Eye Witness

by George Harmon Coxe

  ‘And I thought we were just out for a good time’, she said resignedly. ‘Imagine that.’

  ‘We did have a good time’, Murdock said. ‘At least I did.’

  ‘That’s swell’, Usher added impatiently. ‘Now let’s have the business meeting.’

  Murdock continued to address the girl. He said he was in the case up to his neck and he was interested in clearing himself so he could leave town. He said he had a couple of ideas that he thought Leone ought to hear because they concerned her vitally, that he was accusing no one, but that her husband certainly had to be considered as a possibility.

  ‘Harry hasn’t told us why he moved out of the Greene Hotel and went to the State’, he added. ‘If he did this because he heard that your husband might make trouble, then it’s possible that your husband did go to Room 617. He probably knew that you’d been out with Farnsley a few times and he might have said something about it; if he did, Farnsley being the way he was, it might have started something.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ Leone shook her head. ‘Not any part of it.’

  ‘Neither do I’, said Harry.

  ‘A man answering that description—at least so far as age is concerned—was seen outside Room 617 about the right time’, Murdock said, recalling what Claire Emerson had told him, ‘but if you don’t like the idea suppose we figure out something for Harry.’

  Harry watched the waiter serve the drinks. ‘Go ahead’, he said, ‘let’s see if you’re any better than the cops.’

  ‘The cops?’ Leone gasped. ‘Why, Harry. You mean the police have been questioning you about——’

  ‘All afternoon’, said Harry. ‘Go ahead, Murdock.’

  ‘Lee Farnsley telephoned you at the State Hotel soon after I left him in Room 617’, Murdock said, aware that he was stretching the known facts, ‘and I know that you left the State around ten-thirty or so because I saw you.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘You could have gone to the Greene.’

  ‘I could have but why should I?’

  ‘You do business in jewellery when you get the chance. Farnsley was in debt to Joe Apollo and he stole a brooch from his wife to raise some quick money. He called you because he wanted you to come right over and make him an offer.’

  ‘So you say.’

  ‘You went over there when I saw you leave the State. You were lucky in not being seen—or at least identified—and when you found you couldn’t make a deal with Farnsley he got tough about it and swung at you, and you grabbed the candlestick and let him have it.’

  Murdock paused, not knowing whether he believed any of this or not, but arguing that it could have happened exactly as he said. If Harry Usher was impressed, however, he gave no sign. He lit a cigarette and glanced about the room, one arm over the back of his chair. Only Leone showed any reaction and hers was a silent one which centred in wide-open eyes that saw only Harry, the parted lips, the sudden immobility that had fastened itself upon her.

  ‘I’ll let you in on a secret, Murdock.’ Harry’s glance came back, moved on to the end of his cigarette. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but Harry has an alibi. He’s not saying what it is just now but Harry has one he can produce if he has to. Harry is——’

  He broke off as a waiter stopped beside him and said: ‘Beg pardon, Mr. Usher. There’s a man out here to see you.’

  Usher gave the waiter a harried glance. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘He didn’t give any. He said to tell you it was important.’

  ‘Where is he, at the bar?’

  ‘No, sir. Out at the back.’

  ‘Out at the back? How did you happen to see him?’

  ‘He was waiting in the back hall.’ The waiter indicated the curtained doorway beside the stage through which Murdock had come the previous night after his session with Joe Apollo. ‘He stopped me when I came from upstairs.’

  ‘Oh, well.’ Usher shoved back his chair. ‘Thanks’, he said. ‘Excuse me. I’d better see what he wants.’ He grinned at Leone. ‘Might be a prospective client.’

  Murdock watched the agent pick his way to the side of the room and disappear through the curtain. He heard Leone say something but his thoughts were not on her. Then, acting on an impulse that came from nowhere, he touched the girl’s hand and excused himself, hearing her quiet protest, but paying no attention.

  When he reached the darkened hall there was no one in sight. Sounds of laughter came from behind one of the closed doors that opened here, apparently a dressing-room for some of the entertainers, and he kept on, glancing up the stairs that led to Apollo’s office. The rear door was just ahead and he opened this and stepped out into the blackness beyond, recalling the layout of the squarish space immediately ahead and the alley beyond.

  Light from the open door disclosed the two cars parked there, as they had been the night before, but he could see no one and he said: ‘Harry!’ and started along the opening between the two cars. Then, even as he spoke he tripped. He had to take a quick leap forward to get his balance and to keep from trampling this thing which had caught his toe, and now, somewhere ahead, there was the sound of movement, unseen but close.

  He stopped instantly, breath held and an icicle sliding swiftly up his spine, not from any sense of personal danger but held by instinct and the drive of imagination. For he knew what had tripped him and the sound he heard now had character and definition.

  Somewhere ahead a man was in full flight along the alley, the rapid beat of his footsteps indicating that pursuit would be useless even if Murdock were so inclined. Interrupted in some job of work as yet unknown, the man had been warned by the opening door in time to take refuge behind one of the cars, and now Murdock bent quickly, hearing a slow grown even as he groped for the figure at his feet.

  ‘Harry!’ he said, his voice urgent.

  He found an arm, a shoulder. He lifted gently.

  ‘Harry!’

  There was a mumbled answer as Harry Usher sat up. He groaned again.

  ‘Someone slugged me’, he said finally.

  Murdock told him to sit there a moment. ‘Take it easy’, he said. ‘Don’t get up if you don’t feel like it.’

  Harry said he was all right. He clung to Murdock as he struggled to his feet and then stood weaving a moment before he steadied himself and let go of Murdock’s arms.

  ‘Do you know who it was?’

  ‘No’, Harry said. ‘I came out of the door and didn’t see anyone so I stepped between the cars and then somebody lowered the boom.’

