Murder at Bridge

by Anne Austin

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It was nearly nine o'clock Monday morning, and Special InvestigatorDundee sat alone in the district attorney's office, impatiently awaitingSanderson's arrival. Coroner Price, with the approval of Captain Strawnof the Homicide Squad, had set the inquest into the murder of JuanitaLeigh Selim for ten o'clock, and there was much that Dundee wished tosay to the district attorney before that hour arrived.

  When the thoroughly tired and dispirited young detective had returned tohis apartment late Sunday afternoon, after having seen Ralph Hammondcompletely exonerated of any possible complicity in the murder of NitaSelim, he had found a telegram from the district attorney, filed inChicago:

  "CALLED CHICAGO SERIOUS ILLNESS OF MOTHER STOP RETURNING HAMILTON EIGHT TEN MONDAY MORNING STOP SEE BY PAPERS YOU ARE ON SELIM JOB STOP GOOD BUT WATCH YOUR STEP--SANDERSON"

  Well--and Dundee grinned ruefully--he had been on the job all right, butwould Sanderson consider that he had "watched his step"? At any rate, hehad been thorough, he congratulated himself, as he weighed the bigmanilla envelope containing his own transcription of the copiousshorthand notes he had taken during the first hours of theinvestigation. A smaller envelope held Nita's tell-tale checkbook, heramazing last will and testament, and the still more startling note shehad written to Lydia Carr. The last two Dundee had retrieved fromCarraway only this morning, after having submitted them to thefingerprint expert on Sunday.

  Carraway's report had rather dashed him at first, for it proved that noother hands than Nita's--and his own, of course--had touched eitherenvelope or contents. But he was content now to believe that Nitaherself had unsealed the envelope she had inscribed, "To Be Opened inCase of My Death".... Why?... Had she been moved by an impulse to give aclue to the identity of the person of whom she stood in fear, but hadstifled the impulse?

  Strawn had said, too, that the little rosewood desk had been in a fairlyorderly condition, before his big, official hands had clawed through itin search of a clue or the gun itself.... Well, Strawn had been properlychagrined when Dundee had produced the will and note....

  "Why did she stick it away in a pack of new envelopes, if she wanted itto be found?" Strawn had demanded irritably, and had not been appeasedby Dundee's suggestion: "Because she did not want Lydia, in dusting thedesk, to see it and be alarmed."

  Yes, he had been busy enough, but what, actually, had he to show for hisindustry? He had worked up three good cases--the first against LydiaCarr, the second against Dexter Sprague, and the third against RalphHammond--only to have them knocked to pieces almost as fast as he hadconceived them.... Of course Lydia Carr might be lying to give Spraguean alibi, but Dundee was convinced that she was telling the truth andthat she hated Sprague too much to fake an alibi for him.... Of coursethere was always Judge Marshall, but--

  Through the closed door came sounds which Dundee presently identified asconnected with Penny Crain's arrival--the emphatic click of her heels;the quick opening and shutting of desk drawers....

  The down-hearted young detective debated the question of taking hisperplexities out to her, but decided against it. She probably wanted tohear no more of his theories, was undoubtedly burning with righteousindignation against him because of Ralph Hammond.... Did she stillconsider herself engaged to Ralph, in spite of the fact that youngHammond had gallantly insisted upon releasing her from her promise assoon as he suspected that it had been given merely to prove her faith inhis innocence?

  It was a decidedly unhappy young detective whom Sanderson greeted uponhis arrival at nine o'clock.

  The new district attorney, who had held office since November, was abig, good-natured, tolerant man, who looked younger than his 35 yearsbecause of his freckles and his always rumpled mop of sandy hair. Butthose who sought to take advantage of his good nature in the courtroomfound themselves up against as keen a lawyer and prosecutor as could befound in the whole state, or even in the Middle West.

  "Well, boy!" he greeted Dundee genially but with an undertone ofsolemnity in his rich, jury-swaying baritone. "Looks like we've got asensational murder on our hands. It's not every day Hamilton can rate aheadline like 'BROADWAY BELLE MURDERED AT BRIDGE'--to quote a Chicagopaper.... But I'm afraid there's not enough mystery in it to suit yourtastes."

