Part 13 (1/2)
”Shut up!” Her voice cracked out suddenly like a whip. ”Listen to me, Henry! The sheriff called here a few minutes ago. I was positive you were up to something foolish, staying away like this, so I didn't tell him you weren't here. I said you were taking a bath, and you'd have to call him back. Now-”
”B-but why?” My stomach was sinking; it was oozing right down into my shoes. ”W-what d-does-”
”You know why, what! Going out there so drunk you- you- You killed her, understand! Luane's dead!”
Doctor Jim Ashton arrived at the Devore place right behind me, and we went in the house together. Jim looked pretty drawn, sickish. Surprisingly-or maybe it wasn't surprising-I'd never felt better or more self-confident in my life. I'd been kind of set back on my heels for a second, but I snapped right out of it. The fogginess washed out of my mind, taking all of the old foggy unsureness with it. I had a keyed-up, coiled-tight feeling, and yet I was perfectly at ease.
Sheriff Jameson and a couple of his deputies were inside. I talked to Jameson, and then I went into the living room and talked to Ralph Devore. He appeared a little stunned, but not greatly upset. He answered all my questions promptly and lucidly. And-I should add-most satisfactorily. I clapped him on the back, offered him my condolences and told him not to worry about a thing. Then, I went back out into the hall.
Luane Devore lay at the foot of the stairs in her nightgown. Although she was sprawled on her stomach, her legs back up on the steps, her head was twisted completely around so that her face was turned upward. Her lips were bruised and swollen, smeared with drying blood. There were several other bad bruises on her face and, of course, her neck was broken.
Jim finished his examination, and we stepped into the dining room to confer. I told him about Ralph, why Ralph had to be completely above any suspicion. He was pretty startled, naturally-I had been myself when I saw the proof of Ralph's innocence. But, then, he shrugged and nodded.
”I'd call it an accident myself,” he said. ”That's a long fall from the top of those stairs. A fall like that could easily have bruised her up much more than she is. Of course, when someone has lived in hot water all her life, you hardly expect her to die of chilblains, but . . .”
I laughed. I said it was odd that an accident should get her when so many people had motives for doing so. But there it was, wasn't it? He said it was an accident. I said it was. So did the sheriff. That made it an accident, and anyone would have a h.e.l.l of a time proving that it wasn't.
I laughed again. He gave me an odd, searching look. I hesitated-my laugh had sounded pretty loud, I guess- and then I asked him what was on his mind.
”Well-uh-nothing.” He frowned uncomfortably. ”You were . . . the sheriff reached you at home tonight?”
”Why, yes,” I said. ”What of it?”
”Nothing. Lily was there with you, I suppose? Well-” He shook his head. ”That's good. I'm glad to hear it. And Bobbie's out with the Pavlov girl-and I'm glad of that, for once. But . . .”
”Oh,” I said slowly, as if I was just beginning to see what he meant. ”Look, Jim. Don't take this the wrong way, but where were you-”
”Quiet!” he said sharply. ”I don't want to talk about it here.”
”But, look,” I said. ”The time of death can't be fixed absolutely. So whether you-”
”I said I didn't want to talk about it here!” he snapped. ”Can you meet me down in front of the courthouse in about fifteen minutes?”
”Why, sure,” I said. ”Even sooner. But-”
”Good! Do it, then.”
He left. I went back out into the hall.
The nearest undertaking service was thirty miles away, so it would be some time before Luane's body could be removed. Sheriff Jameson agreed to stick around until the job was over; also to see that Ralph was taken care of comfortably for the night. He had one of his deputies put a couple of things of Ralph's into my car-things I was taking custody of temporarily-and then I left for town.
Jim Ashton was parked in front of the courthouse. He got out of his car as I drove up, started talking while I was still climbing out of mine.
”You asked me a question about fixing the time of death, Hank. Here's the answer. When a fatality is discovered as quickly as this one was, you can come d.a.m.ned close to fixing the time it occurred. Oh, you can't pin it down to a matter of minutes and seconds, but you can place it within a very narrow period. And, Hank, I can't account for my time during that period in this case!”
