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Hasty Wedding

Page 18

by Mignon G. Eberhart


  “You could have disposed of it.”

  “There’s no revolver in the apartment, Mr Wait,” said the policeman he had called O’Brien.

  “I didn’t expect there would be. When the men come from headquarters have two of them make a complete search.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “How long, Locke, have you known of Elise and how did you know? You say that you had never seen her before.”

  “That’s true. Someone told me of her. I’ve known it for—some time.”

  “If you knew Drew was already married why didn’t you tell your wife—before she was your wife, that is?”

  “I didn’t—want to.”

  “You’d have preferred seeing her illegally married to him?”

  “She didn’t marry him.”

  “She might have done so. Why didn’t you tell her?”

  “Reasons,” said Jevan crisply. “Perhaps I wanted her consent to our marriage on—on another basis.”

  Wait shook his head impatiently. And someone at the door said quickly: “Here’s the doctor.”

  Lights flashed suddenly on as the doctor arrived. Their brightness was bewildering, as if the room and all it held were plunged suddenly into a different dimension.

  Dorcas blinked and took a long breath; she was sitting on the white divan beside Sophie. She caught a distant reflection of herself in a mirror opposite. A girl with an utterly stiff, blank white face and Dorcas’ hat.

  The doctor, a big man, glanced curiously at the two women on the divan and tramped, heavily into the bedroom. Wait followed him. Jevan, looking very pale and tense, came to Dorcas.

  “We’ll get a good lawyer,” he said and Sophie put her black-gloved hand over Dorcas’ hand.

  “Exactly what did happen?” she asked Jevan, whispering. “Why did you and Dorcas come here?”

  He could not tell her. A stretcher was being maneuvered through the bedroom door. Jevan stood in front of Dorcas so she could see only his broad, tweed-colored shoulders.

  “But she’s alive,” he told her as the dismal little procession vanished. “She’s alive and has a chance.”

  “A small chance,” said Wait at his side again. “So small—why did you shoot her, Locke? There’s no one else who could have done it unless it was your wife. You were both here. Which one of you shot her?”

  “She didn’t shoot Elise,” said Jevan. “And I didn’t.”

  Wait looked at him quietly for a moment. Then he went to the table, pulled up a small white chair and sat down. The mirrors set in dull blue walls reflected his face and the back of his glossy head a hundred times so there were a hundred Waits in the room. Wait said: “I’m arresting you now, Locke, and charging you with the murder of Drew and of Pett and with the attempted murder of that girl. Your wife told us the whole story of the night Drew was killed. She—had to do it,” said Wait with a gleam of humanity. “There was an instrument of persuasion that came to my hand and I was obliged to use it. I mean,” he explained, “a note which, coupled with some other evidence, led me to believe that Pett and Drew were partners in a scheme by which Drew was to marry Mrs Locke.” Dorcas listened while he explained carefully, fully, with irresistible truth.

  Sophie listened, too, and cried: “Marcus! And we never dreamed—oh, Dorcas, it must be true. Marcus always rather favored Ronald, remember? It must be true. Did Jevan know? Is that why he——” She caught herself sharply with a frightened glance at Wait, who did not appear to have heard it, for he went on: “The night he was killed Drew made a last desperate effort to induce your wife to elope with him. He grew frantic as she resisted him and tried to force her to marry him by any means that occurred to him. He didn’t want her simply to elope with him, he wanted to marry her. Elise …” Wait paused for a second. “Elise presents a new angle. I think she must have known of his plans; perhaps he promised her money when he succeeded. In that case she might have had a fairly substantial nuisance value. Elise——” He frowned, shrugged a little and said: “I’m inclined to think, however, that Elise was only incidental, quite aside from the main issue. Perhaps she did come to your wife for money, perhaps not. If she lives we’ll know. Certainly there was a reason for silencing her; thus, certainly, she knows something. But as I see it, that is her only importance. And what she knows may be of no real importance to me. The guilty flee,” said Wait rather sententiously, “where a shadow pursues.” He paused a thoughtful moment which appeared to confirm his belief, for he went on: “At any rate you killed Drew. Your wife has told me everything——”

  “Oh no, no,” cried Dorcas. “I didn’t tell——” And put both hands across her mouth. How could she let him know that they still had no proof of his presence? Jevan didn’t look at her. She started toward him and Sophie put her hand on her arm and stopped her and Jevan said steadily: “Very well then. If she’s told you everything you know that Drew was alive when she left his apartment.”