  Dundee grinned wryly. "I've been pretty down in the mouth all morningbecause there's a little too much mystery, chief."

  "Fairly open-and-shut, isn't it?" Sanderson asked, obviously surprised."New York gets too hot for this Selim baby--probably mixed up with someracketeer, racketeers being the favorite boy-friends of 'Broadwaybelles', if one can believe the tabloids. Lois Dunlap offers her a jobto organize a Little Theater in Hamilton--which the fair Nita wouldcertainly have described as a hick town and which she wouldn't have beenfound dead in if she could have helped it--" and the district attorneygrinned at his own witticism, "--but Broadway Nita jumps at it. Herracketeer sweetie has a long arm, however, and Nita gets hers. Justlyenough, probably, but I wish to the Lord she had chosen some other townto hide in. Lois Dunlap is the finest woman in Hamilton, but she's toodamned promiscuous in her friendships. As it is now, some of the bestfriends I have in the world are mixed up in this mess, even if it isonly as innocent victims of circumstance--"

  Until then Dundee had let his chief express his pent-up convictionswithout interruption, and indeed Sanderson's courtroom training hadfitted him admirably for long speeches. But he could keep silent nolonger.

  "That is what has been worrying me, chief," he interrupted. "CaptainStrawn has given the papers very little real information, but the truthis I am afraid _one_ of your friends was not an innocent victim ofcircumstance."

  District Attorney Sanderson sat down abruptly in the swivel chair at hisdesk. "Just what do you mean, Dundee?"

  "I mean I am convinced that one of Mrs. Selim's _guests_ was hermurderer, but I'd like to tell you the whole story, and let you judgefor yourself."

  "My God!" Sanderson ejaculated. Slowly he drew out a handkerchief andmopped his freckled brow. "If I hadn't had a good many years ofexperience with criminals, Dundee, I'd say it is obvious on the face ofit that none of those four men--Judge Marshall, Tracey Miles, JohnnyDrake, Clive Hammond--could have committed such a cheap, sensationalcrime as murdering a hostess during a bridge game.... Not that I haven'twanted to commit murder myself over many a game of bridge," he added,with the irrepressible humor for which he was famous. Then he groaned,the rueful twinkle still in his eye: "I'm afraid we're in for a lot ofgruesome kidding. Why, last night, in the club car of my train, threetables of bridge players could scarcely play a hand for wisecrackingabout the dangers of being dummy!... Well, boy, now that I've talkedmyself past the worst shock, suppose you give me the low-down. But Iwarn you I'm going to take a powerful lot of convincing."

  Painstakingly, and in the greatest detail, Dundee told the whole story,beginning with his arrival Saturday evening at the Selim house,including the ghastly replaying of the "death hand at bridge"--a phrase,by the way, which the prosecutor instantly adopted--and ending withRalph Hammond's establishing of an alibi, to the entire satisfaction ofCaptain Strawn, as well as of Dundee himself. He was interruptedfrequently of course, scoffingly at first, then with deepening solemnityand respect on the part of the district attorney.

  "Let me see the plan of the house again," he said, when Dundee hadfinished. "Also that table you've worked up showing the approximate timeand order of arrival of the four men.... Thanks!... Hmm!... Hmm!"

  "You see, sir," Dundee repeated at last, "the list of possible suspectsincludes Lydia Carr, Dexter Sprague, John C. Drake, Judge Marshall,Polly Beale, Flora Miles, Janet Raymond, Clive Hammond--"

  "But Polly and Clive were in the solarium _together_ all the time!"Sanderson objected.

