“Guy you need to talk to’s named Punchy MacKenzie,” Heebs told me between selling papers.
“Got his name ’cause he mixes whatever dribbles he finds in liquor bottles together to get him a drink. Doesn’t sound safe to me, what with TB and such.”
“You’re right about that.”
By the time I left the secondhand store, I’d lost sight of Perry. Whether he’d returned to the hotel or gone somewhere else, the purchase he’d just made was interesting enough. I’d decided if I took a cab back to the hotel parking lot and then drove, I could touch base with Heebs and still be back to watch for Szarenski, so I had.
“This Punchy sober enough of the time for me to trust what he says?” I asked.
Heebs grinned and paused to sell another paper. He dropped the pennies he’d gotten into his money pouch with fleeting disappointment. No tip.
“The kid that gave me his name says he is. Says Punchy usually tries to get fed at the soup kitchen on Fifth the other side of Bainbridge. The one by that church with the busted window. Gets in line around five.”
He conducted another business transaction. This time the customer let him keep the whole nickel. Thanked him, too.
“Look for a skinny guy with a gold tooth.” Heebs indicated an eyetooth. “He must be tough if nobody’s knocked it out to sell it, huh? You need a bodyguard?”
I stuffed the dollar I’d promised plus a little extra into his pocket and winked.
“That’s your prime time for selling the evening edition. I’ll manage. If anyone gets out of line, I’ll mention your name. That should make them back off.”
The sound of the kid’s laugh made my steps lighter as I walked away.
* * *
I’d parked my DeSoto in the hotel lot and was reaching to turn the ignition off when I spotted the count and his aide de camp leaving the hotel. I thanked whatever saints might still listen to me that I hadn’t missed them. Once the two were safely past, I got out and followed.
This round of fox and hound moved more slowly than the one with Nick Perry. Count Szarenski had a cane, but he didn’t lean on it much. He merely moved with deliberation.
The positions of the pair interested me. Bartoz walked one step behind the older man and at his right elbow. Close enough to exchange a few words, but not like equals. Was it some remnant of their culture? Or... was Bartoz protecting the old man? I realized he was making frequent checks of their surroundings, albeit subtly.
Their activities weren’t the kind ordinarily associated with danger. They went to a bank. I watched through the window. As nearly as I could tell, no money changed hands. Their next stop was the post office. Even if I got out my hat and shopping bag, the chance of being recognized was too great for me to risk following.
A woman with a seamed face started up the steps. She had some unstamped letters in her hand. I touched her sleeve.
“Excuse me. That fellow with the cane who just went in, he’s my uncle. If he picks up a package it’s going to spoil the surprise we’ve got planned for his birthday. If I wait over there, could you let me know if he does?”
She nodded and smiled.
A short time later Szarenski and Bartoz came out. I was well past the entrance, turned away and pretending to powder my nose so I could use the mirror in the lid of my compact to watch. The count’s shoulders looked to me like they were slumped. When the pair had gone on, I snapped the compact closed and went inside.
The woman I’d talked to was folding half a dozen stamps she’d bought into a piece of Cut-Rite. She noticed me and her eyes twinkled in conspiracy.
“He went to the counter. I think he asked about mail, but they didn’t give him anything.”
“Oh, good.” I puffed out my cheeks, dramatizing relief. “The party’s not spoiled, then.”
* * *
Count Szarenski was waiting for something. That was my guess if he was making these same stops every morning, which, judging by the schedule Tucker had described, he was.
Package?
Letter?
Maybe. Except...
The only thing you got at a bank was money.
Nick Perry, on the other hand, had picked up a rhinestone bracelet on his morning rambles. Could the two men be allied in some way I was missing? Or were they two different trains on parallel tracks?
I wanted to find out more about Perry. I wanted to find out more about Count Szarenski. And I knew a woman who could probably do a pretty good job of wrecking trains.