  “When did you kill him?”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Then your wife did and you are trying to protect her. Oh, Locke, don’t you see that it’s either you or your wife? Don’t you——”

  “Don’t say anything, Jevan. Don’t——”

  “Hush, Dorcas,” whispered Sophie. “Be still. Jevan will see a way.”

  But Jevan didn’t. He put up his chin and looked squarely at the detective and said: “Yes, I see that. I knew it would come sometime. Well, it wasn’t my wife.”

  “Is that a confession?”

  “It’s nothing of the kind.” Jevan’s eyes flickered toward one of the plain-clothes men and for the first time Dorcas was aware that the plain-clothes man had a shorthand tablet in his hand and was writing. Every word of it, then, was going on that inexorable record. To be quoted later—at the trial. Her heart turned over inside her. She must stop Jevan. And she couldn’t, for he said: “Yes, I was here. After my wife had gone.”

  “Was Drew alive?”

  Jevan’s mouth was tight and white. He said: “I refuse to answer. I must have a lawyer.”

  “You mean he was dead and your wife had shot him and you knew it?”

  “No,” said Jevan. “My wife did not kill him.”

  “Then you did. You killed him and then killed Pett because he knew, somehow, what you had done. And then you decoyed this girl here and shot her.”

  “I didn’t shoot her.”

  “Then it was your wife.”

  “No.”

  “Mrs Locke, why did you come here tonight? You were followed, you know, from your house and you went out of

  your way to give the wrong address to the taxi driver who brought you here. My man followed you and let me know you were here and I guessed you had come to meet and warn your husband. But I didn’t guess you were—one of you or both of you—going to do murder.”

  “Don’t say anything, Dorcas; you aren’t obliged to talk,” said Jevan swiftly but Dorcas cried: “No, no. Jevan was here, too, but it was the personal notice—Elise and Schumanze Court and——”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The notice in the personal column,” repeated Dorcas and told him.

  “‘W,’” said Wait. “That means what?”

  “Willy put it in,” said Jevan. “He was trying to help. He knows nothing about this except that I wanted to find Elise. So he thought he’d help and put that notice in the paper and told me of it after he had done so. So of course I came in the hope that it might, after all, bring Elise here. It’s nothing to Willy; he’s out of this entirely. I got here and came up to the apartment and it was unlocked. I came in the kitchen door and it was dark and—and no one seemed to be about. You don’t have to believe this, of course, but it’s true and I’m telling you exactly what happened.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well—then I came into this room. It was dark; the lights were cut off, as you know. I had tried them in the kitchen. It was perfectly still and I thought no one was here. Then all at once I heard a voice. I couldn�
��t tell what it was, for it was just a jumble of words, but it seemed to come from the bedroom and then all at once without any more warning than that there was a shot. Then I—I’m not sure what happened, for it was so dark, but I do know that there was the sound of somebody running and of a door banging——”

  “Was Mrs Locke in the room?”

  “Yes,” said Dorcas. “He—Jevan had just come into the room from the kitchen. I heard the door——”

  “But it was dark, you say. You couldn’t be sure——”

  “I am sure,” said Dorcas. “For right after the shot we—we bumped into each other in the darkness.”

  “After he left the bedroom, you mean?”

  “It was someone else in the bedroom,” said Jevan. “My wife was over there near the door. She couldn’t have escaped from the bedroom and got there before I found her.”

  “But you are trying to make me believe that somebody shot Elise, escaped through this room in the dark——”

  “And out the kitchen way. That’s exactly what happened,” said Jevan.

  Wait shook his head again and looked at Jevan with a hint of something that was almost admiration in his eyes.

  “A good story,” he said. “But who did it if you didn’t? Who had the motive? Who had the opportunity? Confess, Locke.”

