I said, “There’s only one pudgy man here, Jeff. Titwillow.”
XVII
“IT WAS THIS WAY,” Jeff said. “I got into the wrong room.”
We were back in my little house. It was dawn before we finished our firelight inspection of the clothes, doused the fire, and got back to town. Neither of us was sleepy by the time we reached my place, so I made coffee and toast and now Jeff was happily gorging himself.
Jeff went on, “There wasn’t much light and I was blundering around when a female voice said, ‘Who’s there?’ “ Jeff grinned at me. “It takes quick action in a case like that, O’Hara. And I provided it. Right back, I said, ‘It’s Arthur, darling.’ ”
“Wonderful,” I said scornfully. “Only Daisy Willow doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who would let even her fiance in her room. Especially if that fiance happened to be young Frew.”
“She isn’t,” Jeff admitted sadly. “ ‘You get out of here,’ she said, or I’ll scream.’ And before I could move two steps, she screamed.”
“So,” he continued, “I wrestled with her. But I missed my aim and she kept on yelling. You know, O’Hara, I like you better. You wouldn’t have screamed.”
“I’d have got up and belted you one,” I told him.
“Probably. Anyway, I had to bolt for it. I got back on the balcony just as a door into the hall opened. It was one of Tiffin’s men. And I made tracks. Right into Delhart’s room.” Jeff paused and looked triumphant while he dunked his sixth piece of toast.
“And I caught Willow. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when we decided our treasure was his clothing. He was standing by the door, listening to the racket in the hall. He had on an old blue flannel bathrobe and leather slippers and a nightcap.”
“A what?”
“He’s partially bald, isn’t he? It was a night cap,” Jeff insisted. “So I stood behind a drapery while he was at the door. Listening, I suppose. I didn’t see his face but his back had that eavesdropping stance. And when the noise subsided he cracked the door and ducked out.”
“Are you sure it was Willow? Hilton isn’t very big. Neither is Mrs. Willow.”
“It was Willow,” he said. “Pudgy, you know.” He made vague motions with his hands in an effort to show me how pudgy Willow was. I stopped him when the toast he held in one hand began to flip drops of coffee over me.
He ate the toast and said, “Then I got into Glory’s room and had my hands on that black bathing cap you wore and a nifty two-piece black suit. Trunks and halter.” He rolled his eyes. “On you it would have looked swell.”
“Stick to the subject,” I said, but not too severely.
“By that time,” Jeff said, “Tiffin’s deputies must have discovered that Arthur was in his own little trundle bed and sound asleep. Because they popped in on me.”
He finished his coffee and pushed the cup hopefully at me. I filled it up. “Then,” Jeff went on, “I made it back to Delhart’s room via the balcony and down the trellis to the ground. The guy took a shot at me but I didn’t even feel the wind of the bullet. I hid in the trees while they thrashed around. Then I came back to you.”
He paused expectantly and I said, “I’m sorry you had to take such chances, Jeff.”
“You were sorrier back in the woods,” he reminded me. He was being patronizingly masculine.
“I told you once,” I said, “that you had the keys to the car in your pocket.” I smiled sweetly and drank my coffee. “Net results, what was Willow doing in Delhart’s room?”
“Maybe it’s like one of Glory’s questions,” Jeff said. He yawned widely. “I’ll dream up the answer. So roll out the blankets and I’ll park on the couch.”
I should have let him but I had to be mean. If it had been dark instead of daylight outside I would have anyway. But I could ignore my fear that a murderer still ran loose when there was the promise of sunshine outside. I could have saved us both a lot of grief if I hadn’t sent him away.
“I’ll give you the blankets,” I said, “and you’ll find a nice cot in Jud’s shop. You can sleep there with printer’s ink all around you.”
Jeff studied me a moment and then grinned. “Me and Bosco,” he said. “We’ll catch mice together.”
He was so darned sweet about it that I almost changed my mind. But I let him go with the blankets, and I went into the bedroom. Glory was still sleeping, peacefully and quietly, looking quite young again. I wore Jeff’s pajamas so I just pushed her over and crawled wearily in alongside. It wasn’t five minutes until I was completely out.
