She looked over at the dead man and the unconscious man and didn’t argue.
Shaw said slowly, “Got cuffs in my jacket pocket. You cuff that SOB over there so he can’t get away.”
Archer did as he was told, and when he turned the man over, he saw that it was Malcolm Draper. The man had finally turned up. He cuffed his hands behind his back and said to Jackie, who was getting dressed in her closet, “Throw me a belt.”
She did so, and he hog-tied the man’s legs with the belt, intersecting it through the handcuffs.
Archer drove the Buick straight to the hospital, which was a block over from the Derby. While the doctor attended Shaw, the detective had Archer call the police station and tell them what had happened at Jackie’s. Deputies were sent over to secure the area and arrest Draper.
As Shaw lay on the gurney he stared up at Archer. “You saved my damn life, Archer.”
“Just glad I was there. And you saved Jackie’s life. Dickie woulda killed her for sure if you hadn’t winged him. And you saved me, too, when you think about it. Not sure I could’ve got the upper hand with him if he hadn’t been wounded. You rest easy now. I’ll be back.”
He left with Jackie and drove her over to Ernestine’s, where he rapped hard on the door.
When a sleepy Ernestine opened the door, she looked confused when she saw Archer. But when she spied Jackie standing there, her features froze.
“Ernestine Crabtree, Jackie Tuttle,” said Archer by way of introduction.
The women, Archer thought, looked like two prizefighters about to do business in the ring.
“Miss Tuttle,” said Ernestine.
“Miss Crabtree,” said Jackie.
He succinctly explained what had happened and what he wanted Ernestine to do with Jackie.
Ernestine’s face had paled as Archer had described the horror at Jackie’s home. He thought she might actually faint. His hand shot out and steadied her.
“Steady there,” he said. “You okay?”
She composed herself and said, “I’m all right. My goodness. You poor thing,” she said to Jackie, gently draping her arm around the other woman’s shoulders.
“And Ernestine, you got your gun handy?” asked Archer.
“Yes.”
“Keep it that way.”
Jackie gripped Archer by the arm as he was about to leave.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Just glad you’re still with us, Jackie. And if it weren’t for you, I’d be dead.”
He hustled back to the Buick. As he started the car, he looked back to see the women turn and head into the house. Ernestine’s arm was still around Jackie and the other woman was leaning into her for support. Then the door closed.
Well, thought Archer, that had gone better than he could have imagined.
However, as he thought about it some more, he began to grow worried. The women separately had gotten to know Archer fairly well. And he had slept with Jackie. If the two started comparing notes on him?
He let out a sigh. Well, there’s nothing perfect about life. But at least I still got a life after tonight.
He drove off.
Shaw was sitting up and looking much better when Archer returned. The lawman had been placed in a private room and had bags of blood flowing into him.
“Deputies have been by. They got Draper. And they picked up Dill’s body.”
“Good,” said Archer, sitting next to the man. “But you just rest easy now.”
“Why do you think they went after Jackie Tuttle?”
“She knew Hank Pittleman as well as anyone did,” said Archer. “They were afraid he told her something, I suspect. Like you said, tying up loose ends. That’s what made me think to go over there in the first place. She asked me to stay with her last night for that very reason.”
“Soon as I get outta this bed, I’m gonna ask Marjorie Pittleman point-blank what the hell is going on.”
“Like to be with you when you do.”
“Don’t worry, you will. You earned that right tonight, son.”
“And I think I’m retiring from the slaughterhouse business,” said Archer.
“Good call,” replied Shaw, looking drowsy.
Noting this, Archer said, “Now you need to get some sleep. And so do I.”
Archer tipped his hat over his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
“What, you mean you’re gonna sleep here?”
“’Course. Want to be around in case somebody wants to try to come after you to finish the job. Don’t worry, I’m a light sleeper.”
“You always been that way?”
“Nope. But something about fighting a war and spending time in prison just does that to a man.”
He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
A minute later, so did Irving Shaw.
Chapter 33
IT WAS THE FOLLOWING DAY, around five. Shaw, his wound sutured, his blood levels fully restored, and his arm in a sling, had been pronounced to be out of danger. Now he was standing in front of Marjorie Pittleman’s door with Archer next to him.
The elderly Agnes answered the door after Shaw knocked.
Shaw had wanted to question Draper, but he was still unconscious and had been transferred from a jail cell to the hospital. They feared his skull might be cracked.
“Now I wish I hadn’t hit him so hard,” lamented Archer when he heard this news.
Agnes led them down the hall to the conservatory this time. Marjorie was seated on a chaise lounge with silk upholstery reading a book when they were shown in. As usual, a tall glass of something on the rocks was on the small table next to her. Archer was concluding the mild-mannered woman perhaps drank all the time. And maybe he couldn’t blame her.
“Yes, gentlemen, do you have news of my husband’s killer?”
Shaw took off his hat with his good arm.
“My word, what happened to you both?” asked Marjorie, noting the sling and Archer’s battered face.
