by Lionel White
The minute I gave the girl my name, she said she had a message for me. Glitz had left a number at which to call him if I should get his message before midnight.
I dialed it.
He sounded wide awake.
“Ran into your friend Giddeon,” he said, almost at once. “He was out at a bar and grill in Syosset, a place where the Grant woman and your client used to hang out. I didn’t know who he was but he overheard me asking the bartender some questions. But by the time he’d got to me, I’d learned several things. Ginny Grant and Merriweather
used the place as a rendezvous. Been meeting there for months.”
“Well, I know they had been seeing each other,” I said.
“That isn’t all of it,” Glitz said. “Our friend Jake Harbor also hung around the place. From what I learned, he did a little bookmaking on the side and he used the spot as a sort of headquarters. He and the Grant girl were friends all right. She used to run around with him. From what I gather, it was Harbor who introduced Merriweather to Ginny Grant. So far as anyone knows, the three of them remained friends.”
“Did Giddeon learn that,” I asked.
“Of course he did,” Glitz said. “Remember what I told you—the police aren’t stupid. They learn everything sooner or later. Anyway, the point is this. Merriweather and Harbor certainly knew each other. Your client used to make bets with him. So I’m afraid Charles Merriweather has been lying to you.”
I didn’t say anything for a while. There was no answer.
Finally I began. “I can’t see what he and Merriweather could have had in common,” but he quickly interrupted me.
“They had the girl, at least for a time,” he said. “But from what I learned, there were no hard feelings when Merriweather began going kind of steady with her. So far as anyone knows, he and Harbor remained friends, or at least remained on a friendly basis. I think you better see your boy and find out what the score is. Another thing, now that Giddeon has found out that Merriweather knew the dead man, it’s going to make it a damned sight tougher to spring him on bail.”
We talked for a few more minutes and I must admit that my end of the conversation was pretty meaningless. I didn’t know where I was at. I ended up asking Glitz to find out, if he could, if Harbor had come into some sudden money recently. I gave him the dates on which Merriweather had made those two large withdrawals. Glitz didn’t ask any questions and I hesitated to tell him what was in the back of my mind. I didn’t want to tell him that I suspected my client might have been paying off blackmail.
“I’m going to have to take it a little easy,” Glitz said before hanging up. “Lieutenant Giddeon isn’t very keen about having private detectives messing around with cases he’s working on. By the way, he gave me a message for you. Said he would advise you to produce Mrs. Merriweather for questioning as soon as you can. Sort of hinted otherwise he might put out a wanted on her. He wasn t too friendly.”
We talked a minute or two more and I hung up after telling him I would get in touch with him sometime the following afternoon. I told him to keep on with his investigation of Harbor, but not to ignore Ginny Grant.
Then I called police headquarters in Mineola. I wasn’t surprised when I was told that Lieutenant Giddeon was not in and was not expected. I figured that he at least had enough sense to get a decent night’s sleep. But I left a message for him, along with my name.
I left word that I would bring Mrs. Merriweather in at eleven o’clock the following morning.
CHAPTER NINE
I saw Charles Merriweather the following morning at ten o’clock. I had already called Ann Merriweather and given her instructions to meet me in Mineola, at the County Courthouse, at eleven. I told her to take a cab and come out; that it would be better if she arrived alone. I didn’t want Lieutenant Giddeon thinking that I had conspired to keep her concealed.
There was no difficulty about seeing my client. He seemed rested and a great deal more at ease than when I had previously spoken to him. He asked me immediately what I had done about seeking his release.
“I am making an application for bail today,” I told him, “but whether we’ll get it or not is difficult to say. I have every reason to believe that the district attorney is going to fight it. The police have been very busy, as I warned you. They have uncovered a number of very damaging bits of evidence. I don’t want to upset you, Charles,” I continued, “but you have made a grave mistake in concealing certain facts from me.”
“Concealing facts?”
“Yes, Charles,” I said. “First about this man Jake Harbor. The police have learned that you and the Grant girl knew him. Whatever possessed you to attempt to conceal the fact? Didn’t you realize that it was bound to come out?”
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“Did Ginny tell them that?” Charles asked quickly.
“No,” I said. “Or at least, when she talked with me, she denied knowing him. I assume that she also denied it to the police. But denying it won’t change the facts at all.”
If I expected Charles to be surprised or embarrassed, I was wasting my time. He merely shrugged it off.
“Well,” he said, “I did know him, just slightly. He was a bookmaker and I made bets with him now and then. Mostly over the telephone. I doubt if I actually saw the man personally more than two or three times. That’s why I didn’t recognize him when I saw his body.”
I looked up at him sharply.
“Is that going to be your story?”
“Now, Howard,” he said, “don’t be stuffy about this. Of course that’s my story. Good Lord, I barely knew the man, never really had anything to do with him.”
“Charles,” I said, “it’s essential that you tell me the truth. If I am to defend you, I have to know everything there is to know. I have to be prepared to counter any information that the district attorney may have available.”
“Well, what is it you want to know?”