I came around slowly, opening my eyes to the bright sunlight streaming in the window. I blinked at my alarm clock. It said, 9:45. I yawned. I had had nearly five hours sleep and I felt fine. I sat on the edge of the bed and smoked a cigaret, letting things piece together in my mind. First, I decided, I would try and get more information out of Glory. There was nothing like an intimate, wholly feminine breakfast and make-up bee to bring out confidences. I turned to see how she was doing.
There was no Glory. I listened a minute. But it was a fake hope. There was no sound. She wasn’t up fixing coffee. Inside of two minutes I knew she wasn’t in the house at all. I found her green satin pajamas in a heap on the bathroom floor. More inspection left me boiling mad. Glory had not only gone, she had taken my best slack suit, my second-best underwear, and my new sheer blouse!
I ran into the living room and rang the office. Jud answered. “Is Jeff there?” I demanded.
“Sound asleep,” he said. He clucked his tongue. “What’s as cruel as a virtuous woman? Making him sleep on that damned cot—even Bosco won’t use it.”
“Wake him up,” I said stiffly. “And tell him to come for breakfast. And have you seen Glory Martin?”
“That wasn’t you going by then?”
“What wasn’t me?” I asked ungrammatically.
“Going by in Nellie early this morning. Went right by my place and woke me up.”
“Nellie!” I fairly shrieked. “Tell Jeff to hurry.” I banged down the receiver and ran into the alley. Nellie was gone from the garage. I could cheerfully have used the chopper on Glory at that moment. My clothes and now my car. Nellie and I had shared a lot and I hated to think of her smashed up like Glory’s station wagon. She was a decrepit old wreck, but I loved her. Nellie, I mean.
I went back inside and put water on to boil. Then I went into the bathroom. Glory’s green satin pajamas were irresistible. I tried them on. I looked at myself in the mirror and almost decided we had made an even trade. I kept them on.
When Jeff came I nearly had breakfast ready. I heard him at the door and I called out, “Come in.” I bent down to take the toast from the oven.
A moment later Jeff said, “I thought you took a run-out. Where’s O’Hara?”
I straightened up and turned around, presenting a more dignified view. “A fine eye for a female you have, Jeff Cook,” I said scornfully.
“O’Hara!” He grinned. He looked bright and cheerful. “Did Glory bequeath the satin to you?”
I told him what had happened. He nodded and went through an exaggerated session of studying me from all angles. “I like you better this way,” he said at last. “Now can I have my pajamas back?”
“Sit down and eat,” I said. “I suppose we should call Tiffin now.”
“No,” Jeff said. “She left for a reason, O’Hara. If we give her enough of the proverbial rope we may lasso her with it.”
“But she has Nellie,” I wailed.
“You have me and Bosco,” Jeff said consolingly. He began to eat. He had a fine appetite. I worked on my usual breakfast of toast and coffee and thought how nice it was not to be eating alone. Even if he was cleaning out my entire larder.
Jeff decided to talk between bites. “Wonder if analysis will show bloodstains on those clothes?”
“Is that your usual line of breakfast chatter? Anyway, we won’t have them long enough to find out.”
“You think I’m going to turn them o
ver to Tiffin?” Jeff wagged his head violently. “Not a chance. I’m going to Portland and have them analyzed at once at a lab. Tiffin might forget he had them if we turn them in.”
“I’m willing,” I agreed. “What about the chopper?”
“Now I have an idea,” Jeff said too sweetly. I waited, suspicious of his ideas. “You,” he said, “can dispose of that for me.”
“Go on.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “When you go to the ranch today, just heave the chopper in the pond.”
“Thanks,” I said. “What makes you think I’m going back to the ranch?”
“Someone has to. They’ll be dragging the pond today,” he said. “Besides, you might get some of the answers to Glory’s questions.”
“While you do what?”
“While I go to Portland and get those clothes analyzed. And do a little checking on Willow and Delhart. The Press will probably have printed reams on them from the past few years. Delhart was always news and Willow made sure he got into the papers at every opportunity.”
