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"Oh, I knew he was innocent for a dozen reasons. "
"Even so, didnt the Carr woman know about Broadfields apartment?"
I nodded. "As a matter of fact, she did. But she couldnt have led her killer there because she was unconscious when she made the trip. She was hit on the head first and then stabbed. It stood to reason that shed been hit elsewhere. Otherwise the killer would have just gone on hitting her until she was dead. He wouldnt have stopped to pick up a knife. But what you did, Claude, was knock her out somewhere else and then get her to Broadfields apartment. By then youd disposed of whatever youd hit her with, so you finished the job with a knife. "
"I think Ill have a cup of chocolate. Youre sure you wouldnt care for some?"
"Positive. I didnt want to believe a cop would kill Portia Carr in order to frame Broadfield. Everything pointed that way, but I didnt like the feel of it. I preferred the idea that framing Broadfield was a handy way to get away with murder, that the killers main object was to get rid of Portia. But then how would he know about Broadfields apartment and phone number? What I needed was somebody who was connected to both of them. And I found somebody, but there was no motive apparent. "
"You must mean me," he said calmly. "Since I certainly had no motive. But then I didnt know the Carr person either, and barely knew Broadfield, so your reasoning breaks down, doesnt it?"
"Not you. Douglas Fuhrmann. He was going to ghostwrite Broadfields book. Thats why Broadfield had turned informer- he wanted to be somebody important and write a bestseller. He got the idea from Carr because she was going to go the Happy Hooker one better. Fuhrmann got the idea of playing both ends and got in touch with Carr to see if he could write her book, too. Thats what tied the two of them together- it has to be- but its not a murder motive. "
"Then why am I elected? Because you dont know of anyone else?"
I shook my head. "I knew it was you before I really knew why. I asked you yesterday afternoon if you knew anything about Doug Fuhrmann. You knew enough about him to go over to his house last night and kill him. "
"This is remarkable. Now Im being accused of the murder of a man I never heard of. "
"It wont work, Claude. Fuhrmann was a threat to you because hed been talking with both of them, with Carr and with Broadfield. He was trying to reach me last night. If Id had time to see him, maybe you wouldnt have been able to kill him. And maybe you would have, because maybe he didnt know what he knew. You were one of Portia Carrs clients. "
"Thats a filthy lie. "
"Maybe its filthy. I wouldnt know. I dont know what you did with her or what she did with you. I could make some educated guesses. "
"Damn you, youre an animal. " He didnt raise his voice, but the loathing in it was fierce. "I will thank you not to talk like that in the same house with my mother. "
I just looked at him. He met my eyes with confidence at first, and then his face seemed to melt. All the resolve went out of it. His shoulders sagged, and he looked at once much older and much younger. Just a middle-aged little boy.
"Knox Hardesty knew," I went on. "So you killed Portia for nothing. I can pretty much figure out what happened, Claude. When Broadfield turned up at Prejanians office, you learned about more than police corruption. You learned through Broadfield that Portia was in Knox Hardestys pocket, feeding him her client list in order to escape deportation. You were on that list and you figured it was just a question of time before she handed you over to him.
"So you got Portia to press charges against Broadfield, accusing him of extortion. You wanted to give him a motive for killing her, and that was an easy one to arrange. She thought you were a cop when you called her, and it was easy enough for her to go along with it. One way or another, you managed to scare her pretty well. Whores are easy to scare.
"At this point you had Broadfield set up beautifully. You didnt even have to be particularly brilliant about the murder itself because the cops would be so anxious to tie it to Broadfield. You decoyed Portia to the Village at the same time that you sent Broadfield off to Brooklyn. Then you knocked her out, dragged her into his apartment, killed her, and got out of there. You dropped the knife in a sewer, washed your hands, and came on home to Mama. "
"Leave my mother out of this. "
"That bothers you, doesnt it? My mentioning your mother?"
"Yes, it does. " He was squeezing his hands together as if to control them. "It bothers me a great deal. Thats why youre doing it, I suppose. "
"Not entirely, Claude. " I drew a breath. "You shouldnt have killed her. There was no point to it. Hardesty already knew about you. If hed thrown your name into the open at the beginning, a lot of time would have been saved and Fuhrmann and Manch would still be alive. But- "
"Manch?"
"Leon Manch. It looked as though he might have killed Fuhrmann, but the timing was wrong. And then it looked as though you might have set it up, but you would have done it better. You would have killed them in the right order, wouldnt you? First Fuhrmann and then Manch, and not the other way around. "
"I dont know what youre talking about. "
And this time he evidently didnt, and the difference in his tone was obvious. "Leon Manch was another name on Portias client list. He was also Knox Hardestys pipeline into the mayors office. I called him yesterday afternoon and arranged to see him, and I guess he couldnt handle it. He jumped out a window last night. "
"He actually killed himself. "
"It looks that way. "
"He could have killed Portia Carr. " He said it not argumentatively but thoughtfully.