  "So they said," Dundee agreed. "But it is a very short trip from thesolarium by way of the side porch into Nita's bedroom. And either PollyBeale or Clive Hammond could have made that trip, on the pretext ofspeaking to Nita about Ralph!... Motive: m
urder to end blackmail.Naturally such a theory would not include _both_ of them, but if _one ofthem_ was being blackmailed and made use of the pretext of warning Nitaof Ralph's overwrought condition--"

  "Sprague's your man!" Sanderson interrupted with relief. "Motive:jealousy because Nita was ditching him to marry Ralph.... As for the gunand silencer, it seems pretty clear to me that Nita herself stole itfrom Judge Marshall, and that Sprague got it away from her. You say themaid, Lydia, went upstairs to tell Sprague he had to pack his things andtake them away--for good!... Very well! Sprague goes down the backstairswith the gun in his pocket, through the back hall into Nita's bedroom,shoots her, bumps into the lamp, goes out by the back door, and comesaround front to join the party.... You say yourself he has admitted toeverything but the trip to Nita's room and the shooting--even tosneaking back to get his bag, which I believe also contained the gununtil he had a chance to dispose of it on his way to his hotel inHamilton."

  Dundee shook his head. "I'd like to agree, chief, but I believe Lydia istelling the truth. She says she was in the upstairs bedroom with Spragueand remained behind only two or three minutes at most, to put hisshaving kit into the packed bag, and to clean up the bathroom basin. Onher way down the backstairs she says she heard Lois Dunlap's second ringand went to answer it. Sprague and Janet Raymond, with whom Janet sayshe stopped to talk a minute on the front porch, were in the dining room_before_ Lydia entered it.... I'm convinced Lydia hates Sprague andwould be glad to believe him guilty.... No, Mr. Sanderson, I don'tbelieve Sprague did it, but I do believe it was Sprague's revenge thatNita was afraid of when she made her will Friday night. Naturally shefigured she'd have time to tell the person she was blackmailing that shewas through with him--or her, but I believe Sprague and Nita werelovers, even partners in blackmail, and that she feared he would killher when he knew she was going to marry Ralph Hammond and give up theirsource of income."

  Sanderson considered for a long minute, pulling at his full lower lip."Well, thank God for those precious footprints Strawn is building on!Don't think I fail to follow your reasoning that the crime _must_ havebeen committed in the bedroom, and not from the window sill, but thosefootprints may save us yet, and will certainly get us through theinquest. You agree, of course, that none of all this you've told me musteven be hinted at during the inquest?... Good! Let's be going. It'snearly ten."

  Dundee's whole soul revolted at the very thought of the barbaric farceof an inquest--the small morgue chapel crowded to the doors withgoggle-eyed, blood-loving humanity; the stretcher with its sheetedcorpse; reporters avid of sensation and primed with questions which, ifanswered by indiscreet witnesses, would defeat the efforts of police anddistrict attorney; news photographers with their insatiable camerasaimed at every person connected with the case in any way.

  Mercifully, this particular inquest upon the body of Juanita Leigh Selimpromised to be quickly over. For Coroner Price, in conference withSanderson, Dundee and Captain Strawn, had gladly agreed to call onlythose witnesses and extract from them only such information as theauthorities deemed advisable.

  Lydia Carr, whose black veil had defeated the news camera levelled ather poor scarred face, was the first witness called by Coroner Price,and she was required for the single purpose of identifying the body asthat of her mistress. To two perfunctory questions--"Have you anyinformation to give this jury regarding the cause and manner of thedeceased's death?" and "Have you any personal knowledge of the identityof any person, man or woman, of whom the deceased stood in fear of herlife?"--Lydia answered a flat "No!" and was then dismissed.

  Karen Marshall, looking far too young to be the wife of the elderlyex-judge, Hugo Marshall, was the second witness called. Dr. Price guidedher gently to a brief recital of her discovery of the dead body of herhostess, emphasizing only the fact that, so far as she could see, thebedroom was unoccupied except by the corpse at the time of thediscovery.

  He then handed her the photostatic copy of a blueprint of the groundfloor of the Selim house, with a pencilled ring drawn around thebedroom. Karen falteringly identified it, as well as the pencil-drawnfurniture, and was immediately dismissed--to the packed rows ofspectators and reporters.

  Dr. Price himself took the stand next and described, in technical terms,the wound which had caused death and the caliber of the bullet he hadextracted from the dead woman's heart.