“All right,” I said. I was a little mollified. “Let me know how I can reach you.”
Jeff gave me the address of the hotel where he lived. “It’s not much of a place,” he said. “But the bed is better than a certain cot I can name.”
That made me feel mean again, so I poured him another cup of coffee. If Jeff had been allowed to sleep on the couch Glory might not have sneaked away. But I didn’t feel mean for long, because right then her disappearance seemed little more than a nuisance.
Jeff helped me with the dishes and then left for Portland. I had to block the doorway to get him to kiss me goodbye. I didn’t ask him, of course. I simply said, “You could at least compliment me on the breakfast. You ate enough of it.”
“That is a compliment in itself, O’Hara. You’re a fine cook. Don’t lose the knack.” He grinned and, picking me up by the elbows, moved me away from the door. In the process he kissed me nicely. “That’s what you really wanted,” he said jauntily. “Don’t get arrested, O’Hara.” And he walked out!
When I had cooled below the simmering stage I managed to plan my day. I had a good outline made by the time I was dressed. Since Jeff was to be in Portland, I put on an old, comfortable suit and a pair of low shoes. I put the green satin pajamas in a drawer. I discovered Jeff had forgotten to recover his nice white ones so I put them alongside. Whatever else I got out of this case I knew I couldn’t lack sleeping apparel for some time to come. After making the bed, I went to the office.
“Fine thing,” Jud greeted me, “making a man sleep between rough blankets in his shorts.” He took a deep sniff of liquor from his smelling bottle. Since I made no comment, he said, “Well, what’s for today?”
“I thought I’d go back to the ranch and cover the dragging of the lake and maybe get a few interviews,” I suggested.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Things are slack, anyway.” He tossed a copy of The Press at me. “I see where the inquest comes off tomorrow.”
A glance at the paper showed me that Jeff had done me another dirty trick. He had them couple my name with his on that story with the potent lead. When Tiffin saw that he would really come down on me. There was also a story about me “rescuing” the corpse, and a full page of pictures showing all the principals. They even had an old WAC photo of me, and I wasn’t flattered a bit.
As Jud had said, the inquest was called for the next day. It was a Saturday. It seemed like fast action but I realized the persons involved were all of sufficient importance to get what is known as a courtesy.
“Can I borrow your car?” I asked Jud.
“Going after Nellie? Glory has a big head start on you, Addy. It was before seven o’clock when she went by.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll have to let Nellie go. I …” The squeal of brakes outside interrupted me. Tiffin and Jocko came stalking in before the horrible sound had died away. Tiffin was yellow with rage and even Jocko looked peeved at me.
I smiled sweetly and waited.
“You’re under arrest,” Tiffin announced nastily.
XVIII
“WELL,” I SAID DEFENSIVELY, “it was a good story and I’d write it again.”
Tiffin looked at the copy of The Press I was holding. “And that’s another thing!”
“Another thing?” I echoed. “What else am I pinched for?”
Jocko shook his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have lied to us, Addy. It ain’t right.”
“When did I lie, Jocko?” For a moment I was genuinely bewildered. Then Tiffin flashed an official looking document at me and I woke up.
“This is a search warrant, Adeline. And we used it.” He waved the warrant at me.
“Without serving it on me, I see,” I said. But my voice was a little weak. It was too late now for me to quibble over a technicality I was not really too certain of anyway.
“We used it all right,” Tiffin howled. I thought for a moment he would foam at the mouth. He looked positively wild.
I tried to be cool. I was beginning to think again. I realized that since Glory was not there—was out in my Nellie, in fact-he could hardly have found her in my place. Unless she had come back as soon as I left. I hastily dismissed the idea. If only to indulge in wishful thinking.
I said, “Lower your voice, Godfrey, or you’ll wake yourself up.” I sat on the edge of my desk and opened my purse for a cigaret. I shut it hastily when I saw the chopper ensconced there. If Tiffin found that I would be finished.
I held tightly to the purse. “Give me a cigaret, Jud,” I said. When I had lighted it, I looked again at Tiffin. “What did you find, Godfrey? My secret shame?”
