Part 10 (1/2)
”Who says so?”
”I do, and I'm sure the doctor would concur.”
”Naturally G.o.dwin says what his patients pay him to say. I've had trouble with him before.”
”I know that.” Bradshaw had turned pale, but his voice was under rigid control. ”You're not a professional man, Sheriff, and I rather doubt that you understand Dr. G.o.dwin's code of ethics.”
Crane reddened under the insult. He couldn't think of anything to say. Bradshaw went on: ”I very seriously doubt that Mrs. Kincaid can or should be questioned at the present time. What's the point of it? If she had anything to hide, she wouldn't have rushed to the nearest detective with her dreadful news. I'm sure we don't want to subject the girl to cruel and unusual punishment, simply for doing her duty as a citizen.”
”What do you mean, cruel and unusual punishment? I'm not planning to third-degree her.”
”I hope and trust you're not planning to go near the child tonight. That would be cruel and unusual punishment in my opinion, Sheriff, and I believe I speak for informed opinion in this county.”
Crane opened his mouth to expostulate, perhaps realized the hopelessness of trying to outtalk Bradshaw, and shut it again. Bradshaw and I walked out unaccompanied. I said when we were out of hearing of the house: ”That was quite a job you did of facing down the Sheriff.”
”I've always disliked that bl.u.s.tering bag of wind. Fortunately he's vulnerable. His majority slipped badly in the last election. A great many people in this county, including Dr. G.o.dwin and myself, would like to see more enlightened and efficient law enforcement. And we may get it yet.”
Nothing had changed visibly in the gatehouse. Dolly was still lying on the studio bed with her face turned to the wall. Bradshaw and I hesitated at the door. Walking with his head down, Alex crossed the room to speak to us.
”Dr. G.o.dwin went up to the house to make a phone call. He thinks she ought to be in a nursing home, temporarily.”
Dolly spoke in a monotone: ”I know what you're saying. You might as well say it out loud. You want to put me away.”
”Hush, darling.” It was a brave word.
The girl relapsed into silence. She hadn't moved at all. Alex drew us outside, keeping the door open so that he could watch her. He said in a low voice: ”Dr. G.o.dwin doesn't want to run the risk of suicide.”
”It's that bad, eh?” I said.
”_I_ don't think so. Neither does Dr. G.o.dwin, really. He says it's simply a matter of taking reasonable security precautions. I told him I could sit up with her, but he doesn't think I should try to do it myself.”
”You shouldn't,” Bradshaw said. ”You'll need to have something left for tomorrow.”
”Yeah. Tomorrow.” Alex kicked at the rusty boot-sc.r.a.per attached to the side of the doorstep. ”I better call Dad. Tomorrow's a Sat.u.r.day, he ought to be able to come.”
Footsteps approached from the direction of the main house. A big man in an alligator coat emerged from the fog, his bald head gleaming in the light from the doorway. He greeted Bradshaw warmly: ”h.e.l.lo, Roy. I enjoyed your speech, what I heard of it. You'll elevate us yet into the Athens of the West. Unfortunately a patient dragged me out in the middle of it. She wanted to know if it was safe for her to see a Tennessee Williams movie all by herself. She really wanted me to go along with her and protect her from bad thoughts.” He turned to me. ”Mr. Archer? I'm Dr. G.o.dwin.”
We shook hands. He gave me a look of lingering intensity, as if he was going to paint my portrait from memory. G.o.dwin had a heavy, powerful face, with eyes that changed from bright to dark like lamps being turned down. He had authority, which he was being careful not to use.
”I'm glad you called me. Miss McGee--Mrs. Kincaid needed something to calm her down.” He glanced in through the doorway. ”I hope she's feeling better now.”
”She's much quieter,” Alex said. ”Don't you think it will be all right for her to stay here with me?”
G.o.dwin made a commiserating face. His mouth was very flexible, like an actor's. ”It wouldn't be wise, Mr. Kincaid. I've made arrangements for a bed in a nursing home I use. We don't want to take any chances with her life.”
”But why should she try to kill herself?”
”She has a lot on her mind, poor girl. I always pay attention to suicide threats, or even the slightest hint of them.”
”Have you found out just what she does have on her mind?” Bradshaw said.
”She didn't want to talk much. She's very tired. It can wait till morning.”
”I hope so,” Bradshaw said. ”The Sheriff wants to question her about the shooting. I did my best to hold him off.”
G.o.dwin's mobile face became grave. ”There actually has been a murder then? Another murder?”
”One of our new professors, Helen Haggerty, was shot in her home tonight. Mrs. Kincaid apparently stumbled on the body.”
”She's had dreadful luck.” G.o.dwin looked up at the low sky. ”I sometimes feel as though the G.o.ds have turned their backs on certain people.”
I asked him to explain what he meant. He shook his head: ”I'm much too tired to tell you the b.l.o.o.d.y saga of the McGees. A lot of it has faded out of my memory, mercifully. Why don't you ask the courthouse people for the details?”
”That wouldn't be a good idea, under the circ.u.mstances.”
”It wouldn't, would it? You can see how tired I am. By the time I get my patient safely disposed of for the night I'll have just enough energy left to make it home and to bed.”
”We still need to talk, doctor.”
”What about?”
I didn't like to say it in front of Alex but I said it, watching him: ”The possibility that she committed this second murder, or let's say the possibility that she'll be accused of it. She seems to want to be.”
Alex rose to her defense: ”She was out of her head, temporarily, and you can't use what she said--”
G.o.dwin laid a hand on his shoulder. ”Take it easy, Mr. Kincaid. We can't settle anything now. What we all need is a night's sleep--especially your wife. I want you to come along with me to the nursing home in case I need help with her on the way. You,” he said to me, ”can follow along in your car and bring him back. You'll want to know where the nursing home is, anyway, because I'll meet you there tomorrow morning at eight, after I've had an opportunity to talk to Mrs. Kincaid. Got that?”
”Tomorrow morning at eight.”
He turned to Bradshaw. ”Roy, if I were you I'd go and see how Mrs. Bradshaw is feeling. I gave her a sedative, but she's alarmed. She thinks, or pretends to think, that she's surrounded by maniacal a.s.sa.s.sins. You can talk her out of it better than I could.”
G.o.dwin seemed to be a wise and careful man. At any rate, his authority imposed itself. All three of us did as he said.
So did Dolly. Propped between him and Alex, she came out to his car. She didn't struggle or make a sound, but she walked as though she was on her way to the execution chamber.
chapter 10.
An hour later I was sitting on one of the twin beds in my motel room. There was nothing more I could do right now, except possibly stir up trouble if I went for information to the local authorities. But my mind kept projecting on the plaster wall rapid movies of actions I could be performing. Run down Begley-McGee. Capture the man from Nevada.
I shut off the violent images with an effort of will and forced myself to think about Zeno, who said that Achilles could never traverse the s.p.a.ce between him and the tortoise. It was a soothing thought, if you were a tortoise, or maybe even if you were Achilles.
I had a pint of whisky in my bag. I was getting it out of its sock when I thought of Arnie Walters, a Reno colleague of mine who had split more than one pint with me. I put in a long-distance call to his office, which happened to be the front room of his house. Arnie was at home.
”Walters Detective Agency,” he said in a reluctant midnight voice.
”This is Lew Archer.”