  "I find, also, from the autopsy," he concluded, "that the bullettraveled a downward-slanting path. I should add, moreover, that I havemade exact mathematical calculations, using the position of the body andof the wound as a basis, and found that a line drawn from the wound, andextended, at the correct slant, ends at a point 51.8 inches high, uponthe right-hand side of the frame of the window nearest the porch door."And he obligingly passed the marked blueprint among the jury. When itwas in his own hands again, he added: "It is impossible to state theexact distance the bullet traveled, more nearly than to say the shot wasfired along the line I have indicated, at a distance of not more thanfifteen feet and not less than ten."

  Captain Strawn rose and was permitted to question the witness:

  "Dr. Price, that blueprint shows that the bedroom is fifteen feet inwidth, don't it?"

  "That is correct."

  "Have you also measured the height of that window sill from the floor?"

  "I have," the coroner answered. "The height from floor to sill is 26inches."

  "Now, doctor, from your calculations, would it be possible for a mancrouching in the open window to fire a shot along the path you havecalculated?"

  "It would," Dr. Price answered. "But as I have pointed out, it isimpossible for me to say at exactly what distance from the body the shotwas fired."

  But Strawn, of course, was amply satisfied. And so were Dundee and thedistrict attorney, for it suited their purposes admirably for the publicto be convinced at this time that an intruding gunman had murdered NitaSelim.

  Captain Strawn, sworn in, told briefly of his being called to the sceneof the crime, of the activities of Carraway, the fingerprint expert, andof the exhaustive search of his squad of detectives.

  "Did you find any person concealed upon the premises, that is, withinthe house itself, or in the garage or on the grounds?" Dr. Price asked.

  "No, sir."

  "Did you or your men discover the weapon with which the deceased waskilled?"

  "No, sir."

  "Did you question all persons in the house at the time of the crime, asto whether or not a shot had been heard?"

  "I did. The answer in every case was that they heard no shot."

  "And you also questioned every person present in an effort to placeresponsibility for the death of Mrs. Selim?"

  "I did. I couldn't find that anyone present had anything to do with it."

  "Who were these persons?" Dr. Price then asked.

  "Judge and Mrs. Hugo Marshall, Mr. and Mrs. Tracey A. Miles, Mr. andMrs. John C. Drake, Mrs. Peter Dunlap, Miss Janet Raymond, Miss PollyBeale, Miss Penelope Crain, Mr. Clive Hammond, Mr. Dexter Sprague--ofNew York, and Mrs. Selim's maid, Lydia Carr," Captain Strawn answeredpromptly, rolling out the names of Hamilton's elect with sonoroussatisfaction, which obviously had the desired effect in convincing thejury that not among those proud names, at least, could be found the nameof the murderer.

  "Did you find on the premises any clue which you consider of importanceto this jury?"

  "I did! A bunch of footprints under the window you've been talkingabout. Here are life-size photographs of 'em, doctor.... And the ramblerrose vines that climb up the outside of the window had been torn."

  After the photographs had been duly inspected by the jury of six Dr.Price said: "That is all, and thank you, Captain Strawn.... Mr. Dundee!"

  As had been agreed between the coroner and the district attorney,Dundee's testimony, after the preliminary questions, was confined to theoffering of Nita Selim's "last will and testament" and the note toLydia.

  The reporters, who had obviously feared that nothing new wouldeventuate,
sat up with startled interest, then their pencils flew, asDundee read the two documents, after he had told when and where he haddiscovered them. As District Attorney Sanderson had said; "Better givethe press something new to chew on, but for God's sake don't mentionthat checkbook of Nita's. It's dynamite, boy--dynamite!"

  While the morgue chapel was still in a buzz of excitement, Dundee wasdismissed, and District Attorney Sanderson requested an adjournment ofthe inquest for one week.

  The police were urging the crowd upon its way before it became fullyaware that it had been cheated of the pleasure of hearing, at firsthand, the stories of that fatal bridge and cocktail party from theguests themselves.

  "Tell the Carr woman I want to speak to her," Sanderson directed Dundee."She'll thank you for rescuing her from the reporters."

