Part 21 (1/2)
”Oh, stop it, Rhoda. You're avoiding the issue.”
”All right. I still maintain I have a right to change my mind, but in making it all seem completely unnatural you neglected to mention _why_ you changed yours. Because a man named Brent Taber slapped your wrist like a little boy and scared you. It wasn't my influence that turned you around and started you walking the other way. It was a _big_ man from Was.h.i.+ngton who said naughty, naughty and suddenly you were a nice little intern again, afraid to ask questions.”
”It was more dangerous than you know, Rhoda.”
”Oh, I'm sure it was. Do you want another drink?”
”No.” Frank looked out the window and scowled. ”Rhoda, there was something I didn't tell you about that affair.”
”Was there? I'll bet you told Brent Taber, though.”
”It was what brought Brent Taber into it. There was a murder in my room.”
”And when Brent Taber came on the scene--” Rhoda stopped and stared down at him. ”What did you say?”
”A man was killed in my room. The man with the broken leg. He didn't just go on his way, as I told you; he got his throat cut in my room.”
Rhoda continued to stare. ”And you didn't tell me about it.”
”Brent Taber told me to keep my mouth shut.”
”I suppose if Brent Taber had said, 'I don't want you to see that woman again,' you wouldn't even have dropped around to say good-bye.”
”Rhoda--you're being unreasonable.”
”Unreasonable to expect the man who says he loves me to confide in me?”
”All right. I was wrong. What happened is this: When William Matson was ready to leave Park Hill, he had no place to go, so I took him down to my room. I went back to the hospital and Les King contacted me. He said William Matson was really a man named Sam Baker who'd disappeared from his home in upstate New York ten years ago. We went down to see him and found him sitting in a chair with his throat cut.”
”You've been involved in a murder and you didn't say a single, solitary word--”
”Rhoda! I said I was sorry.”
”I didn't see anything about it in the papers. I'm sure it wasn't on any of the newscasts.”
”Of course, it wasn't. The police didn't even question me. I called the police and they came--two prowl-car men. Then they told Les and me to wait. We waited, and after a while this Brent Taber came in. He told us to go home and keep our mouths shut. Later, we were called downtown and Taber talked to us.”
”He told you to go home,” Rhoda said sarcastically. ”You also said the man was killed in your room. Just where is your home, Mr. Corson?”
”I came here, Rhoda. I spent that night here.”
”With a possible murder charge hanging over your head, you came here and didn't say a word!”
Frank sprang up from the couch and turned, scowling. ”G.o.dd.a.m.n it! Don't you believe me? Do you think I'm lying?”
”I don't know what to believe. I just feel--betrayed. But something else is more important.”
”What?”
”You acted like a child. Just because some man appeared out of nowhere, you said _Yes, sir_ and _No, sir_ and _Sorry, sir_ and walked away.