  Again there was a little electric silence while the two men measured one another and walls and mirrors, watching them, knew a thing they could not tell.

  Then Wait said slowly, almost musically: “Why did you come to find Elise if you had no thought of killing her?”

  “I wanted to find out what she knew. To buy her off if I had to. To——”

  Wait’s eyes flashed. A gust of impatience went over him; his eyes shone and he leaned forward and said: “I repeat that you came to silence her in another way. And you’ve done it—unless in spite of everything she lives. You murdered Drew and Pett and——”

  There was a commotion in the doorway; two policemen grasping at either side someone who came reluctantly and sputtered at every step and was Willy. He went dead white when he saw Dorcas and Jevan and Sophie. He said, or tried to say: “It’s an outrage. An outrage. I’ve done nothing——”

  “I found him over on Cuahanan Street. He was starting his car and it’s been parked there for some time. He was trying to get away and resisted us. We thought we’d better bring him along——”

  “That’s right,” said Wait. “All right, Devany. What’s your story?”

  CHAPTER 21

  WILLY RUBBED HIS FOREHEAD and sat limply in a great white chair into which the policemen thrust him and said rather dazedly a number of times that he hadn’t any story. He wound up giving Jevan a pleading look and saying: “What’s happened? They said somebody’s been shot. You—you didn’t kill her, did you, Jevan?”

  “Kill who?” demanded Wait sharply.

  “Why, Elise, of course. I oughtn’t to have put the notice in the paper,” gibbered Willy. “But I thought it was a good idea. It seemed like it at the time. Good God, what are we going to do now? Is she really dead?”

  “Don’t talk, Willy,” said Jevan. “You’re out of this and I’ve told them so. I didn’t kill her of course. Or Dorcas——”

  “Dorcas,” cried Willy wildly. “Was she here too?”

  “Willy, listen,” said Jevan desperately. “Don’t answer any questions. Don’t say anything. And get yourself a lawyer. I’m going to. I’ve got to.”

  “Yes,” said Wait dryly. “He’s under a murder charge,” and watched Willy, who went from white to a sort of pea green.

  “But he——”

  “Shut up!” snapped Jevan. “It’s not your fight.”

  “Is Elise dead?” asked Willy, paying no attention at all to Jevan and turning to Wait.

  “She’s barely alive. There’s a chance. That’s all. You knew she was Drew’s wife.”

  “Willy,” cried Jevan and still Willy wouldn’t listen.

  “Yes, of course. I was the one that told Jevan. I learned it only accidentally.”

  “How?” said Wait. It brought Willy up shortly and he gave Wait a harassed look and said:

  “Friend of hers and mine. Girl named Dolly White. Dances in a night club with Elise. Anyway, she told me and as Dorcas was already engaged to be married to Jevan and Ronald was apparently out of the picture I didn’t see any use in spreading it. Drew’s own business. But all the same he was a dirty skunk, you know. Trying to marry Dorcas without divorcing his real wife. Elise wouldn’t divorce him; wanted money, I suppose. Well, anyway, I guess that’s all,” said Willy.

  “So you told Locke that Drew was already married?”

  “Huh?” said Willy in a startled way. “Oh. Oh yes, I told him. Had to. Drew was still after Dorcas; wouldn’t give her up.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Wait. “He induced her to come to this apartment with him the night before her wedding. She has admitted that,” he said as Willy jerked anxiously around to look at Dorcas. “She’s admitted her presence here, so you may as well go on. You knew she was here that night?”

  “I—no, no, of course not.”

  “You saw her? Tell the truth, Devany.”

  “No. I mean I——”

  “You knew she was here and that’s why you went to find Locke? Isn’t that right?”

  “No, no. Certainly not.”

  “Oh, go ahead, Willy, if you must,” said Jevan. “I told you not to talk. I wanted to keep you out of it. But now you’ve told this much you’ll have to go on.” He turned to Wait. “Yes, he knew it. He drove past the Whipple house and saw my—my wife meet Drew and followed them to the apartment and then tried to find me. But my wife was gone before Drew was killed. I’ll swear it”

  “That right, Devany?”