I nodded. "He could have killed her, yes. But he couldnt have killed Fuhrmann because Fuhrmann made a couple of telephone calls after Manch had been officially pronounced dead. You see what that means, Claude?"
"What?"
"All you had to do was leave that little writer alone. You couldnt know it, but that was all you had to do. Manch left a note. He didnt confess to murder, but it could have been interpreted that way. I would certainly have interpreted it that way and I would have done everything possible to pin the Carr murder on Manchs dead body. If I managed it, Broadfield was clear. If not, he would stand trial himself. Either way, you would have been home free because I would have settled on Manch as the killer and the cops had already settled on Broadfield and that left nobody in the world hunting for you. "
He said nothing for a long time. Then he narrowed his eyes and said, "Youre trying to trap me. "
"Youre already trapped. "
"She was an evil, filthy woman. "
"And you were the Lords avenging angel. "
"No. Nothing of the sort. You are trying to trap me, and it wont work. You cant prove a thing. "
"I dont have to. "
"Oh?"
"I want you to come over to the police station with me, Claude. I want you to confess to the murders of Portia Carr and Douglas Fuhrmann. "
"You must be insane. "
"No. "
"Then you must think Im insane. Why on earth would I do something like that? Even if I did commit murder- "
"To spare yourself, Claude. "
"I dont understand. "
I looked at my watch. It was still early, and I felt as though Id been awake for months.
"You said I cant prove anything," I told him. "And I said you were right. But the police can prove it. Not now, but after theyve spent some time digging. Knox Hardesty can establish that you were a client of Portia Carrs. He gave me the information once I was able to show him how it was bound up in murder, and hell hardly hold it back in court. And you can bet that somebody saw you with Portia in the Village and somebody saw you on Ninth Avenue when you killed Fuhrmann. Theres always a witness, and when the police and the district attorneys office are both putting in time, the witnesses tend to turn up. "
"Then let them turn up these people if they exist. Why should I confess to make things easier for them?"
"Because youd be making things easi
er for yourself, Claude. So much easier. "
"That doesnt make sense. "
"If the police dig, theyll get everything, Claude. Theyll find out why you were seeing Portia Carr. Right now nobody knows. Hardesty doesnt know, I dont know, no one does. But if they dig, theyll find out. And there will be insinuations in the newspapers, and people will suspect things, perhaps theyll suspect worse than the truth- "
"Stop it. "
"Everyone will know about it, Claude. " I inclined my head toward the closed door. "Everyone," I said.
"Damn you. "
"You could spare her that knowledge, Claude. Of course a confession might also get you a lighter sentence. It theoretically cant happen in Murder One, but you know how the game is played. It certainly wouldnt hurt your chances. But I think thats a secondary consideration as far as youre concerned, Claude. Isnt it? I think youd like to save yourself some scandal. Am I right?"
He opened his mouth but closed it without speaking.
"You could keep your motive a secret, Claude. You could invent something. Or just refuse to explain. No one would pressure you, not if youd already confessed to homicide. People close to you would know you had committed murder, but they wouldnt have to know other things about your life. "
He lifted his cup of chocolate to his lips. He sipped it, returned it to its saucer.
"Claude- "
"Just let me think for a moment, will you?"
"All right. "
I dont know how long we remained like that, me standing, him seated before the silent television set. Say five minutes. Then he sighed, scuffed off his slippers, reached to put on a pair of shoes. He tied them and got to his feet. I walked to the door and opened it and stood aside so he could precede me through it into the living room.
He said, "Mother, Ill be going out for a little while. Mr. Scudder needs my help. Something important has come up. "
"Oh, but your dinner, Claude. Its almost ready. Perhaps your friend would care to join us?"
I said, "Im afraid not, Mrs. Lorbeer. "
"Theres just no time, Mother," Claude agreed. "Ill have to have dinner out. "
"Well, if it cant be helped. "
He squared his shoulders, went to the front closet for a coat. "Now wear your heavy overcoat," she told him. "Its turned quite cold outside. It is cold out, isnt it, Mr. Scudder?"
"Yes," I said. "Its very cold out. "
Chapter 16
My second trip to the Tombs was very different from my first. It was about the same hour of the day, around eleven in the morning, but this time Id had a good, full nights sleep and very little to drink the night before. Id seen him in a cell the first time. Now I was meeting him and his lawyer at the front desk. He had left all that tension and depression in his cell and he looked like the conquering hero.
He and Seldon Wolk were already on hand when I walked in. Broadfields face lit up at the sight of me. "Theres my man," he called out. "Matt, baby, youre the greatest. Absolutely the greatest. If I did one intelligent thing in my life, it was getting hooked up with you. " And he was pumping my hand and beaming down at me. "Didnt I tell you I was getting out of this toilet? And didnt you turn out to be the guy to spring me?" He inclined his head conspiratorially, lowered his voice to a near-whisper. "And Im a guy knows how to say thank you so you know I mean it. You got a bonus coming, buddy. "
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