Eye Witness

by George Harmon Coxe

  She looked at him, her blue eyes no longer quite so clear but just as interesting, her voice a trifle thicker.

  ‘Well, I won it. I got a week on his programme and two weeks in a hotel spot, and that’s where Harry Usher came in. He knows a lot of people, and he gave me a big build-up about what he could do for me if I’d let him represent me. I had lunch with him twice I think and it was all very interesting, but you see the Bermuda trip was pretty well set so I said I might talk to him when I came back.’

  ‘Instead of that you met Jesse Thorpe’, Murdock prompted when she seemed to hesitate.

  ‘Dear Jesse’, she said and her laughter bubbled at some secret amusement. ‘Yes. At a hotel with some of his rich friends off the boat. He told me he was forty-eight—actually he was fifty-two—and he was a good dancer and we had a lot of fun, all of us. He had most of his hair, though it was grey, and not too much of a middle-aged spread, and all tanned up and everything. He was very nice. He said his wife had died and he had a grown son, but he was in love with me and when I saw that what he had in mind was marriage I listened to him.’

  She arched her back and made a grab at her purse before it slid off her lap. She got everything arranged and looked back at Murdock, her eyes at ease.

  ‘Well, he talked me into it. Not that it was too difficult at the time. I’d known a lot of men. I like men. I thought I knew something about them and I expected to get married some day though I hadn’t exactly made up my mind what I was waiting for. I made good money, but even with dress discounts I used to get I managed to wind up broke most of the time because I liked expensive things. I mean I was just drifting along, but having fun too, and with nothing particular in mind until I saw Jesse was serious.’

  She sighed and said: ‘What he had to offer seemed to add up very nicely down there in Bermuda. Uniontown sounded fine, especially when you figured that it meant mingling with the social set and having a nice house and servants and breakfast in bed every morning and charge accounts in the New York shops. It wasn’t all mercenary either. I liked Jesse a lot. I found him attractive and he was very sweet and thoughtful, and there was one other thing which is important to a woman—I knew he loved me.’ She sighed again and said: ‘So I said yes and we were married the following month.’

  Kent Murdock had discovered long ago that women would talk to him though he was never quite sure why this was so, unless, as he sometimes thought, it was easier to talk about personal problems to a stranger than it was to a relative. This much he knew, but there was more to it than that. All women had troubles, real or fancied, and nearly all women wanted to talk about them at one time or another, sometimes to another woman and sometimes to a man if they were sure they had a sympathetic listener. Once this listener’s sincerity was established they seldom needed any great urging to unburden themselves, and Murdock was fortunate in having the quality, which women, even comparative strangers, seemed to recognize, of being not only a sympathetic listener but an understanding one as well. Further, and this was perhaps the most important part of all, there was no ulterior motive in his listening; he seldom had plans in mind. He listened because he was genuinely interested, assuming always that the person was not a nitwit or a bore.

  Now he said: ‘It sounds all right, but what happened? I mean in addition to Jesse turning out to be the jealous husband.’

  ‘Jesse’, said Leone with some spirit, ‘is tighter than the radio character of Jack Benny.’

  Murdock laughed. He reached across and took her left hand, turning it to disclose an emerald-cut diamond that he guessed would be not less than four carats. He put the hand back where he got it and took the other one while he examined the emerald-and-diamond cocktail ring. When she made no attempt to release the hand he held it and ran his thumb up her wrist, pushing back the edge of the sleeve to dislose a diamond-studded watch.

  ‘Did you say tight?’

  ‘Oh, those’, Leone shrugged. ‘Presents. They belonged to his first wife. I’m allowed to wear them. I’m allowed to charge things within reason—his idea of reason, that is. I’m not sure which is worse, his being tight or jealous. It took a while for me to find out about the tight part but the other——’

  She finished her cocktail and put the glass down. ‘It didn’t take long’, she said. ‘I heard about it after the first few club dances, and I laughed at him because I’d been most circumspect and the men I danced with—or went out on the porch with for a cigarette—were his friends. Later I knew he was trying to watch every move I made and of course that made me want to make some he couldn’t watch. It got to be a sort of a game and I suppose to him it all looked much worse than it was. It was ridiculous, and it finally got so bad his son left home.’