  “I—yes,” said Willy miserably. “You see, I knew what a skunk Drew was. And the wedding was next day—and if he got Dorcas to elope with him it’d be an awful mess for Dorcas. Somebody had to do something. I couldn’t, so I went to get Jevan and finally found him and——” He stopped abruptly with an expression of absolute horror on his face.

  “And you brought Locke here,” finished Wait. “That right, Devany?”

  “No, no,” cried Willy.

  “You brought Locke here. You waited for him while he came up here to this apartment——”

  “No, no,” cried Willy again, the force of his denial making it like an admission.

  Jevan stirred and said abruptly: “It’s all right, Willy. He knows…All right, Wait, you’ve won. Willy did find me and tell me Dorcas was here. Told me Drew was married and that he was afraid Drew was—well, it’s as he said. He knew what a skunk Drew was; guessed he had some scheme and knew, knowing Drew, it was crooked. Willy knew, too, that it was up to me to come. My fight——”

  “That’s what you said, Jevan. I wanted to come up here too.”

  “But he didn’t come. He waited in the car for me. I came up alone.”

  “And found Drew already dead,” cried Willy. “Drew was already dead when he got here, so he couldn’t have——”

  “Willy,” shouted Jevan. “For God’s sake, shut up! Drew was alive!”

  Still Willy didn’t see, for he looked at Jevan and at Wait and cried: “Drew was dead. Jevan told me he was dead when he got here. And he rubbed off fingerprints and——”

  “Willy!” It was Jevan again. And Willy turned a puzzled face toward him and said: “I don’t see why you’re not telling the truth. You didn’t kill him. He was dead when you got here.” And his feverish blue eyes went to Dorcas. Went to Dorcas and fastened upon her and widened in anguish as he saw what he had done.

  “Dorcas—Dorcas——”

  “Never mind, Willy.”

  “Dorcas——”

  “She didn’t kill him. She——”

  “Stop. All of you.” It was Wait, cutting off Willy’s shame and anguish and Jevan’s protestations. He turned to Jevan. “So Drew was dead when you arrived. And it was you that wiped tho
se glasses clean of fingerprints and arranged the gun to look like suicide and you did it because you knew Mrs Locke had killed him.”

  “My wife did not murder Drew,” said Jevan. “But I’m going to do something, Wait, that may be wrong. I don’t know. I may be making a mistake that can’t——” He stopped and then went on rather savagely. “If I’m wrong there’s always one thing I can do to right it. See here, Wait, I’ll make a trade with you. You send these policemen out of the room and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “But you don’t want it to go on record and you don’t want a police witness. That it, Locke?”

  “That’s it,” said Jevan.

  “Jevan, don’t be a fool,” began Willy and Sophie gave him a look and said: “Do be still, Willy. You’ve said quite enough.”

  Wait was looking thoughtfully at Jevan. Small ruby lights were in his dark eyes and his fine small hand tapped the table before him.

  Jevan said: “You can’t lose by it. I can. But I’m doing you the credit of believing two things. One is that you’re above framing any one of us. The other is that you want the truth and only the truth.”

  The truth. Dorcas did not know why she felt it and there was not time to dig into her mind and analyze it but she knew suddenly that she did not want the truth. She only wanted Wait to let them go, to free Jevan, to call the case closed. But the truth was—was dangerous. She felt the danger and she tried to tell Jevan not to do whatever he was going to do and it was too late. For Wait said suddenly; “All right, Locke. It’s a gamble but I’ll take it. You are protected, for my word would not hold against all four of you—at least I’d have a hard time proving that you were all lying. In the event,” said Wait rather dryly, “that you’re going to tell me who murdered Drew and murdered Pett——”

  “You mean,” said Jevan grimly, “that if I tell you the truth you’ll take what I tell you and use it as you see fit. I know that, I realize it perfectly. But I still think it’s worth the chance——”

  “Jevan, don’t do anything you’ll regret,” warned Sophie. “But I think, too, that if the detective knows the truth it’ll be best for us all. I think you’d better tell him everything. It’s reached a place where—where you’ve got to. Even if——”

 

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