  As Dundee pushed his way through the jam he heard a reporter earnestlypleading with Lois Dunlap: "But I'm sure you can remember the cards eachplayer held in that 'death hand,' Mrs. Dunlap--"

  Cheerfully sure that he could trust Lois Dunlap's discretion anddistaste for publicity, Dundee went on, grinning at the reporter's useof his own lurid phrase.

  Two minutes later Sanderson, Strawn and Dundee were closeted in Dr.Price's own office with Lydia Carr.

  "First, Lydia," began Sanderson, "I want to warn you to give thereporters no information at all regarding the nature or extent of yourmistress' bequest."

  "It was little enough she had, poor girl, beyond her clothes and a fewpieces of jewelry," Lydia answered stubbornly. "Are you going to let medo what she told me to, in that note?... Not that I hold with burning--"

  "I see no reason why you should not take charge of the body, Lydia, andarrange it immediately for cremation.... Do you, Captain Strawn?"Sanderson answered.

  "No, sir. The quicker the better."

  "Then, Lydia, if Captain Strawn will send you out to the Selim housewith one of his boys, you may get the dress described in Mrs. Selim'snote--"

  "And the curls she cut off and had made into switches," Lydiainterrupted. "I can't dress my poor girl's hair in a French roll withoutthem!"

  "The curls, too," Sanderson agreed. "Now as to the cremation--"

  "Mrs. Miles let me come in early to see about that," Lydia interruptedagain. "They can do it this afternoon, and you don't need to worry aboutthe expense. I've got money enough of my own to pay my girl's funeralexpenses."

  "Good!" Sanderson applauded. "The will shall be probated as soon aspossible, of course, but it makes it simpler if you will pay thenecessary expenses now."

  "Just a minute, chief," Dundee halted the district attorney as he wasabout to leave. "Under the circumstances, I think it highly advisablethat we get pictures of the burial dress. I suggest you have Lydia bringthe things to your office before she lays out the body, and thatCarraway photograph the dress there, from all angles. I should also liketo have a picture of the body after Lydia has finished her services."

  The maid's scarred face flushed a deep, angry red, but she offered noprotest when the district attorney accepted both of Dundee'ssuggestions.

  "Then you'll have Carraway with his camera at my office in about anhour?" Sanderson turned to Captain Strawn. "Let's say twelve o'clock. Bythe way, Lydia, you may bring in with you the few pieces of jewelry youmentioned. I'll keep them safely in my offices until the will isprobated and they are turned over to you."

  "I don't know where she kept them," Lydia answered.

  "_What?_" exclaimed Bonnie Dundee.

  "I said I don't know where she kept her jewelry," Lydia Carr retorted."It wasn't worth much--not a hundred dollars altogether, I'll be bound,because Nita sold her last diamond not a week before we left New York.She owed so many bills then that the money she got for directing thatplay at the Forsyte School hardly made a dent on them."

  "Do you know whether the jewelry was kept in the house or in a safedeposit box?" Dundee asked, excitement sharpening his voice.

  "It must have been in the house, because she wore the different piecesany time she pleased," the maid answered. "I didn't ask no questions,and I didn't happen to see her get it out or put it away. I didn't everdo much lady's-maid work for her, like dressing her or fixing herhair--just kept her clothes and the house in order, and did what littlecooking there was to do--"

  "Her dressing-table?" Dundee prodded. "Her desk?"

  The maid shook her head. "I was always straightening up the drawers inboth her dressing-table and her desk, and she didn't keep the jewelry ineither one of them places."

  "Captain Strawn, when you searched the dressing-table and desk for thegun or anything of importance, did you have any reason to suspect asecret drawer in either of them?"

  "No, Bonnie. They're just ordinary factory furniture. I tapped aroundfor a secret drawer, of course, but there wasn't even any place forone," Strawn assured him with an indulgent grin.

  "I want to see Penny Crain!" Dundee cried, making for the door.

  "Then you'd better come along to the courthouse with me," Sandersoncalled after him. "I sent her back to the office as soon as the inquestwas adjourned."

