didn’t take the car out. The
fender’s dented and there was blood on it. If they type that blood
with Allen’s and find it’s the same, they’ve got the car. I know I
didn’t do it. Why would anybody want to say I did?”
Leda’s lips were damp and her eyes glistened,
her lids heavy as always. Her hair was moist from the rain. She
touched my arm. “Eric, whatever it is, it can be explained. I’m
sure of that. I didn’t have the car and neither did you. So there’s
nothing to worry about. I just keep wondering about—”
“ What?”
“ Nothing.”
“ It was the same man. I know
it.”
“ Darling, you’re excited and tired.
Thinking of your dreams too much. You get back to the cabin, go to
bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
I looked down the stairs toward Redfern and
Hartly. Redfern motioned. “Come on, Garth.”
I nodded at Leda. “Sure—home and bed. That’s a
long way off, baby, and I know it. You better learn it now. There’s
plenty of explaining to do. All I can see is I’m framed for
something I had no hand in. It’s more than just a mistake. Don’t
you see?” And somebody had moved that car—but I couldn’t prove
that, either.
She took my arm. “Come on, let’s go,” she
said. “See if we can’t find what it’s all about.”
We went down the stairs and joined
Redfern.
“ Look,” Leda said. “My husband—”
she glanced quickly at me, “isn’t well. He’s a war veteran. Just
left a hospital in California. We’re going to his home in Florida.
He needs rest. This excitement is the worst possible thing that can
happen to him.”
“ Doesn’t look sick to me,” Hartly
said.
“ Something the matter with him
upstairs?” Redfern said.
I glanced at Leda. “Never mind.” I didn’t want
her to start talking about that. Could be it would make things
worse. This was bad enough.
Hartly watched the tight fleshy way of Leda’s
hips as she walked down the stairs ahead of us. I glared at him. He
turned to me and winked.
Police headquarters was downstairs in the
courthouse. The officer in charge of the desk, Lieutenant Morgan,
was alone in the room of many sins. A row of lockers sloped against
the far wall and there was a low bench at the back. The desk itself
was on a small platform behind which a steel door with a small
barred window shielded the cell block.
Hartly closed the door against the rain and we
stood there dripping. The other cop had remained with the car. Leda
seemed the least affected, but she was pale and her hands worked
together.
Redfern said, “Here we are. A good night for a
murder, too.” He glanced at me shrewdly. “One thing I hate’s a
hit-and-run.”
Lieutenant Morgan rested an elbow on the desk,
planed fingers above his eyes, and stared at us. The fingers of his
left hand drummed on the desk blotter. He had a long thin face with
bad teeth and dark eyes beneath his blue cap. He took off the cap,
laid it on the desk. He was bald save for a fringe of brown hair
above his ears. His nose was bulbous and looked wormy.
Hartly stepped up, put one hand against the
desk, and told Morgan the story. “This is Mrs. Garth,” he finished.
“She claims she was in town, too. She knows nothing of her
husband’s whereabouts at the time of the accident.”
“ I do,” Leda said. “He was asleep
in our cabin.”
“ Are you sure? Did you see your
husband sleeping?” When Morgan spoke, he expelled a great deal of
air with each word, like a dry whistle. “You really can’t be sure
of anything, Mrs. Garth. From what Officer Hartly says, you all
were in the lunchroom after Hartly returned. You didn’t go to the
cabin as you didn’t wish to disturb your husband.”
“ This is all rot,” I said. “You
know it’s rot!”
“ Is that right?” Morgan said. “Can
you prove you were in the cabin?”
“ I was there, that’s
all.”
Morgan lifted a sheet of paper from his desk.
Redfern slumped on the bench at the back of the room. I could
fender’s dented and there was blood on it. If they type that blood
with Allen’s and find it’s the same, they’ve got the car. I know I
didn’t do it. Why would anybody want to say I did?”
Leda’s lips were damp and her eyes glistened,
her lids heavy as always. Her hair was moist from the rain. She
touched my arm. “Eric, whatever it is, it can be explained. I’m
sure of that. I didn’t have the car and neither did you. So there’s
nothing to worry about. I just keep wondering about—”
“ What?”
“ Nothing.”
“ It was the same man. I know
it.”
“ Darling, you’re excited and tired.
Thinking of your dreams too much. You get back to the cabin, go to
bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
I looked down the stairs toward Redfern and
Hartly. Redfern motioned. “Come on, Garth.”
I nodded at Leda. “Sure—home and bed. That’s a
long way off, baby, and I know it. You better learn it now. There’s
plenty of explaining to do. All I can see is I’m framed for
something I had no hand in. It’s more than just a mistake. Don’t
you see?” And somebody had moved that car—but I couldn’t prove
that, either.
She took my arm. “Come on, let’s go,” she
said. “See if we can’t find what it’s all about.”
We went down the stairs and joined
Redfern.
“ Look,” Leda said. “My husband—”
she glanced quickly at me, “isn’t well. He’s a war veteran. Just
left a hospital in California. We’re going to his home in Florida.
He needs rest. This excitement is the worst possible thing that can
happen to him.”
“ Doesn’t look sick to me,” Hartly
said.
“ Something the matter with him
upstairs?” Redfern said.
I glanced at Leda. “Never mind.” I didn’t want
her to start talking about that. Could be it would make things
worse. This was bad enough.
Hartly watched the tight fleshy way of Leda’s
hips as she walked down the stairs ahead of us. I glared at him. He
turned to me and winked.
Police headquarters was downstairs in the
courthouse. The officer in charge of the desk, Lieutenant Morgan,
was alone in the room of many sins. A row of lockers sloped against
the far wall and there was a low bench at the back. The desk itself
was on a small platform behind which a steel door with a small
barred window shielded the cell block.
Hartly closed the door against the rain and we
stood there dripping. The other cop had remained with the car. Leda
seemed the least affected, but she was pale and her hands worked
together.
Redfern said, “Here we are. A good night for a
murder, too.” He glanced at me shrewdly. “One thing I hate’s a
hit-and-run.”
Lieutenant Morgan rested an elbow on the desk,
planed fingers above his eyes, and stared at us. The fingers of his
left hand drummed on the desk blotter. He had a long thin face with
bad teeth and dark eyes beneath his blue cap. He took off the cap,
laid it on the desk. He was bald save for a fringe of brown hair
above his ears. His nose was bulbous and looked wormy.
Hartly stepped up, put one hand against the
desk, and told Morgan the story. “This is Mrs. Garth,” he finished.
“She claims she was in town, too. She knows nothing of her
husband’s whereabouts at the time of the accident.”
“ I do,” Leda said. “He was asleep
in our cabin.”
“ Are you sure? Did you see your
husband sleeping?” When Morgan spoke, he expelled a great deal of
air with each word, like a dry whistle. “You really can’t be sure
of anything, Mrs. Garth. From what Officer Hartly says, you all
were in the lunchroom after Hartly returned. You didn’t go to the
cabin as you didn’t wish to disturb your husband.”
“ This is all rot,” I said. “You
know it’s rot!”
“ Is that right?” Morgan said. “Can
you prove you were in the cabin?”
“ I was there, that’s
all.”
Morgan lifted a sheet of paper from his desk.
Redfern slumped on the bench at the back of the room. I could
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