Shaw pointed to two chairs. “May we?”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
They sat, and Shaw stared at the placid woman.
“There have been developments, ma’am.”
Marjorie closed her book, adjusted her pince-nez, and looked across at them.
“Such as?”
“Such as Sid Duckett getting fed to the hogs out at your husband’s slaughterhouse. And two men trying to kill Jackie Tuttle last night.”
Marjorie paled and dropped her book to the floor. “Excuse me!”
Shaw gave her a dead-eyed stare. “We also know about the life insurance policy on your husband, Mrs. Pittleman.”
“That’s right. It was Hank who insisted that we take it out on him.”
“Oh, is that so?” said Shaw skeptically. “Why?”
“Well, we all have to die, Mr. Shaw. And Hank took out the policy, not me. You can ask the insurance person.”
“But you knew about it?”
“Yes, of course. I was the beneficiary, after all.”
“On the life insurance application, it said that your husband was in good health.”
“Well, as far as I knew, he was.”
Shaw’s mustache twitched. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“According to his doctor, you were with your husband when he told him he had incurable cancer in his brain. What do you say to that?”
“I didn’t believe him.”
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t believe the doctor. I told Hank to get a second opinion. As far as I was concerned, Hank did not have cancer.”
“I doubt the insurance company will believe that.”
“Then I will fight them to the very end,” she snapped, her calm, refined expression gone in an instant. “I will not let them browbeat a poor, old widow, or cheat me out of money that is rightfully mine!”
“Okay,” said Shaw, slowly glancing at Archer.
Marjorie calmed as quickly as she had grown angry. “I’m sorry,
gentlemen, I’m sure you can understand how distressed I am about all this. But my money issues are not important. You said Sid Duckett is dead? And someone tried to kill Jackie?”
“One of her attackers was Malcolm Draper.”
“Sid Duckett and Malcolm Draper! My God. They both worked for Hank.”
“Which is why I’m here.”
“You can’t possibly think that I had anything to do with any of this. That…that is…I would never. How could you believe…?”
“Ma’am, look at it from my way. Your husband dies, you get a half-million bucks. Your husband was having a, well, an affair with Miss Tuttle. Lots of wives have killed their husbands and their husbands’ mistresses. Just a fact of life.”
Marjorie waved this off. “That is not how it was in this particular circumstance, Detective.”
“Then why don’t you tell me how it was, Mrs. Pittleman?”
“Jackie Tuttle was, well, an element of convenience for me.”
Archer said, “She told me it was the same for her.”
Marjorie said, “I’m sure. I can see how it would be, of course. I mean, Hank did financially support her.”
“But why would you let that happen right under your nose?” exclaimed Shaw.
She looked at him with pity. “I really had no say in the matter. I mean, look at the French. The men there have mistresses. And the wives tolerate it.”
“This ain’t France,” said Shaw.
She shrugged. “Women must do what we can. The fact is, Hank had control of everything. When he ventured to…seek out the affections of others, I struck a bargain with my husband. Jackie became a part of that bargain. If it were up to me, I would not have made that arrangement, but it was not up to me. So, there you are. It was not a perfect situation by any stretch, but it worked for us.”
“But you might still want her dead,” said Shaw.
“I never tried to harm her while my husband was alive. Why in the world would I wish to do so after he’s dead and their…relationship must end?”
Shaw had no ready answer for this.
Archer said, “Can you think of anyone who would want to kill her?”
“No. I really don’t know much about her other than Hank wanted her by his side instead of me.”
“And Mr. Draper?” asked Shaw.
“What about him?”
“We learned that he went out to the slaughterhouse most nights. Do you know why?”
“He only came to work for Hank about a year ago. I can’t say I really knew the man, although I was going to rely on him to help see me through this mess. I guess I’m on my own with that.” She paused and said to Shaw, “Now, do you have any idea who killed Hank?”
“I thought I did, but maybe I’m wrong there. We’ll keep working on it. But please don’t leave the area.”
“I can assure you that I have no intention of leaving my home. I have a lawyer working on the debts and the insurance policy and other things. I won’t give up what Hank built without a fight, Detective.”
“That’s certainly within your rights, ma’am.”
Archer said, “We saw Mr. Tuttle here the last time we visited.”
“I know that. We talked about it.” She hesitated. “But that was a little odd.”
“What do you mean ‘odd’?” said Shaw.
“Well, he came to pay his respects to me about Hank’s death, as I said.” She glanced at Archer. “As you suggested before, most people knew the two did not get along. In fact, Hank hated Lucas Tuttle. He told me so.”
“But he loaned him money,” said Archer. “Five thousand dollars.”
“Did he really?” said Marjorie, looking intrigued by this. “Well, Lucas must have indeed been in desperate straits to come to Hank for money.”
“What was the beef between those two?” Shaw asked.
“You know what men are like—they never really grow up.”
“Come again?”
Marjorie sighed resignedly. “Before Hank came to town, Lucas was the big shot in Poca City. But Hank’s success left Lucas in the dirt,” she added proudly. “Now, if there’s nothing else?”