  The two men passed through the now deserted morgue chapel and almostbumped into a middle-aged man, obviously of the laboring class in spiteof his slicked-up, Sunday appearance.

  "You're the district attorney, ain't you, sir?" he addressed Sandersonin a nervous, halting undertone.

  "Yes. What is it?"

  "I come to the inquest to give some information, sir, but it wasadjourned so quick I didn't have time--"

  "Who are you?" Sanderson interrupted impatiently.

  "I'm Rawlins, sir. I worked for the poor lady, Mrs. Selim--gardening oneday a week--"

  "Come to my office!" Sanderson commanded quickly, as a lingeringreporter approached on a run.... "No, no! I'm sorry, Harper," he saidhastily, cutting into the reporter's questions. "Nothing new! You maysay that the police have thrown out a dragnet--" and he grinned at thetrite phrase "--for the gunman who killed Mrs. Selim, and will offer areward for the recovery of the weapon--a Colt's .32 equipped with aMaxim silencer.... Come along, George, and I'll explain just what Mrs.Sanderson and I have in mind."

  The district attorney and Dundee strode quickly away, and the man,Rawlins, after a moment of indecision, trotted after them.

  "I don't understand, sir, and my name ain't George. It's Elmer."

  "You don't have to understand anything, except that you're not to answerany question that any reporter asks you," Sanderson retorted.

  When the trio entered the reception room of the district attorney'ssuite in the courthouse Sanderson paused at Penny Crain's desk:

  "Bring in your notebook, Penny. This man has some information heconsiders important."

  A minute later Sanderson had begun to question his voluntary but highlynervous witness.

  "Your name?"

  "It's Elmer Rawlins, like I told you, sir," the man protested, andflinched as Penny recorded his words in swift shorthand. "It was my wifeas made me come. She said as long as me and her knowed I didn't donothing wrong, I'd oughta come forward and tell what I knowed."

  "Yes, yes!" Sanderson encouraged him impatiently. "You say you workedfor Mrs. Selim as gardener one day a week--"

  "Yes, sir, but I 'tended to her hot water and her garbage, too--twice aday it was I had to go and stoke the little laundry heater that heatsthe hot water tank in summertime when the steam furnace ain't beingused. I live about a mile beyant the Crain place, that is, the house thepoor lady was killed in--"

  "Did you come to stoke the laundry heater Saturday evening?" Dundeeinterrupted. "Excuse me, sir," he turned to the district attorney, "butthis is the first time I've seen this man."

  "No, sir, I didn't stoke it Sat'dy night," Rawlins answered uneasily."You see, I was comin' up the road to do my chores at half past six,like I always do, but before I got to the house I seen a lot ofpolicemen's cars and motorcycles, and I didn't want to get mixed up innothing, so I turned around and went home again. I didn't know what wasup, but when me
and the wife went into Hamilton Sat'dy night in ourflivver we seen one of the extries and read about how the poor lady wasmurdered. But that ain't what I was gittin' at, sir--"

  "Well, what _are_ you getting at?" Sanderson urged.

  "Well, the extry said the police had found some footprints under thefrontmost of them two side windows to Mis' Selim's bedroom, and went onto talk about the rose vines being tore, and straight off I said to themissus, 'Them's _my_ footprints, Minnie'--Minnie's my wife's name--"

  "_Your_ footprints!" Sanderson ejaculated, then shook with silentlaughter. "There goes Strawn's case, Bonnie!" But immediately he wasserious again, as the import of this new evidence came to him. "Tell usall about it, Rawlins.... When did you make those footprints?"

  "Friday, sir. That's the day I gardened for Mis' Selim.... You see, sir,the poor little lady told me she was kept awake nights when they was ahigh wind, by the rose vines tapping against the windows. Says she, 'Ithink they's somebody tryin' to git into my room, Elmer,' and I couldsee the poor little thing was mighty nervous anyway, so I didn't wasteno time. I cut away a lot of the rose vine and burned it when I wasburnin' the garbage and papers in the 'cinerator out back."

  "Is that all, Rawlins?" Sanderson asked.