”But it was an accident,” I said. ”Anyway, you're not the only one who-”
”Who else is there? My son is in the clear. You and Lily are. Ralph is. There's that girl he's been chasing around with, of course, but if he's out of the picture she just about has to be, too. Anyway, she's in a lot better spot than I am. And, d.a.m.n her, it's her fault that I'm-but, let it go. The time of Luane's death can be placed within a certain period, and everyone but me can-”
”Just a minute.” I put a hand on his arm. ”Calm down, Jim. You were the one who examined Luane. What's to stop you from saying she died during a period that you can account for?”
He looked at me blankly. Jim's supposed to be a very intelligent man-and I'm sure he is-but he certainly couldn't keep up with me tonight. No one could have.
”Oh,” he said, at last. ”Why, yes, I guess I could, couldn't I?”
”Why not?” I winked and nudged him. ”What's to stop you?”
A relieved smile spread over his face. Then he glanced over my shoulder, and the smile went away.
”There,” he nodded grimly, and I turned around and looked. ”That's what's to stop me!”
I'd expected Kossmeyer to be tipped off, and I knew he'd move fast as soon as he was. But I hadn't thought he would move this fast. And I hadn't planned on his doing what he had done-or, rather, what he was preparing to do.
His convertible was just about in the middle of the block, opposite us. Just pa.s.sing under a streetlight. We could see him plain as day, and the man he had with him. The doctor who sometimes came here from out of town.
They pa.s.sed on by, took the road that led toward the Devore place. Jim sighed and said, well, that was that, he guessed.
I told him I was sure everything would work out all right, but it didn't seem to help much. He drove away, still looking mighty sickish, and I took the stuff out of my car and carried it up to my office.
I was feeling a mite let-down myself. Kind of, you know, like someone had given me a little punch in the stomach. And it wasn't because I was worried about Jim. Jim hadn't killed Luane, I was positive of it. So unless he confessed- and I doubted if even Kossmeyer could break Jim Ashton down-he couldn't be convicted. He could be put to plenty of grief, of course; so much that he might just about as well be guilty as innocent. But- Dammit, he almost deserved to be. If he hadn't been so careless or unlucky or dumb or something, I'd have had Kossmeyer against a stone wall. I could have put that little louse in his place, and made him like it.
I cussed, and took a kick at my wastebasket. I got busy on the telephone, trying to make the best of the situation. About thirty minutes pa.s.sed. I'd just hung up after a call when the phone rang.
It was Jim. He had an alibi for the time of Luane's death, after all. Not only that, but the Lee girl also had one! They were each other's alibi!
I almost let out a war whoop when he told me the news. I think I would have if I hadn't glanced out the window and seen Kossmeyer coming up the walk.
I hung up the phone, thinking by G.o.d that this made everything perfect-h.e.l.l, better than perfect!
I listened, grinning, as Kossmeyer came up the steps and down the hall. As he neared the door, I wiped off my grin and stood up.
I was very polite to him. Oh, extremely. I said it was a great honor to have such a distinguished visitor, and that I would feel privileged to a.s.sist him in any poor way that I could.
He looked a little startled, then embarra.s.sed. Then, as he sat down across from me, he laughed sort of shyly. ”I'm sorry,” he said. ”I just supposed that since we knew each other so well, and since it's pretty common practice to call in an outside doctor-”
”I'm delighted that you did,” I said. ”Nothing could have pleased me more. Now, as long as you're taking such an extraordinary interest in the case-”
”Extraordinary? It's extraordinary to be interested in the death of a client?”
”If you please,” I said. ”Perhaps if you will not interrupt we can conclude our business quickly. Now, I have here a canvas sack containing approximately fifty-seven thousand dollars. It belongs to Ralph Devore, and here is conclusive proof in the form of a ledger. I think you'll agree with me that-”
”Sure, I will,” he nodded. ”I'd sure as h.e.l.l agree anyway that the guy could never be convicted. Luane couldn't have kept him from leaving her. He had no monetary motive for killing her. He was on the scene right about the time of her death, but-Yeah, counsellor? Go right ahead.”
Go right ahead? h.e.l.l, there was hardly anything to go ahead with! I'd been all set to surprise him; I'd had it all planned. Just how he'd look and what he'd say, and what I'd say and-and everything. And then that d.a.m.ned stupid Jameson or one of his deputies had had to spoil it all.
”Well,” I said, ”as long as you've already been told . . .”
”Ought to have known without being told.” He shook his head. ”Ought to have been able to guess how things stood. On the other hand, who'd've ever thought that a guy like Devore would have that kind of dough? Or any considerable sum?”