  She glanced up and said, ‘Are you beginning to get the picture? The boy was only a year or two out or college, a sweet kid and very much on the level. I was nice to him, naturally, but most discreet, I can assure you. The boy—his name was Ted—played the piano a little in one key and I’d sing with him sometimes and …’ She broke off, picked up her glass, found it empty, and replaced it. ‘There’s no point in boring you’, she said when Murdock ordered more drinks. ‘Ted simply up and left because he couldn’t stand his father’s attitude or insinuations. He has a job in New York now and comes up a couple of times a year.’

  ‘And are you serious about Harry Usher?’

  She pursed her lips while she considered the question. She nodded slowly, looked right at him, smiled. ‘I think I am, though why I should be telling you I can’t imagine. Maybe it’s because I like you.… You know something? I’m glad you called me up.’

  Murdock said he was glad too, but he was thinking now and he said: ‘Can Harry do any better for you? Or do you think Jesse will come across with alimony or a settlement?’

  ‘Jesse’, she said, ‘will do neither. I think he might agree to a divorce if I didn’t ask for alimony. If I do he’ll fight, and actually I haven’t any very good grounds except the old one of incompatibility. At least with Harry I’ll have some fun. Harry’s that kind. He has ideas and he knows people and he’s convinced that I’m a cinch to develop as a singer under his handling.’

  ‘What about money?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Has Harry got any?’

  ‘Only what he makes.’

  ‘No more society, then. Maybe no breakfast in bed.’

  She watched Charles serve her fourth sidecar and if she slurred her accents a bit she had no trouble making herself understood.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know’, she said, not touching the drink, ‘with what he makes and what I make I think we might have breakfast in bed most of the time.’ She waved one hand. ‘Oh, I’m not kidding myself—I hope. I’m twenty-six’, she said, ‘and it seems to me marriage ought to offer a little more understanding than what I’ve had. I want to find out. If it doesn’t work with Harry I think I’ll still be young enough to try again. With what I should know then, and unless I’m a complete dope, I should be able to make it for keeps the next time.’

  She went on to amplify the thought and Murdock listened with his ears while his mind explored other things. Now, reaching way back, he said:

  ‘What would happen if you sold some of that jewellery?’

  The question seemed to startle her. Her lids came down and her glance pried at his own. After a moment she reached for her glass, took a sip and put it back, still watching him.

  ‘Now, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘If Jesse found it out—and he would—he’d probably lock the rest of the stuff in a vault. Why?’

  ‘I was wondering’, Murdock said, ‘I thought it might be a good way for you to get a stake before you got your divorce.’ He turned his glass idly, deciding he might as well pursue the idea one more step. ‘I know that Harry had an expensive-looking diamond bracelet the other day; I know he deals in jewellery now and then and I wondered if that bracelet was yours. I thought it might be for sale.’

 
She turned on the stool, grabbing at her purse. When her knees touched his she stopped. She took his hand in hers.

  ‘Let me ask you something’, she said thickly. ‘I’m a little tight. I’ve done a lot of talking and I guess it’s time to stop. But let me ask you this. What would happen if I let Harry have that bracelet for a couple of days while he had someone make an imitation piece—you know, one of those paste copies—for a couple of hundred dollars. Suppose when I left Jesse maybe half the stuff was imitation?’

  So that’s how it is? Murdock thought. Aloud he said: ‘Jesse’d find it out if he ever had the jewellery appraised.’

  ‘But what could he do about it?’

  ‘Maybe not much. But if the things were insured you’d be up against the insurance company and that might be tough.’

  ‘Insurance? Hah!’ She winked slowly. ‘Jesse had insurance while his first wife was alive but when he put the stuff in the vault he cancelled it to save the premiums. He never renewed it. Nobody has appraised anything since I’ve been Mrs. Thorpe. If he ever accuses me why can’t I say the pieces were probably imitation when he gave them to me?’

