The Rivers Webb by Jeremy Tyler Page B

the killer took it, actually.” Gerald was beginning to get the same look in his eye that caged animals often got when they sensed something very bad was about to happen. “In fact, Gerald, I’m certain that the killer didn’t take it. Funny thing about that ring, too—well, actually there’s a couple of funny things—but what’s been eating at me the most, is that, when I first noticed it at the funeral, George was worrying with it, the way you do when you get a new ring, on account of you’re not used to it. But the thing is, when I asked him about it, George told me he’d had it for years. That was a lie, Gerald. A stupid lie. That’s the kind of lie that you tell because you’re covering something up, and you don’t even want a hint of it coming out. It’s the kind of lie you tell when you’re ashamed of something, Gerald.”
    John took a moment to size up the man before him. To his credit, Gerald didn’t try to stop him, or change the subject. He’d been caught, and he knew it, and he was just waiting for the moment when it was time to confess.
    â€œYou know another thing that bugs me about that ring?” John went on, “I waited and waited for the good sheriff to notice that it was missing, and he never did. Do you know why, Gerald? I’ll tell you what I think. I think that Roy didn’t notice it was gone because he never knew it was supposed to be on George’s finger in the first place!”
    Gerald was just about to break, and John knew it. It was time for the kill-shot.
    â€œSo, here I have a very expensive ring that ought to be on George Rivers’ lifeless finger, but isn’t, and a close-knit family that ought to know all about a nice fancy ring like that, but doesn’t. And here, I’m standing talking to their houseman, who knows everything there is to know about the Rivers, and I’m just wondering…”
    â€œI took that ring, Mr. Webb.”
    â€œCall me John.” He couldn’t decide if the threatening growl in his voice had been entirely accidental or not, but it achieved just what he wanted.
    The poor man was defeated, and looked it. John was very tempted to feel bad for him. But not that tempted.
    â€œMr. George, he was given that ring by a friend up in Pelham.”
    â€œThat’s a rather impressive gift.”
    â€œMr. George was a good man. He never hurt nobody, and he didn’t think ill o’ no one. But he was a quiet fella’, and didn’t like people to know much about him, personally…”
    â€œExcept for this friend up in Pelham. I’m guessing this friend knew George in a very special way.”
    â€œMr. Webb…Mr. John, I suppose up north, in a big city like New York, that particular kind of friendship is a little more in keepin’ with acceptable behavior…but down here in Georgia, it just ain’t done. Mr. George would be horrified if anyone was to find out, and that’s why, God as my witness, I took that ring”
    â€œAnd where is it now, Gerald?”
    The man paused as if afraid to take another step, but John persisted.
    â€œDon’t press me right now, Gerald! As of this moment, that ring is evidence in two murders!”
    â€œTwo? Why, you couldn’t possibly think that George coulda’ been tied up in Rev’rend Carl’s killin’! He loved that man like a father!”
    â€œI’ve got two murder scenes within weeks of each other, in a town that hasn’t seen more than kids shoplifting in thirty years! Explain to me how in hell they could NOT be connected!”
    John was starting to raise his voice a little too much. He didn’t want to draw anyone else’s attention. He made a concerted effort to calm down.
    â€œThe ring’s up in my dresser…top drawer. I was goin’ into Pelham in a few days to return it, once things got a bit more settled.”
    â€œThat’s