by Henry, Kane,
“And then you went down to call Mr. Chambers?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then, while on the phone, you got that knock on the head?”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned to me. “What time did you get that call, Pete?”
“Five after nine.”
“You sure of that?”
“Certain, Lieutenant. I looked at the clock.”
Parker looked up at his man. “See what I mean?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Oh.” When an honest man looks sheepish, he looks good and sheepish. Parker was an honest man. “Sorry, I jumped the gun. Pete!”
“Yes, sir?”
“You got the call at five after nine. Then you came here.”
“Right.”
“How long did it take you to get here?”
“About ten minutes.”
Parker squinted at his man. “Now do you get it? That bag disappeared within a ten minute period. Nobody’d have a chance to really bury it in ten minutes. So I think I’d first want to do an interrogation of the people involved, and a full check, before I let you guys loose here. So, for the time being, go on back downtown. I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Yes sir, Lieutenant.” He saluted. “I understand.”
The six left. Cassidy and Peterson smoked and chatted. The uniformed policemen stood around like uniformed policemen always stand around. And Parker devoted himself to me. He took the nickel-plated revolver, broke it, examined it. “Three bullets discharged,” he said. His voice was quieter now, more friendly, more confidential. “What do you think, Pete?”
“Don’t think a thing yet, Louie.”
“Crazy artists. Carrying their loot in a bag. Begging to be knocked off.” He tapped the revolver. “Figures Monte Marvin’s gun turned the trick, doesn’t it?”
“I’m pretty sure of that. The gun beside her. Three bullets in her. Three bullets out of it.”
“But he figures to produce a license for it.”
“You can bet on that, Louie.”
“So we don’t have a thing to hold him on, nothing legal, nothing at all. Gun beside the dame, doesn’t give us a call to hold him. The New Orleans thing, that’s nothing. That Grand Jury never even had a chance to subpoena him, so he’s just a guy that left his town, no crime in that.” He rubbed at his chin, musing. “Think he could have killed her, Pete?”
“Maybe. But what about motive, Lieutenant? A hundred thousand dollars may be a lot of money to us ordinary mortals, but a big shot like Monte Marvin …?”
“Nuts. We happen to know that that bum broke loose from his home town with very little cabbage. We also happen to know that some of his own people are out gunning for him. So he could use some extra loot for a lot of reasons. That’s motive, son, or ain’t it?”
“It is. But would a pro like Monte Marvin bump the lady and leave his pistol lying there like a signpost on a country road?”
“You got a point there, Pete. But who knows? These guys sometimes figure crazy angles. This way — just because it’s this way — nobody’d figure it for a pro like him. His story about the gun being heisted would have a better chance to stand up.”
“Maybe you got a point there, Lieutenant.”
Now the Medical Examiner arrived. He came with a staff of four, two from his own office, and two more of Parker’s men. One of the Medical Examiner’s boys casually carried a folded-together stretcher.
Parker waved at the Medical Examiner. “She’s upstairs, Doc. Get her down fast, and get her down to your lab fast, and give me a report fast. And, Chester …”
One of his new men saluted. Parker gave him the gun. “I want a report on this thing too. Figures to be the weapon. I’ll be down later for all the reports, and anything else you guys may pick up in her room that you think needs looking into.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Medical Examiner led the four men upstairs. Parker sighed and went to Mary Nelson. “Routine, Miss Nelson. A lot of questions. Cop work. Questions and questions and then a re-hash of the same questions and questions. It’s my job, Miss Nelson.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Let’s get back to some of the facts …”
The door opened. One of the young cops bristled as the rain hit him, then he closed the door behind a tall, gaunt, black-coated, black-hatted newcomer.
Mary Nelson said, “That’s Sir Cedric, Lieutenant.”
“Good,” Parker said. “Gives us a full cast of characters.”