“Were Harbor and the Grant woman lovers at some time in the past? ” I asked.
He swung around and stared at me.
“Of course not,” he said, his voice indignant. “What in the world ever put such an idea into your head? ”
“It isn’t any idea I have,” I said. “But if the police start digging into things, and discover that perhaps they were, well, then you can see what it will lead to.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “They knew each other. The same way I knew Harbor. He was a bookie and he took bets in a place where Ginny and I sometimes met for a drink. That’s all there was to it.”
“Well, all right,” I said. “But I hope you realize how serious this is. Now about those bets you made with Harbor.”
“Mostly over the telephone,” he interrupted.
“Yes, I know,” I said. “But tell me, were they big bets? Large sums? Did you ever lose and pay any really substantial sums to Harbor?”
Charles shook his head.
“Peanuts,” he said. “Just a few two or five dollar bets. Never anything big.”
“I must warn you, Charles,” I said. “If you did make large bets, either paid or owed the man important money, there is bound to be a record of it and it will come out.”
Merriweather shook his head.
“I never bet more than a few dollars. Probably my total transactions wouldn’t have come to a hundred dollars in all.”
“And Miss Grant? Did she—”
“No,” he said. “Not that I can see what that has to do with it, but I can assure you that she never made any big bets or lost important money.”
“Well, then there is one more thing. I know this may embarrass you, but you will probably have to answer the same questions in court and it’s better that we go over it now. Were you keeping the Grant woman? Supporting her?”
Again he shook his head.
“Certainly not. I was seeing her—we liked each other. That was all. She is a model and she works periodically. Makes damned good money as a matter of fact. Of course I have bought her small presen
ts, a portable radio, flowers, dinners and things like that. But I haven’t been supporting her and I have never given her any money.”
“You haven’t loaned her any money? Fairly large amounts?”
“Not even small amounts,” Charles said. “It wasn’t that kind of relationship at all.”
I was very much tempted to mention his savings account and the two large withdrawals, but then decided not to do so. I realized that Charles Merriweather was concealing a great deal from me. He still wasn’t really worried. He figured he had his alibi and that it would be enough. I didn’t think he would talk until he got turned down for bail. And then perhaps he would realize the seriousness of his position and try to cooperate.
He asked me about my conversation with the Grant girl and I told him pretty much of what had taken place. But I didn’t mention the photo album or the picture I had taken away with me. Unblushingly, he asked about Ann and I told him that she would be in to see Lieutenant Giddeon within the hour.
“Well, what do the police want with her?” he asked.
I was a little amazed at his naivete.
“Well, after all, Charles,” I said, “She was home all evening. The man is almost sure to have been killed at the house, according to the police theory. Now if your story is right and you had nothing to do with it, the police
are certainly interested in anyone who might have been around at the time the crime took place.”
“But they know,” Charles said, “about the sleeping pills. Besides, Ann had never even heard of the man, she couldn’t possibly have known him. I can’t understand how the police can be so damned silly as to—”
“The police only know that someone killed him and put that body in the car trunk,” I said. “They have to follow whatever leads they have. And right now—”
“Right now they have no leads,” he finished for me. “That’s their trouble—they really don’t have any leads.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure, Charles,” I said. “In any case, I’m going to have to go now. I’ve promised to be with Ann when she sees Lieutenant Giddeon.”
The lieutenant couldn’t have been more courteous. He had no objection to my being present while he questioned Ann Merriweather, and he put the entire thing on a very informal basis. There was no one else present in his office, no member of the district attorney’s staff and no stenographer. He was almost apologetic as he invited us in and held out a chair for Ann. There were no recriminations about her having disappeared, somewhat to my amazement.
“Very glad that you could come in, Mrs. Merriweather,” he said, after greeting each of us. “I understand that an application is being made for bail for your husband and I am pleased to have a chance to speak with you before it comes up this afternoon.”
Ann nodded, looking over at me.
“Mrs. Merriweather is anxious to cooperate in any way she can,” I said.
“Well,” the lieutenant said, not looking at either of us but staring out the window. “Well, I hate to have to tell you this, but we are going to fight any effort to let Mr. Merriweather out on bail. The fact is,” he said, hesitating just a bit as though unwilling to continue, but then going on anyway, “the fact is, the district attorney is going to ask for an indictment on a first degree murder charge.”
Ann gasped, half rising in her seat. I must admit that I was surprised myself, although I shouldn’t have been.
“But,” Ann said, “but, Lieutenant. I understand that my husband has an absolutely airtight alibi for the time during which the crime was committed.” She blushed as she said it and I felt sick with embarrassment for her.
“Your husband has an alibi, true enough,” the lieutenant said. “Unfortunately, the district attorney doesn’t believe that it is quite as airtight as you seem to think it is. However, all that is beside the point. The matter of an indictment is out of my department. My function is solely investigative. And that is why I want to talk with you. I still feel that there is a great deal about this matter that has not come out as yet. I suppose you know, Mrs. Merriweather, that your husband did know the dead man?”
Ann looked at me blankly.
“Charles knew him?”
