April Evil by John D. MacDonald

could hear the child laugh.
    He walked back and located the corner where he would be picked up. He spent the rest of the day in the movies.
    At ten fifteen on Wednesday morning, Mooney was sitting beside Lennie Parks as she drove down the narrow street toward Dr. Tomlin’s stone house. He felt nervous and irritable. Lennie, in a pale blue blouse and white skirt, was calm, casual, impersonal.
    “You sure this won’t seem funny?” he asked.
    “Not in the least.”
    The big iron gates were closed. Lennie parked the car beyond the gates and they got out. She pushed the bell button set into the gate post. They saw Arnold Addams coming down from the house, wearing a white jacket.
    “Good morning, Mrs. Parks,” he said as he unlocked the gate.
    “Good morning, Arnold. Is Uncle Paul around?”
    “He having coffee with Miss Laurie out on the back terrace. You can go right on around, I guess.”
    Mooney followed her closely as they went around the house. A tall severe-looking old man sat at a shaded table with a sturdy, pretty girl. They both looked up as Mooney and Lennie approached. Mooney decided the old man looked very unfriendly. The girl got up quickly and the old man got upwith the slow stiffness of age.
    “Hello, Uncle Paul. Hello, Laurie,” Lennie said brightly and cheerfully. “This is Mr. Mooney. Doctor Tomlin, Mrs. Preston.”
    The doctor’s hand had a cool papery feel.
    Mooney paid particular attention to the doctor’s voice. It was slow and deep, the words carefully enunciated. There was a slight quaver of age.
    “That coffee looks good,” Lennie said disarmingly.
    “I’ll bring some,” the girl said and hurried off.
    “Please sit down,” the doctor said, no warmth in his voice. They sat at the table with him. Lennie took her cigarettes from her purse.
    “Mr. Mooney works for Dil,” Lennie said. “I’ve borrowed him today. I’m afraid this is very boring for him, carting me around. I’m soliciting contributions for the Community Concert series.”
    “And you’ve come to me, Lenora?” There was an undercurrent of sour amusement in the old man’s voice.
    “I know how you feel about such things, Uncle Paul, but there’s no harm in trying, is there?”
    “Just a waste of time and motion.”
    Lennie made a face. “So all I get is coffee.”
    Laurie Preston brought cups and saucers and a fresh pot of coffee. Mooney wanted to hear the old man talk some more. “Lovely grounds you have here inside your wall, sir.”
    “Give credit to Laurie. She has the touch. Lenora said you work for Dillon?”
    “I sell cars for him.”
    “I imagine you are an excellent salesman.”
    “I’ve done it for quite a few years. Why would you think I’d be a good salesman?”
    “You carry yourself so confidently. And you seem to be observant.”
    Mooney felt more at ease. “Observant enough, sir, to see the front end of that car in the garage. The old black Packard. What is it? Nineteen thirty-nine?”
    “Thirty-eight. It’s been a little over a hundred and twenty thousand miles.”
    “We couldn’t give you much on a trade, Doctor. But don’t you think it’s about time?”
    “I have no intention of trading it. None whatsoever,” the old man said coldly.
    Mooney smiled. “As Mrs. Parks just said, no harm in trying.”
    Laurie and Lenora made light conversation in the manner of two women who barely know each other and do not care for each other. Soon the coffee was finished and they left. Arnold let them back out the gate. They got into the car and Lennie drove away.
    “That old gent is crazy like a fox.”
    “He ought to be put away.”
    “Who are you trying to kid, Lennie?”
    “He’s taken those Prestons in. Who are they? You should see Joe Preston. A complete nothing.”
    “The girl seems nice.”
    “If you go for that type. She’s a peasant. They’re a pair of adventurers. I can’t understand why he took them in. He isn’t competent to protect himself from a pair like that.”
    “Maybe