The tall man swept the black hat from his head. He had a pale bald dome trellised with wisps of grey hair. Shaggy eyebrows contracted over deep-set eyes as they darted about, finally coming to rest on Parker. “The lady addressed you as Lieutenant.” Only the voice remained of what was once the great Cedric Ormsby. “Lieutenant, eh? A lieutenant, a couple of cement-faced young men, and a couple of police officers. Mary Nelson, who looks as though she’d been crying. And a spritely-eyed young man who looks as though he wants to laugh. There is something amiss, I take it?”
“There is something,” Parker said, “amiss.”
“And what, pray?”
“Olga Dino. She’s been murdered. Shot to death. And somebody’s stolen a bag with a hundred thousand apples. Are you Cedric Ormsby?”
“That’s what the lady said, didn’t she?”
Parker’s voice thickened. “I’m asking you.”
“I am Cedric Ormsby.” He bowed, then straightened. “I receive your news with deep sorrow. A fine lady, Madame Dino, and a gracious one.” The shoulders shrugged within the black coat. “But we are all mortal and death must come to all of us.” As he talked, the reek of digested whiskey filled the room. “Murder is unpleasant, but murder is generally sudden, and when death is sudden, it is a blessing. Strange philosophy, perhaps, dear Lieutenant, but a philosophy which encroaches with the inroads of time.” Another bow. “I shall be seventy-five my next birthday. My hide has many layers. I am impervious to all.”
“Even to cops?” Parker smiled despite himself.
“Police? A necessary evil, Lieutenant, and usually more evil than necessary.” He smiled with spaced yellow teeth. “Pardon, Lieutenant, but I cannot resist a turn of phrase when the opportunity beckons. Police? I have no fear of police. I have fear of nothing. I am too old for fear. Although, as I have recently been advised, my health is excellent, and I expect to live until at least ninety, and live comfortably.”
“Would a hundred thousand dollars help … to live comfortably?”
“Immeasurably, Lieutenant.”
An edge sneaked into Parker’s voice. “And would you steal to obtain it?”
“Definitely, Lieutenant.”
“Did you steal to obtain it?”
“May I remove my coat, Lieutenant?”
“Definitely, Mr. Ormsby.”
The old man took off his coat, folded it neatly and put it in a wet pile on a dry chair. Then he placed his hat on top of it. He smoothed at the wisps of hair on his head, opened a black muffler around his neck, but did not remove it. The jacket of his shiny blue serge suit was open to a vest that had more wrinkles than the forehead of a pundit. His white shirt was clean, the collar several sizes too large for him. He was very tall, perhaps six feet three, but stooped. The flesh was flabby on the gaunt bones of his face, his large nose like the beak of an eagle, and his neck a mass of long loose knots.
“To get,” he said, “back to our subject, Lieutenant — I would steal. There would be no problem, no moral problem in stealing, I am above and beyond the moralities of stealing. My problem would be — from whom.”
“From Olga Dino.”
“I would not steal from one whom I liked or admired. And I liked and admired Olga Dino. Therefore I would not steal from her. And — anticipating your next question — nor would I kill her. Again, the objection is not to the very act of killing. I do suppose I am capable of murder. Which among us is not? But, since I would not steal from one whom I lik
ed and admired, I think it follows that neither would I assault one whom I liked or admired. Therefore, and at long last” — he blew a cheek-rounding whiskey-smelling sigh — “my dear Lieutenant, in your very good judgment, you may place me beyond the pale. I am not one of your suspects.”
“That’s your story.”
“Indeed, sir. My story.” He sat down, crossed bony knees, lit a long cigarette and puffed contentedly.
Sweetly Parker said, “May I continue with my investigation, Mr. Ormsby?” Sarcasm dripped over the edges of his tone like heaped whipped cream over apple pie.
“By all means do, Lieutenant. And my friends call me Sir Cedric.”
“I am not your friend, Mr. Ormsby. I’m a policeman working at his job.” He went to Mary Nelson. “Mr. Ormsby was present at the dinner table during the talk about the money in the bag. That correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So now everybody’s in the house, every one of your boarders, or lodgers, or whatever you call them — everyone that knew about that dough?”
