed her breasts from the halter, dropped her shorts and stepped out of them. She stood nude, facing me with her arms outstretched.

  I turned away, stared at the window, trying to be calm.

  “Who has the negatives, Eloise?”

  I could sense her behind me, the delicate female perfume of her body drifting over me in sensuous waves. Her body was touching mine now. Her arms stole around my waist, caressing.

  “It’s all right, Mark,” she said softly, “it’s all right.”

  But it wasn’t all right. I whirled and held her away from me.

  “Eloise,” I said. “Who has the negatives?”