Marjorie pressed her bell, and this time Amy appeared and led them out.
“Mr. Archer, my goodness, what happened to your face?” she asked as they walked along.
“Ran into a wall. But I’ll be fine.”
She smiled. “Hope so. I like you all handsome.” She actually winked at him before skipping off.
As before, Archer watched her go, until he felt Shaw tugging on his arm.
“Don’t even think about it, Archer. That one is nothing but trouble.”
In a way, aren’t they all? thought Archer. At least for me.
They got back into the Buick. Archer was driving because of Shaw’s bum arm.
The lawman said, “Well, that was not what I was expecting. The woman seemed to have an answer for every dang thing.” He eyed Archer. “We got to hope Draper wakes up and tells us the truth. Drop me at the hospital so I can check on that. I can walk to the hotel from there.”
“Okay. Then I’m gonna go see Jackie.”
“Ask her if she knows anybody who wants to kill her.”
“That’s a tough thing to ask a person.”
“Well, you got to because it’s the only way we’re gonna get to the truth, Archer.”
“That seems a long way away right now.”
“Hell, son, it always does, up until the moment you fall right over the damn thing.”
Chapter 34
NO ENEMIES that I can think of, Archer,” said Jackie.
She and Archer were sitting in the front room of Ernestine’s bungalow. Ernestine had gone to the evening service at the Methodist church, but she’d left her gun with Jackie.
“You sure?”
“What, do you think I go around ruining people? Hank did that, not me.”
“Which means there are a lot of folks who might have wanted to kill him.”
She shivered. “I woke up and saw that awful man hovering over me with a knife.”
“Dickie Dill standing over anybody, man or woman, would have been a disturbing sight.” He paused. “He, um, he didn’t do anything to you before he tried to kill you, did he?”
“No, but—” Jackie started to weep and reached out to him.
Archer took the woman into his arms. “It’s okay, Jackie, that man’s not going to hurt anyone ever again.”
She gently touched his damaged face. “Does it hurt?”
“Not compared to being dead, no.”
She composed herself and sat up. “But why would they want to kill me?”
“You mentioned it yourself the other night. They maybe thought you knew something that they were afraid of. Did they ask you anything? I mean, about Hank or such?”
“No. I just heard a noise, woke up, and there he was. I started screaming.”
“Lucky we were outside and heard it.”
“How is Shaw?”
“He’s fine. Tough man.”
“It was sweet of Ernestine to let me stay here.”
“Once you two get to know each other, I think you’ll be friends.”
“She’s very nice.”
“So, did you two gals talk about me?” He said this in a joking way, but underneath, a nervous Archer wanted some genuine answers.
“Talk about you? How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I guess how gals talk about guys.”
She sat up straighter, pursed her lips, and said in a disapproving tone, “What, like comparing performances in the sack?”
“I never slept with Ernestine.”
“Says you.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Well, it’s not like I would care, Archer. We’re not married.”
“Okay,” he said, feeling a bit disappointed by her response.
“She thinks you’re nice. And you saved my life, so you’re okay in my book, too.”
“You’re a funny gal, Jac
kie.”
“No, I’m just not what you’re used to encountering in a ‘gal.’”
“You speak the truth there,” he said.
This seemed to defuse her standoffishness and she curled up next to him and said, “What about the debt that my father owes Marjorie Pittleman?”
“What about it?”
“In case you forgot, you were supposed to go out there again and get it paid.”
“Hell, I had pretty much forgot about that.”
“I don’t see how you can afford to do that. It’s a lot of money, Archer. Unless you want to keep butchering hogs.”
He mulled this over. “Well, the fact you’re no longer with Pittleman is a good thing. Your daddy might pay based on that. Hell, Marjorie might need the money now.”
“Five thousand plus interest,” she said. “That would come in handy.”
“You been giving this some thought, I see.”
“What else do I have to do?” she shot back, but then smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
“But your daddy made it pretty clear that the only way he’ll pay the debt, and me, is if you come back home, Jackie. And you’ve made it just as clear that you’re not gonna do that.”
She fingered his lapel. “But what if I agreed to…to meet with him?”
Archer glanced sharply at her. “Why would you do that?”
“He is my father. And you do need the money.”
He held her at arm’s length. “Jackie, don’t base this on me getting paid.”
“But I could meet with him. In fact, it might be best.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know, Archer, but I think I have to try. Me almost getting killed? Well, it makes a person think, you know.”
“Look, you don’t have to worry about it now. You just need to stay here and rest and, well, just get right in the head. Somebody trying to kill you takes time to get over.”
“No, I think I need to get this resolved, Archer.”
“Okay, but how? Would you go out there to meet with him?”
He saw her perceptibly shudder.
“No, I can’t go out there. But…but you could tell him that I can meet him at my house.”
“You sure about that?”
“I am. Can you go tomorrow and tell him?”
One Good Deed Page 24