  "'Bout all that 'mounts to anything," the laborer deprecated. "But theywas somethin' else that struck me as a little funny, when I come tothink of it--"

  "Well?" Sanderson prodded, as the man halted uncertainly.

  "Well, it's like I told you, it was my job to burn the papers. Thatscar-face maid of Mis' Selim's put everything--garbage and trash--in abig garbage can outside the back door, and I burnt 'em up. So I waskinder surprised Sat'dy mornin', when I went to stoke up the laundryheater, to find somebody'd been meddlin' with my drafts and had let thefire go clean out. I had to clean out the ashes and build a new fire--"

  "You're trying to say, I suppose, that you could tell by the ashes thatsomeone had been burning papers in the laundry heater?" Sanderson asked,with a quick glance at Dundee's tense face.

  "That's right, sir," Rawlins agreed eagerly. "You know what kind ofashes a mess o' paper makes--layers of white ashes, sir, that kinderlooks like papers yit."

  "Yes, I know.... And you found layers of white ashes, which you tookparticular pains to clean out?" Sanderson asked bitterly.

  "Yes, sir. So's I could build a new fire--"

  "Did you speak to the maid--ask her if she'd been 'meddlin' with yourdrafts'?"

  "Yes, sir, I did!" the man answered with a trace of the belligerence hehad undoubtedly shown to Lydia. "She said _she_ didn't open no dampers,claimed the heater was the same as usual when she left Friday night togo to a movie. So I reckin it was the poor lady herself, burnin' up loveletters, maybe, or some such truck--"

  "You're to keep your 'reckins' to yourself, Rawlins," Sanderson cut inemphatically. "Remember, now, you're not to tell anybody else whatyou've just told me.... If that's all, you can go now, and I'm muchobliged to you. Leave your address with the young lady here. You'll beneeded later, of course."

  The relieved man hurried out of the room on Penny's heels. Sandersonshrugged, then, when the door had closed, began heavily:

  "It looks like you're right, Bonnie, about that blackmail business.As the astute Rawlins says, 'love letters, maybe, or some suchtruck....' Of course it all fits in with your theory that Nita had madeup her mind to reform, marry Ralph Hammond, and be a very good girlindeed.... All right! You can have Penny in now. I think I know prettywell what you're going to ask her. And I may as well tell you that whenRoger Crain skipped town with some securities he was known to possess, hehadn't got them from a safe deposit box, because he didn't have one," andSanderson pressed a button on the edge of his desk....

  "Penny, do you know whether there is a concealed safe in the Selimhouse?"

  The girl, startled, began to shake her head, then checked herself. "Notthat I ever saw, or knew of when Dad and Mother and I lived there,but--" She hesitated, her cheeks turning scarlet.

  "Out with it, Penny!" Sanderson urged, his voice very kind.

  "It's just that, if you really think there's a secret hiding place inthe house, I believe I understand something that puzzled me when ithappened," Penny confessed, her head high. "I was at the Country Clubone night--a Saturday night when the whole crowd is usually there forthe dinner and dance. I'd been dancing with--with Ralph, and when themusic stopped we went out on the porch, where several of our crowd weresitting. It was--just two or three weeks after--after Dad left town.Lois wouldn't let me drop out of things.... Anyway, it was dark and Iheard Judge Marshall saying something about 'the simplest and mostingenious arrangement you ever saw. Of course that's where the rascalkept his securities--...' I knew they were talking about Dad, from theway Judge Marshall shut up and changed the subject as soon as he sawme."

  "Who was on the porch, Penny?" Dundee asked tensely.

  "Why, let's see--Flora, and Johnny Drake, and Clive," she answeredslowly. "I think that was all, besides Judge Marshall. The others hadn'tcome out from dancing.... Of course I don't know whether or not it wassome 'arrangement' in the house--"

  "Where are you going, boy?" Sanderson checked Dundee, who was already onhis way to the door.

  "To find that gun, of course!"

  "Well, if it's tucked away in the 'simplest and most ingeniousarrangement you ever saw' it will stay put for a while," Sanderson said."Lydia's due here within half an hour, and you don't want to miss her,do you?"