  ‘I guess he’d have a hard time proving anything at that’, Murdock said.

  ‘That’s what Harry said.’ She let go of his hand and straightened her shoulders once more. She pushed her not-quite empty glass aside and shook her head. ‘If I finished that I’d probably fall off the stool.’

  ‘I know how to fix that condition.’

  ‘You do?’ She tipped her head as she gathered her coat about her. She inspected him through lowered lids. ‘You know how to fix a lot of things, don’t you? I’m beginning to believe you can at that.… Well?’

  ‘Food is what we need’, Murdock said. ‘Especially a steak. Hungry?’

  ‘Starved.’

  ‘We can eat right here. I’ll get a booth at the back and we’ll see what the Studio Grill has to offer.’ He stood up and helped her with her things. He left a half-dollar for Charles and took his check with him when they started for the rear of the room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  WHEN they were seated it was Al—to whom the many photographs were dedicated—who came to make his recommendations for dinner. The planked steak for two he would positively guarantee and with this suggestion Murdock had no argument. When it came the waiter carved and served it and there was a baked potato and green salad to go with it.

  After that there was very little conversation and no complaint with Al’s food, cooking, or service. A waiter stood near-by to keep the water glasses full and to add butter to the potatoes from time to time. Finally he asked about dessert, but when he could stimulate no interest he brought the coffee, and Murdock asked Leone if she would have a brandy. She thought a B & B would be fine so he had the brandy. Only then, when the waiter took the other things away, was Murdock able to sit back and give his attention completely to his companion.

  ‘That was all right’, he said.

  ‘Marvellous.’

  She was watching him now, the faint flush in her cheeks giving her a new radiance that was attractive and promising. The cocktails had apparently done their work well for she seemed relaxed and at ease, content, it seemed to leave the next move up to him. He gave her a slow grin, holding her gaze as he offered cigarettes.

  ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘Wonderful.’

  ‘You don’t have to go anywhere?’

  ‘You mean, after you’ve wined and dined me?’ She smiled archly and shook her head. ‘Not for a while anyway. And besides I think it’s time you did a little talking. About yourself.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Well—no. What I’d really like to do is go somewhere so I could take my shoes off and put my feet up. Then you could talk and I could curl up in a chair and listen.’

  Murdock signalled for the check. He said it might be a good idea. ‘We could go to my room’, he said, aware as he spoke that under other circumstances this might be something he would thoroughly enjoy, ‘but let’s stop at the Club Ebony first and catch the show.’

  He glanced at his watch and she reached out to take his wrist, turning it so she could see the time. ‘Twenty minutes to ten?’ she said. ‘I had no idea it was so late.… Are we ready?’

  Murdock said they were and the waiter was right there to help her with her coat. Al came out from somewhere in the back to say good night to them, and Charles grinned knowingly from his station behind the bar.

  Leone said she had her car but that it was about a block and a half away. ‘Because you never can tell about Jesse’, she said.

  Murdock had been wondering about the very same thing; he continued to wonder about this and Harry Usher as they walked along the street, turned the corner, and went on for another block to where a new-looking convertible was parked. He unlocked it with the keys she gave him, held the door for her, slid in behind the wheel.

  The centre of attraction of the Club Ebony’s outer room was Claire Emerson. In the spotlight that played about her, her hair shone like spun gold, her skin was white and smooth, and her shadowed, mascara’d eyes mirrored the merry sparkle of youth. The elevated piano in the centre of the horseshoe bar revolved slowly and Claire played a full-chorded, relaxed version of Please for the customers. These gave her their attention to a man, though it could not be said whether their interest lay in the music or in Claire; for though her gown was green this time, it was cut to reveal like the others, and the part of Claire that met the eye was very pleasant to behold.