“Yes, sir.”
Parker returned to Ormsby, did an elaborate bow. “May I inquire when you left the house, Mr. Ormsby?”
“Certainly, Mr. Lieutenant.”
“When?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“And may I inquire where you went, Mr. Ormsby?”
“Certainly, Mr. Lieutenant.”
There was silence. Finally Parker said, “Well …?”
“My dear Mr. Lieutenant. You asked if you might inquire, and I gave you permission to inquire. Inquire then, if you wish.”
“I wish. Where the hell did you go, Mr. Ormsby?”
“I went across the street. At eight o’clock. To a fine and cozy saloon. I sat there, alone, from eight o’clock until now, facing this very house, as a matter of fact, and I imbibed of liquid fire to warm these ancient bones.”
“Then you knew that something was wrong here, didn’t you?”
“Pardon, Mr. Lieutenant?”
“You saw police entering the house, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“Then you knew something was wrong.”
“I must admit to a glimmer of suspicion in that direction.”
“Then why didn’t you come back here?”
“Bluntly, Mr. Lieutenant, because I wasn’t interested. I was much more interested in warming my ancient bones.”
Parker washed open palms across his face but his voice maintained its control. “Let me ask you this question, Mr. Ormsby.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Lieutenant.”
“Between five minutes after nine and nine-fifteen — did you see anyone come out of this house, or enter it?”
“A most difficult question. You offer a very narrow frame of time.”
“Make it between nine and ten.”
“Still too narrow.”
“Eight and ten.”
“Mr. Lieutenant, let us put it this way. I said I was facing the house. But I was not watching it. There is a difference between facing and watching.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I was not watching. I had no interest in who was coming or going.”
“But you said you saw the police.”
“Ah, police. There is a difference. Police are unusual. One always notices police.” His yellow teeth were exposed in a taunting grin. “I’m not saying that I saw no one go or no one come. Perhaps I did. But I must joggle my recollection. I must think about it. I cannot, at this moment, say for sure. I shall think about it, Mr. Lieutenant, and when I am prepared, I may give you a response.”
Parker’s despairing hands were now in the air. “What prompted you to come back now, Mr. Ormsby?”
“My ancient bones, Mr. Lieutenant. They were sufficiently well-warmed.”
Just then the Medical Examiner came down the stairs. His young men, carrying the laden stretcher, followed him and went out directly. The Medical Examiner stopped with Parker. He said, “I’ll work on it as fast as I can. I’ll have a full report for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you downtown.”
The Medical Examiner left and now Parker addressed himself to Mary Nelson. “Did you see Mr. Ormsby leave tonight?”
“No, sir. I didn’t.”
“How about any of the others? Do you know if any of them were out?”
“When, sir?”
“Now look. Don’t you start with this frame of time business” — he pointed at Ormsby — “like that one. I’ll give you a wide interval and then we’ll try to narrow it down. Let’s say … from after dinner. Dinner’s at six?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. From after dinner — to nine o’clock. How about that, Miss Nelson?”
She looked up at the ceiling, thinking. She had big glowing expressive eyes. Then the eyes dropped back to Parker. “I do want to be helpful, but you must understand that I don’t sit around keeping tabs on people, no offense, Lieutenant. I’m trying to think, and answer you truthfully. I don’t know whether I can possibly tell you when any of them left, but I can tell you they were all out some time during that period.”
“Good,” Parker said. “At least we have one definite answer. Now how do you know they were all out?”
“Because from eight to about a quarter to nine, I was downstairs here, with Madame Dino, sitting here and chatting, and we saw them come in, as they did come in, all except Sir Cedric.”
“Which means that she — Olga Dino — was not out.”
“That’s right, sir. She didn’t go out after dinner.”
“Did you?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you go out during the day at all?”
“No, sir. As a matter of fact, this day I wasn’t out of the house at all. What with the rain, and the work I have to do, and then this worry about Madame Dino.”