“Yes. He knew him. I might even go further. We have reason to believe that it is possible that Harbor may have been blackmailing your husband.”
“Blackmailing Charles!” There was no question about
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the surprise in her voice. “I certainly find that difficult to believe,” Ann said. “Why—”
“Not so difficult, Mrs. Merriweather.” The lieutenant spoke very gently and this time he looked directly at her. “By the way, were you aware of the fact that your husband was having an affair with this Grant girl.”
If Lieutenant Giddeon expected the question to surprise Ann, he was disappointed. She didn’t change expression when she answered and she didn’t hesitate.
“I had no knowledge of it at all,” she said. “I never even knew that she existed, up until yesterday afternoon when my attorney—” she nodded over toward me— “told me about it and told me that Mr. Merriweather had spent Sunday night, or rather Monday morning, with her.”
She was very pale as she spoke, but her voice was under control.
“I can’t believe that it was a very serious affair,” she said.
Giddeon nodded. “Possibly not,” he said. “But we do know that the two have been seeing each other for some time. We know that Harbor knew about the relationship. We believe that it is quite possible Harbor was shaking your husband down on the threat of telling you about the affair. It sort of establishes a possible motive—”
“Charles wouldn’t kill anyone,” Ann said. “Believe me, he wouldn’t. Certainly not for any such reason as that. It is possible he might to protect me or in self-defense, but—” She hesitated, looking over at me with a question in her eyes.
“Lieutenant,” I said, interrupting, “I think it’s time that Mrs. Merriweather told you something. I don’t know
whether it has any bearing on this case or not, but it very well may have. I am only sorry that you weren’t informed when the matter occurred.”
“Yes, Counselor?”
He looked at me curiously and then turned back to Ann.
“Mr. Yates advised me to come to the police about this when it first happened,” Ann said. “Foolishly enough, I didn’t take his advice. Of course I still don’t know just what it means, but I agree now that the police should know about it. It happened a couple of weeks ago. I was home alone one night—”
She went on then, speaking in a slow, careful voice, trying to remember every detail as it had occurred. She told him all about it, about the threat on her life and her coming to me and asking my advice.
The lieutenant just sat there listening, his face completely expressionless. It was impossible to tell how he was reacting to the story, but for my part, listening to Ann Merriweather tell what had occurred, I couldn’t see how he could fail to take it seriously. When she had finished, he asked her a number of questions, the name of her veterinarian, of her doctor and things like that. He had made a few notes as she talked and finally, after he was through questioning her, he turned to me and said, “It is a shame that this wasn’t reported. Frankly, I don’t quite know what it means, but we shall certainly make an investigation.”
Later he excused Ann, who said that she wanted to return to her house at Fairlawn. He asked me to stay on for a few minutes as he wished to speak to me alone.
“That story,” he said. “I will, of course, make an investigation, although I really don’t know what it will prove. Also I will discuss it with the district attorney. But I should warn you, I doubt very much if he will believe it.”
“But why shouldn’t he?” I asked. “Why in the world shouldn’t he believe it?”
“Well,” the lieutenant shrugged and I suddenly realized that he himself didn’t believe a word that Ann had said, “well, coming now, at this late date, and especially after t
his other thing, it just sounds sort of contrived. I know how the D.A.’s mind will work. He’ll look for a rat.”
“Look for a rat?” I was indignant.
“Why yes,” he said, smiling thinly. “He’ll figure it’s the sort of tall tale that a defense attorney may introduce into a case in an effort to open up possibilities—”
“Really, Lieutenant,” I began, but he held up his hand and smiled.
“I am not suggesting that you have made up this story,” he said. “I am merely telling you how the district attorney will react to it. Right now, you see, he feels he has a pretty solid case. The way he puts it together, Merriweather was having this affair on the side. Harbor knew it. Harbor was blackmailing your client. And so Merriweather killed him. Lured him to his house or at least into the garage of the house, on some pretext. Possibly to make a payoff. And then he shot him and stuffed the body into the trunk hoping to get rid of it on his sales trip. He had the bad luck to have a flat on the parkway and have a state trooper come along before he could do anything about it. It seems like a very solid case, especially as your client’s only alibi witness is the woman with whom he had been having an affair and who would have every reason to go into court and perjure herself for him. After all, what other theory is there? We have checked into Mrs. Merriweather’s own story. Talked to her doctor and know that she was taking sleeping pills. Know that she could have been there, sleeping, when the man was killed and wouldn’t have awakened. We have been unable to trace any possible relationship between her and the murdered man.
“Somebody had to kill him; somebody had to put the body in the car. Merriweather seems to fit perfectly. So you can see that any belated story about Mrs. Merriweather having been threatened will look, at this late date, pretty much like a red herring.”
There really wasn’t much I could say.
“But, Lieutenant,” I managed at last, “suppose your theory is correct, or rather the district attorney’s theory? Say that my client was being blackmailed and that he did kill this man. He could have been threatened, couldn’t he? There can be mitigating circumstances? It wouldn’t be first degree murder? ”