  Murdock missed nothing as he handed over his hat and coat. His ear was tuned to the piano because he had not heard her before and he had been curious as to her style and manner of playing. What she did now he found good. He liked the frequency of her left-hand tenths, and the occasional arpeggio was clear cut and simple, a combination seldom found in women pianists. He had another surprise when she finished the chorus and started to sing. She had not mentioned anything about this, and though there was nothing very artistic or finished about her tonal quality she seemed somehow to sing from inside, giving her words a certain intimacy that was pleasant and unaffected.

  He turned to Leone Thorpe and saw that she was watching him. He could see her smile, heard her whisper: ‘She’s all right, isn’t she? One of Harry’s clients.’

  She went on ahead of him towards the glass doors separating the two rooms, and as Murdock followed he glanced about the dim interior. That was how he happened to notice Harry Usher sitting alone at a corner table; he noticed also that Harry had seen him and was now sitting erect to stare at Leone’s retreating back. With that, Murdock grinned to himself. He had been hoping that Usher might be around and now when the head waiter said: ‘Two?’ he told him he’d like a larger table. ‘There’ll be at least one more’, he said.

  ‘One more?’ Leone sounded surprised and somewhat disappointed.

  ‘I saw a friend of yours outside, he said and excused himself.’

  Harry Usher wore a pin-striped suit and a flowered tie. There was no drink on the table in front of him and he was playing absently with a plastic stirrer. When he saw Murdock coming towards him he eyed him stonily and with displeasure, his mouth tight so that for once there were no teeth showing.

  ‘I thought I saw you when we went inside’, Murdock said as though he and Usher were on the best of terms. ‘How about joining us?’

  ‘Thanks.’ Usher’s voice was cold. ‘I’ve had enough trouble for one day.’

  ‘The police finally catch up with you?’

  Usher bristled. ‘What do you mean, catch up with me? I don’t know a damn thing about that Farnsley killing.’

  ‘Neither do I. Unfortunately the police are a little hard to convince.’

  ‘You popped off about that bracelet’, Usher said, sulking openly. ‘O’Brien gave me three hours of chatter about it this afternoon. Go away, will you?’

  ‘Okay?’ Murdock tipped his hand. ‘I’ll tell Leone you’d rather nurse your grudge. I also think I ought to tell her t
hat her husband is liable to let you have a bullet in the back if you don’t watch your step.’

  He started to turn, stopped as Usher called to him and moved to get up. ‘Wait a minute’, the agent said, ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

  Leone Thorpe seemed surprised to see Harry, but the light was very bad in the inner room and it was hard to tell what her eyes were saying. Her voice, however, seemed moderately pleased.

  ‘Harry’, she said. ‘Were you outside, darling? I didn’t know you knew Mr. Murdock.’

  ‘I know him’, Harry said. ‘What I didn’t know was that you knew him.’

  ‘I didn’t.’ She smiled at Murdock. ‘Until this evening. We had dinner. We had a long talk.’

  ‘I’ll bet—’ Harry grunted his displeasure—‘I’ll bet he knows plenty by now.’

  Leone said: ‘Harry!’ reproachfully.

  ‘I knew quite a lot even before that’, Murdock said. ‘For instance I know that Jesse Thorpe has had a private detective named Simon Rigby watching you two for several weeks.’

  He could tell at once that this was news. Leone opened her mouth, though no words came out, and Harry leaned forward peering, most of his teeth showing.

  ‘I told you’, he said to the agent, ‘that Thorpe came looking for you the other night at the State Hotel. What I’ve been wondering is—did he come looking for you in Room 617 at the Greene and walk in on Lee Farnsley by mistake.’

  ‘Pardon me’, Leone said, her tone suddenly stiff. ‘This is going a little fast for me. When you’ve ordered a drink—I mean that’s what we came here for, isn’t it?—perhaps you’ll tell me why we’re discussing Lee Farnsley all of a sudden.’

  Murdock ordered Scotch all around and when the waiter went away he knew it was time to tell Leone of his implication in the Farnsley murder. He did so quickly and without interruption, seeing her face compose itself with each sentence until, when he finished, she was no longer the girl who had been his companion for cocktails and dinner but a pretty stranger who looked upon him with suspicion.