Jocko sighed and looked miserable. I felt sorry for him. He was an old friend and he thought I had let him down. Maybe I had, and I vowed I would make it up to him if I could. But not as long as he let Godfrey Tiffin stay around to take all the credit and twist evidence to fit his own pet theories.
“Find?” It was Tiffin howling again. “We found blonde hair on a pillow.” He waved an envelope at me. Presumably it contained the blonde hair. “And we found green satin pajamas in a drawer—with G. M. monogrammed on them. Now, Adeline!”
“Now, Addy,” Jocko reproved me sadly.
“And what’s more,” Tiffin said, glaring at me. “We found a pair of men’s pajamas initialed J. C.” There was such a look of outraged virtue on his ugly face that I nearly laughed aloud. But when he said, “Now explain that,” I got mad.
“The J. C. means Jeff Cook,” I said, “And what will you do about it? I’ll explain nothing, you … you …” I couldn’t think of a sufficiently descriptive oath so I stopped and took a deep breath. I was so angry I shook. I jumped off the desk and ran at him. “And you get your dirty mind out of here right now!”
Tiffin looked a little surprised at the whirlwind he had stirred up. It took a little urging from Jocko to turn him toward the door. He went out hastily.
“He can’t help it,” Jocko said apologetically. “And maybe you can’t blame him. He’s got a job to do, Addy.”
“Jeff Cook stayed here last night,” Jud said.
Jocko looked relieved and then tried to hide it. “Now,” he protested, “Tiff didn’t mean anything. It’s got nothing to do with this, anyway.”
“If Tiffin wants to arrest me and flaunt my virtue in court, let him. The Press will have a field day with it.”
“Now,” Jocko said placatingly. “But this Martin matter is different, Addy.”
“I didn’t lie,” I insisted. “I had no idea she was there when you and Tiffin asked me last night. Jeff and I found her in my house. She was dead drunk. Her station wagon was wrecked at the edge of town, by the way.”
“You should have called us,” Jocko said.
“I know,” I admitted, looking penitent. “But she was so tight we couldn’t wake her up. We let her sleep. And when I got up this morning, she was gone. In my slacks.” I said nothing about Nellie. The less they had to go on the bet
ter. “I suppose,” I added, “she’s back to the ranch by now—since she’s sober.”
“I doubt if Tiffin will press any charges against you,” Jocko said. “Unless he claims you told her to come to your place when you were with her yesterday.”
“I didn’t,” I said. “And he can’t prove I did.”
“Did she say anything last night?” Jocko was about as sly as an elephant at a dance.
“She was drunk—out.”
He seemed to believe me. He took a big plug of tobacco from his pocket and bit off a chew. He had it worked down satisfactorily before he spoke. He said, “Inquest at ten, Addy. You’ll be called.”
“I’ll be there,” I said. I was almost weak with relief. To spend time in jail now, with things as they were, what a mess that would be! I wondered how long Jocko would calm Tiffin for me. Jocko was my friend, but he was a law officer first.
“I’m going out to the ranch now,” I said. Jocko nodded. He turned to the door and I remembered something. “Has Tiffin got those pajamas as evidence?”
“Both pairs,” Jocko admitted. “Addy!” he protested as I flew past him.
Tiffin was sitting in the police car. I jerked open the rear door. “You give those pajamas back to me, Godfrey!”
“Leave those alone!” he shouted as I grabbed them from the seat.
I hugged them to me and backed away. He came out of the car after me. “They’re mine,” I said. A few of Teneskium’s citizens were collecting curiously. I raised my voice deliberately. “Trying to steal a poor girl’s clothes. Do you want me to sleep naked? Do you want me to catch pneumonia?”
Tiffin looked at me and then at the people. He was embarrassed. “Yes,” he said. “I wish you would catch pneumonia. Right now.”
Jocko came and rescued Tiffin before I could say any more. He dragged Tiffin into the car and they took off rapidly, Tiffin waving his arms wildly as they went. I looked at the crowd, about twelve people now. “Thanks, folks,” I said. I went back into the shop.
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