“That’s okay, baby. Have your pipe-dreams. They don’t hurt me,” he said, opened the door and looked out. “Come on. I’ve got to get Hoppie up.”
There was no commotion from the opposite bathroom as I walked down the corridor. The bath had done me good. If there had been a chance to get past that door I would have taken it. But I was already making up my mind I would have to be very patient. I purposely walked slowly, leaning on Bland’s arm. The weaker he thought me, the more I would surprise him when it came to a showdown.
I got into bed and meekly allowed him to lock the handcuff.
Hopper said he didn’t want a bath.
“Now, baby, that’s no way to act,” Bland said reprovingly. “You gotta look smart this morning. There’s an official visit at eleven o’clock. Coroner Lessways is coming to talk to you.” He glanced at me and grinned. “And he’ll talk to you, too. Every month the city councilmen come around to see the nuts. Not that they pay a lot of attention to what the nuts tell them, but they come, and sometimes they even listen. But don’t give them that stuff about murder, baby. They’ve heard it all. To them you’re just another nut along with a lotta nuts, and it won’t do you any good.”
He persuaded Hopper to get out of bed, and they went off together to the bathroom. That left me alone. I lay in the bed, staring at the six sharp-etched lines on the opposite walls and used my head. So Coroner Lessways was coming. Well, that was something. As Bland had said there wasn’t much point in my telling Lessways that Salzer was responsible for Eudora Drew’s killing. It was too far-fetched; too unbelievable, but if I had the chance I might give him something to chew on. For the first time since I had been in this trap I felt a little more hopeful.
I looked up suddenly to see the door slowly open. There was no one in sight. The door swung right open and remained open. I leaned forward to look into the empty corridor, thinking at first the wind had opened the door, but remembered the latch had clicked shut when Bland and Hopper had left the room.
I waited, staring at the open door, and listened. Nothing happened. I heard nothing, and because I knew someone had opened the door I felt suddenly spooked.
After what seemed an age I heard a rustle of paper. In the acute silence it sounded like a thunder clap. Then I saw a movement, and a woman came into sight.
She stood in the doorway, a paper sack in one hand, a vacant, unintelligent expression in her washed-out eyes. She regarded me steadily with no more interest than if I was a piece of furniture, and her hand groped blindly in the sack. Yes, it was her all right: the plum-eating woman, and what was more, she was still eating plums.