“Fine. At long length, we’re getting a few facts definitely established. Now, about the others. Can you tell us when they came back, and in what order? I mean, of course, the best you can do, Miss Nelson.”
The green eyes were fixed on the ceiling again, and she spoke like that, slowly, thinking hard, the words squeezing out, as Parker jotted notes. “Well,” she said, “the first one was Rocky Green, oh, about ten after eight. Then Mr. Brown, about eight-thirty, and almost directly after that, Miss Bradley. Then, about a quarter to nine, Ralph Hardwood. That’s when we — the three of us — went up to Madame Dino’s room, and I got back on the subject of having someone come here, someone experienced, so that we could have peace of mind about that money.”
“All of them out in this miserable rain tonight, eh?”
“Yes, sir, Lieutenant.”
“Okay. It’s time we go to work on the rest of them. Bring them down here, Cassidy.”
VII
When they were assembled, Parker made a speech while I sat by and admired him. “I’m a cop,” he said. “I work directly. I’m no Sherlock Holmes. I leave the shenanigans to the likes of my friend here, Peter Chambers. A woman has been killed and a hundred thousand dollars has been stolen. Figures to have happened between nine-five and nine-fifteen. During that time, Nelson was slugged, Dino was shot, and the bag stolen. Not much time, was there? Certainly not much time to hide that bag of money here in the house. So, after my boys, as you all know, looked in all the proper places — and they’re experts, believe me — it’s my theory that that bag was taken out of the house. Any comment?”
There was no comment.
Parker continued. “Maybe it’s cached here, but I doubt it. There was no time to dig holes in the floor, or to remove plaster, or any of that. And my boys looked in every possible place that that bag could have been stuck in so short a working-period of time. Once more, any comment?”
Once more there was no comment.
“All right,” Parker said, “I have a few theories bouncing around in my mind. What they are — is none of your business. But there is a question I want answered, and I consider it import
ant.” He marched around, then turned and faced them. “Did any of you leave this house after nine-five o’clock? Yes or no?”
In chorus they said: “No.”
“Let’s get to the gun. Mr. Brown says that somebody clipped that gun out of his room. That is, if Mr. Brown is telling the truth. Let’s examine that. How would any of you know that Mr. Brown had a gun? Easy. Because Mr. Brown, who thinks he’s smart, is a dope. Mr. Brown’s name is Monte Marvin and his picture’s been in the newspapers, on and off, for years. I’d like to lay a bet that everybody in this house knew exactly who Mr. Brown was, but each of you decided to keep the nose clean. Okay. I don’t care. But — if that gun was taken from Mr. Brown’s room as Mr. Brown says it was — at least we can understand that the person seeking such a gun would know where to look. Any comment?”
There was no comment, except from me. “Plus Mr. Brown wasn’t in the habit of locking his door — he says. Which would make it that much easier to steal the gun, if stolen it was.”
“Correct,” Parker said. “Now let’s get back to earlier in the evening. You, Hardwood.”
“Yes, sir?”
“You got back here at about a quarter to nine. Right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where were you?”
Ralph Hardwood was tall and loungy with remote blue eyes. His enunciation could have been beautiful but at the moment it was slightly clouded by obvious reason of Rocky Green’s whiskey. “I was,” Hardwood said, “at the library, down a way, on Forty-eighth Street.”
“Remember, people,” Parker said. “These things will be thoroughly checked. You have a right, by law, not to answer, and whatever you say may be held against you, that’s the law. But if you do answer, I advise you to tell the truth. Now, Mr. Hardwood, what were you doing there?”
“Reading, naturally.”
“Naturally, huh? Do you consider it natural for a young man who is going to be married the next day, and who is going off to Italy — do you consider it natural for him, the evening before, to be sitting in a library reading a book? A book it was, I assume?”
“It was a book. And I consider it perfectly natural. I was completely packed and ready. And I was excited. And I don’t like being excited. And I find solace and restfulness in reading. So I was in a library, reading. Period.”
