Undercurrent (The Nameless Detective) by Bill Pronzini

I said, "I wonder if I might talk to you for a few minutes? It's rather important."
    She looked at me steadily. "You're the man who found Walter Paige last night, aren't you? The private detective?"
    Her voice was cool and matter-of-fact, and it gave substance to her and destroyed some of the ephemeral quality. I said, "Yes, that's right."
    "I heard about it on the midnight news. Is that why you're here?"
    "Yes."
    "I expected someone would be, sooner or later," she said. "How did you get my name?"
    "From Russ Dancer."
    "Mmmm," she said without inflection.
    "There was an old paperback book of his among Paige's effects," I told her. "One called The Dead and the Dying . The police released it to me earlier today, and I followed up a hunch that led me to Dancer."
    "Now what would a man like Walt Paige be doing with one of Russ's books?"
    "That's one of the things I'd like to know."
    "Doesn't Russ have any idea?"
    "No, he doesn't."
    "I didn't even know Walt could read," she said, and smiled faintly. "Well, won't you come in?"
    "Thank you, Miss Winestock."
    "Beverly," she said. "I'm not quite an old maid, and Miss Winestock makes me sound like one."
    "Beverly," I said.
    She took me inside and down an arched hallway hung with Spanish murals and into a tile-floored parlor, darkly furnished. There, she asked, "Would you like a drink? I think we have some beer and wine in the refrigerator; we're out of anything stronger at the moment, I'm afraid."
    "Nothing, thanks."
    I sat down on a tapestried-cloth sofa and she took the chair across from me and crossed her ankles and smoothed her hands along her upper thighs in a gesture that was sensual and yet seemingly unaffected. I kept my eyes on her face as she said, "There's not very much I can tell you about Walt Paige. I didn't know that he was back in Cypress Bay, and I wouldn't have cared if I had. And I have no idea who could have killed him, though God knows, enough people might have had justification. He was a thorough bastard, you know."
    "So I've learned," I said. "How well did you know him when he lived here originally?"
    "Not as well as he would have liked."
    "Did you ever talk to him about personal matters?"
    The faint smile again. "His or mine?"
    "His."
    "Not really. Russ told you about our group, didn't he?"
    "Yes."
    "Well, we were a winy bunch. Laughter and liquor, and never a serious moment. At least, not while the group was together. And that's the only place I ever saw Walt Paige, though he tried to change that enough times."
    "Do you have any idea who he might have been involved with?"
    "Who he was sleeping with, you mean?"
    "Well—yes."
    "Half the women in Cypress Bay and vicinity, no doubt. He had no morals, and general tastes."
    "Any one woman more than another?"
    "If so, I never knew about it."
    "How about Robin Lomax—or Tolliver at that time?"
    Beverly laughed softly; it was the kind of laugh that put cool fingers on your spine and made you think of warm, dark bedrooms. She said, "I doubt it. Robin was hardly a virgin when she married Jason Lomax, although she'd like everybody to think so; but she was more or less going with Jason when Walt Paige was here, and she paid no more attention to Walt than I did. I think we both saw him for exactly what he was."
    "I see."
    "Do the police think it was a woman who killed him? Is that why you're asking about his former love life?"
    "There's a good possibility of it," I said. "He was seeing a woman here in Cypress Bay recently."
    "Are there any clues as to who she is?"
    "Not at the moment."
    "What makes you think she's someone he knew six years ago? Passions cool considerably in six years—unless, of course, he was seeing her fairly regularly since then."
    "He didn't see her for at least four years, except maybe on visitors' day."
    "I don't think I understand."
    "Walter Paige spent four years for burglary in San Quentin," I said. "He was released five months ago."
    She frowned deeply. "I didn't know that."
    "Does it surprise