He Done Her Wrong: A Toby Peters Mystery (Book Eight) (Toby Peters Mysteries) Read Online Free

Actually the night was over, too, and the sun was shining into the room at Mae West’s where I had been gently put to bed by Jeremy, who sat in a corner reading a book. I was wearing a pair of purple silk pajamas several dozen sizes too big, probably Dizzy or Daffy’s.
    “Jeremy.”
    He put his book away and moved to the bed. He was still dressed in the black sweater and pants of the night before.
    “Doctor saw you last night,” he said. “He was one of the guests. Said you would probably be all right, but that you should go in for X rays today. I’ll drive you.”
    “No X rays,” I said, sitting up with all the pain of a hangover. “I’m afraid of what they’ll find in the past. Besides, I’ve had more X rays than are good for a person in one lifetime.”
    “The arrow that kills one often comes from one’s own arrow sheath,” he said.
    “What does that mean?” I asked, reaching for his arm to help me up.
    “An African proverb,” he said, helping me. “I’ve been studying African poetry. When the war ends, I think there will be a great deal of poetry from Africa.”
    “My pants,” I said. He handed them to me, torn and only enough left of them to cover me till I got home. The jacket was a crumpled mess.
    “Shoes are still a little soggy,” he said. “Gun is in your glove compartment. I got it from the pool, cleaned and oiled it.”
    I took off the pajamas but hadn’t started to dress when Mae West came in wearing a purple silk robe with big white flowers on it. She didn’t hesitate or even turn her head at the sight of a naked private eye.
    “The world has used you for one big punching bag,” she marveled. “I’ve never seen a body like that.”
    “I’m leaving it to Walter Reed Hospital for research on human abuse.”
    “I’ll bet each one of those scars tells quite a story,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the door. “I can see you’re no gymnophile.”
    Too tired for modesty, I gave up on the idea of locating my shorts and painfully pulled on my trousers.
    “Half of them were presents from Phil,” I grunted, putting on my shirt and crumpled jacket. “The rest are souvenirs.”
    “The ones on your stomach?” she said.
    “In one side, out the other. One is the gift of a woman who will remain nameless, and the other from a crooked Chicago cop I don’t want to talk about.”
    I slumped back against the bed, and Jeremy reached down to grab my arm in case I fell. Mae West stepped forward to help.
    “I want to extend my thanks,” she said, “and whatever else you might want extended.”
    “Now now,” I said, taking a few deep breaths. “How about thirty bucks expenses and the cost of a new suit, twenty-two-fifty.”
    “Done,” she winked.
    “Nope,” I said, trying to stand and finding that I could actually manage it. “Don’t think this is going to be done till we cage that nut. He said something about a list. Do you know what he was talking about?”
    “Haven’t the slightest,” she said, letting her robe open slightly.
    “Said he was an engineer’s thumb,” I went on.
    Both Mae West and Jeremy looked blank.
    “Never mind. I have a feeling he’ll find us.” I took a few steps and found that it was possible. “I think I’ll drive back to L.A. with Jeremy. Can you have someone bring my car and drop it at my place?”
    “One of my boys will do it,” she said.,
    “Thanks.”
    “My pleasure. Come back and see me sometime.”
    I looked at her from the doorway.
    “You really use that line.”
    “Thought it would give you something to tell the boys about,” she laughed.
    “I’ll be in touch,” I said as we made it through the house to the distant chattering of the monkey.
    My brain proved it was still connected when I remembered to tell Jeremy to pull the groceries out of my trunk. I dozed off during the ride back to Hollywood, where Jeremy got me to my room on Heliotrope without being spotted by my landlady Mrs. Plaut. He deposited me