Judd. “Someone tried to kill me.” His voice was weak and shaky.
“Who?” asked Angeli.
“I don’t know, but it all fits in.” He turned to McGreavy. “The killers weren’t after John Hanson or Carol. They were after me.”
McGreavy looked at him in surprise. “What makes you think so?”
“Hanson was killed because he was wearing my yellow slicker. They must have seen me go into my building wearing that coat. When Hanson came out of my office wearing it, they mistook him for me.”
“That’s possible,” said Angeli.
“Sure,” said McGreavy. He turned to Judd. “And when they learned that they had killed the wrong man, they came into your office and tore your clothes off and found out you were really a little colored girl, and they got so mad they beat you to death.”
“Carol was killed because they found her there when they came to get me,” Judd said.
McGreavy reached in his overcoat pocket and took out some notes. “I just talked to the captain of the precinct where the accident happened.”
“It was no accident.”
“According to the police report, you were jaywalking.”
Judd stared at him. “Jaywalking?” he repeated weakly.
“You crossed in the middle of the street, Doctor.”
“There were no cars so I—”
“There was a car,” McGreavy corrected. “Only you didn’t see it. It was snowing and the visibility was lousy. You stepped out of nowhere. The driver put on his brakes, went into a skid, and hit you. Then he panicked and drove away.” “That’s not the way it happened and his headlights were off.”
“And you think that’s evidence that he killed Hanson and Carol Roberts?”
“Someone tried to kill me,” repeated Judd insistently.
McGreavy shook his head. “It won’t work, Doctor.”
“What won’t work?” asked Judd.
“Did you really expect me to start beating the bushes for some mythical killer while you take the heat off yourself?” His voice was suddenly hard. “Did you know your receptionist was pregnant?”
Judd closed his eyes and let his head sink back on the pillow. So that was what Carol had wanted to speak to him about. He had half-guessed. And now McGreavy would think…He opened his eyes. “No,” he said wearily. “I didn’t.”
Judd’s head began pounding again. The pain was returning. He swallowed to fight off the nausea that engulfed him. He wanted to ring for the nurse, but he was damned if he would give McGreavy the satisfaction.
“I went through the records at City Hall,” said McGreavy. “What would you say if I told you that your cute little pregnant receptionist had been a hooker before she went to work for you?” The pounding in Judd’s head was becoming steadily worse. “Were you aware f that, Dr. Stevens? You don’t have to answer. I’ll answer for you. You knew it because you picked her up in night court four years ago, when she was arrested on a charge of soliciting. Now isn’t it a little far-outfor a respectable doctor to hire a hooker as a receptionist in a high-class office?”
“No one is born a hooker,” said Judd. “I was trying to help a sixteen-year-old child have a chance at life.”
“And get yourself a little free black tail on the side?”
“You dirty-minded bastard!”
McGreavy smiled without mirth. “Where did you take Carol after you found her in night court?”
“To my apartment.”
“And she slept there?”
“Yes.”
McGreavy grinned. “You’re a beauty! You picked up a good-looking young whore in night court and took her to your apartment to spend the night. What were you looking for—a chess partner? If you really didn’t sleep with her, there’s a damn good chance you’re a homosexual. And guess who that ties you in with? Right. John Hanson. If you did sleep with Carol, then the chances are pretty good that you continued sleeping with her until you finally got her knocked up. And you have the gall to lie there and tell me some cock-and-bull story about a
“Who?” asked Angeli.
“I don’t know, but it all fits in.” He turned to McGreavy. “The killers weren’t after John Hanson or Carol. They were after me.”
McGreavy looked at him in surprise. “What makes you think so?”
“Hanson was killed because he was wearing my yellow slicker. They must have seen me go into my building wearing that coat. When Hanson came out of my office wearing it, they mistook him for me.”
“That’s possible,” said Angeli.
“Sure,” said McGreavy. He turned to Judd. “And when they learned that they had killed the wrong man, they came into your office and tore your clothes off and found out you were really a little colored girl, and they got so mad they beat you to death.”
“Carol was killed because they found her there when they came to get me,” Judd said.
McGreavy reached in his overcoat pocket and took out some notes. “I just talked to the captain of the precinct where the accident happened.”
“It was no accident.”
“According to the police report, you were jaywalking.”
Judd stared at him. “Jaywalking?” he repeated weakly.
“You crossed in the middle of the street, Doctor.”
“There were no cars so I—”
“There was a car,” McGreavy corrected. “Only you didn’t see it. It was snowing and the visibility was lousy. You stepped out of nowhere. The driver put on his brakes, went into a skid, and hit you. Then he panicked and drove away.” “That’s not the way it happened and his headlights were off.”
“And you think that’s evidence that he killed Hanson and Carol Roberts?”
“Someone tried to kill me,” repeated Judd insistently.
McGreavy shook his head. “It won’t work, Doctor.”
“What won’t work?” asked Judd.
“Did you really expect me to start beating the bushes for some mythical killer while you take the heat off yourself?” His voice was suddenly hard. “Did you know your receptionist was pregnant?”
Judd closed his eyes and let his head sink back on the pillow. So that was what Carol had wanted to speak to him about. He had half-guessed. And now McGreavy would think…He opened his eyes. “No,” he said wearily. “I didn’t.”
Judd’s head began pounding again. The pain was returning. He swallowed to fight off the nausea that engulfed him. He wanted to ring for the nurse, but he was damned if he would give McGreavy the satisfaction.
“I went through the records at City Hall,” said McGreavy. “What would you say if I told you that your cute little pregnant receptionist had been a hooker before she went to work for you?” The pounding in Judd’s head was becoming steadily worse. “Were you aware f that, Dr. Stevens? You don’t have to answer. I’ll answer for you. You knew it because you picked her up in night court four years ago, when she was arrested on a charge of soliciting. Now isn’t it a little far-outfor a respectable doctor to hire a hooker as a receptionist in a high-class office?”
“No one is born a hooker,” said Judd. “I was trying to help a sixteen-year-old child have a chance at life.”
“And get yourself a little free black tail on the side?”
“You dirty-minded bastard!”
McGreavy smiled without mirth. “Where did you take Carol after you found her in night court?”
“To my apartment.”
“And she slept there?”
“Yes.”
McGreavy grinned. “You’re a beauty! You picked up a good-looking young whore in night court and took her to your apartment to spend the night. What were you looking for—a chess partner? If you really didn’t sleep with her, there’s a damn good chance you’re a homosexual. And guess who that ties you in with? Right. John Hanson. If you did sleep with Carol, then the chances are pretty good that you continued sleeping with her until you finally got her knocked up. And you have the gall to lie there and tell me some cock-and-bull story about a
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