Part 27 (2/2)
”Then you don't count having a drink with him at the bar at Sammy's as socializing with him?”
”Of course, if I b.u.mped into him at a bar, I would have a drink with him, Mr. MacKingsley.”
”I see. When was the last time you spoke with him?”
”Yesterday afternoon, around three o'clock.”
”And what was the reason for the call?”
”We had a good laugh over the joke he pulled on me.”
”What was that joke, Mr. Cartwright?”
”A few days ago Zach went over to my town house development in Madison and told my sales rep that I was giving him the model unit. We had a bet on the YankeeRed Sox game, and he had kidded me that if the Red Sox won by more than ten runs, I would have to give him a unit.”
”That's not what he told your sales rep,” Jeff said. ”He told her that he had saved your life.”
”He was joking.”
”When was the last time you saw Zach?”
”Yesterday, around noon.”
”Where did you see him?”
”At the Was.h.i.+ngton Valley stables.”
”Did you have a quarrel with him?”
”I blew off a little steam. Because of his joke, we almost lost a sale of that town house. My rep took him seriously and told a couple who were interested in it that it was no longer available. I simply wanted to tell Zach that his joke went too far. But later that couple did come back and made an offer on the unit, so I called Zach up at three o'clock and apologized.”
”That's very odd, Mr. Cartwright,” Jeff said, ”because a witness heard Zach tell you that he didn't need the money the town house was worth because he had a better offer. Do you remember him saying that?”
”That wasn't the conversation we had,” Ted said mildly. ”You're mistaken, Mr. MacKingsley, as is your witness.”
”I don't think so. Mr. Cartwright, did you ever promise Henry Paley one hundred thousand dollars if he could persuade Georgette Grove to sell the property Georgette and Henry jointly owned on Route 24?”
”I had a business arrangement with Henry Paley.”
”Georgette was pretty much in your way, wasn't she, Mr. Cartwright?”
”Georgette had her way of doing things. I have mine.”
”Where were you on the morning of Wednesday, September 4th at about ten A.M.?”
”I was out for an early morning ride on my horse.”
”Weren't you on a trail that connects directly to the private trail in the woods behind the Holland Road house where Georgette died?”
”I do not ride on private trails.”
”Mr. Cartwright, did you know Will Barton?”
”Yes, I did. He was the first husband of my late wife, Audrey.”
”You were separated from your wife at the time of her death?”
”The evening of her death she had called me to discuss a reconciliation. We were very much in love. Her daughter, Liza, hated me because she didn't want anyone to replace her father, and she hated her mother for loving me.”
”Why did you and your wife separate, Mr. Cartwright?”
”The strain of Liza's antagonism became too much for Audrey. We only planned the separation to be temporary, until she could get psychological help for her troubled daughter.”
”You didn't separate because, when you were drunk one night, you confessed to Audrey Barton that you had killed her first husband?”
”Don't answer that, Ted,” Louis Buch ordered. He looked at Jeff and angrily stated, ”I thought we came here to talk about Zach Willet. I was never informed of other matters.”
”It's all right, Lou. No problem. I'll answer their questions.”
”Mr. Cartwright,” Jeff said, ”Audrey Barton was terrified of you. Her mistake was that she didn't go to the police. She was horrified at what it would do to her daughter to learn that you had killed her father so that Audrey could be free to marry you. But you were afraid, weren't you? You were afraid that Audrey would have the courage to go to the police one day. There was always some question about the gunshot that was heard at the time Will Barton's horse went over the cliff with him.”
”This is ridiculous,” Cartwright snapped.
”No, it's not. Zach Willet witnessed what you did to Will Barton. We found some very interesting evidence in Zach's apartment-a statement he had written about what he saw, plus he took a picture of your bullet where it hit a tree near the trail. He described what you did to Barton. He retrieved that bullet, and its casing, and kept them all these years. Let me read his statement to you.”
Jeff picked up Zach Willet's letter and read it with deliberate emphasis on the sentences describing Ted charging his horse into Will Barton's mare.
”That is a piece of fiction and inadmissible in court,” Louis Buch snapped.
”Zach's murder isn't a piece of fiction,” Jeff snapped. ”He was bleeding you for twenty-seven years and finally got so c.o.c.ksure of himself when he realized you killed Georgette Grove that he decided he ought to be taken care of on a higher scale.”
”I did not kill Georgette Grove or Zach Willet,” Cartwright said emphatically.
”Were you in Zach Willet's apartment yesterday?”
”No, I was not.”
Jeff looked past him. ”Angelo, will you ask Rap to come in?”
As they waited, Jeff said, ”Mr. Cartwright, as you can see, I have here the evidence you were searching for in Zach's apartment, the bullet and casing from the gun that you fired to terrify Will Barton's horse, and the pictures that show where and when it happened. You'd just won a prize with that gun, hadn't you? Later you donated it to the permanent collection of firearms at a Was.h.i.+ngton museum, didn't you? You couldn't quite bear to throw it out, but you didn't want it in your home because you knew Zach had retrieved the bullet that sent Will Barton to his death. I am subpoenaing that gun from the museum so that we can compare the bullet and casing to it. We should be able to determine definitively if that bullet and casing were fired from that gun.” Jeff looked up. ”Oh, here's Zach's landlady's son.”
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