  ‘Come on’, Murdock said, ‘In the men’s room. Let’s have a look at your head.’

  Among the toilet waters, hair oils, and talcums which the washroom attendant stocked to meet the demands of his customers they found a small bottle of iodine, and Murdock parted Usher’s thick hair until he found the wound. It had begun to swell but the break in the scalp was not large and there was little blood.

  ‘That thick hair may have helped’, Murdock said, accepting a hot towel from the attendant. He dabbed gently until the gash was clean and then reached for the iodine. ‘Hang on while I give it a swab of this stuff.’

  Harry made no sound. He said, ‘Thanks’, and stood up to survey himself in the mirror. He looked white and shaken. He looked a little scared, too, but his jaw was tight. He straightened his tie, washed his hands, brushed the hair over his temples. When he finished he said: ‘How do I look?’

  ‘You look okay. How do you feel?’

  ‘A little rocky but a drink’ll fix that.’

  ‘Maybe you ought to see a doctor.’

  ‘Not unless it keeps bleeding.’ He lowered his head. ‘Take a look.’

  Murdock said the wound looked all right. ‘You’re sure you don’t know who it was?… Let’s find the waiter that gave you the message.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Maybe he can describe the guy that gave it to him.’

  Harry considered the thought a moment; then he shrugged. ‘Oh, the hell with it.’

  M
urdock eyed him thoughtfully while he wondered about this lack of curiosity. Then, because it was no business of his, he said: ‘Are you going to tell Leone?’

  ‘No,’ Harry said. ‘Let’s get back before she walks out on us.’

  The monologist was performing when they made their way to the table, and though Leone did not speak she watched them with open annoyance as they sat down. Murdock caught the waiter’s eye and pantomimed an order for more drinks. When, presently, the monologist finished his routine, Leone spoke over the accompanying applause.

  ‘It took you long enough.’

  ‘Sorry’, Harry said.

  The waiter put down the drinks and collected the glasses. Leone watched Harry take care of his highball in two long swallows. She said: ‘I think we have some things that should be discussed.’

  Harry glanced about, his eyes sullen. ‘Sure’, he said, ‘but not here with a show going on.’

  ‘Let’s go to my room’, Murdock said.

  Leone eyed him directly. She looked very pretty in the dimness of the room but her red mouth had a sardonic twist.

  ‘We should have gone there in the first place.’

  ‘You can take your shoes off’, Murdock said.

  ‘I have to be in the right mood.’

  ‘Let’s get out of here’, Harry said impatiently.

  Murdock had parked Leone’s convertible across the street from the club entrance and because he still had the keys he automatically got in behind the wheel while Harry held the other door for Leone. When he was ready to get under way Murdock looked back to make sure there was no car approaching and then angled out from the kerb. Because he was a careful driver he kept his eye on the rear-view mirror as he shifted and that was how he noticed the headlights of another car slanting out from the kerb about a block behind him.

  He watched them as he picked up speed, at first idly and then, as his mind went back over the things that had happened, with more interest. He accelerated to forty, held it for a block and the headlights kept their distance. He slowed down and turned right at the next corner, one eye on the mirror.

  ‘This isn’t the way to the Greene’, Harry said.

  ‘Take the next left’, Leone said, ‘and the left after that.’

  Murdock obeyed, varying his speed to see if the lights behind him would keep pace. When he was sure he spoke.

  ‘I got news for you, kids. I think we’re being followed.’

  Leone stirred on the seat beside him. ‘Oh-oh! she said.

  Harry muttered an oath and twisted in his seat to look back.

  ‘Watch those lights while I drive awhile’, Murdock said.

  Harry was silent for two minutes. ‘Yeah’, he said finally.

  ‘Suppose it’s Jesse’, Leone said.

  ‘So what?’ Harry blustered. ‘There’s three of us.’

  Murdock was looking for something and he found it presently in a corner drugstore up ahead. He slowed down and came to a stop at the kerb, noting as he did so that the other car pulled in and stopped a half-block or more behind. He marked the position in his mind and cut the engine.

  ‘Stay here’, he said. ‘Maybe we can find out what this is all about.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Leone asked quickly.

  ‘Never mind’, Murdock said. ‘Just stay here and wait.’

  He went quickly around the front of the car, heading for the drugstore and not looking back. He entered, walked past the soda fountain and found what he expected to find—a second entrance on the other street. He headed for this without slowing down, went out, and loped towards the corner on his right, turning here and then coming back along this street which was parallel to the one where he had parked the convertible.

  He jogged steadily on, not fast enough to arouse much suspicion in the few pedestrians he passed and grateful that he met no policeman who might have been more curious. Turning right at the corner, he turned right again at the next one and then slowed down, picking out the car that interested him and finding it a heavy sedan, the driver its only occupant.

  At this hour the street was quite deserted, but a young couple hurried past arm-in-arm as he stopped at the kerb, and he waited until they were at a safe distance before he approached the sedan. When a final glance told him there was no one else in the block, he opened the door from the sidewalk side and slid quickly along the seat, seeing the man behind the wheel turn in surprise and then, almost simultaneously, reach for his coat pocket.

  Murdock pinioned the hand in the pocket. ‘Take it easy’, he said. ‘I want to talk to you.’

  There was enough light reflected from the dashboard to tell him this was the man he had seen inquire for Harry Usher at the State Hotel. He had no further doubt as to who he was and when he felt the other start to fight back, he put his weight against him, crowding him in the far corner and giving him no chance to use his left hand.

  Jesse Thorpe showed surprising strength considering his awkward position, but Murdock was stronger, and after a moment or two of struggling Thorpe said: ‘What’s the meaning of this?’

  ‘Let go of the gun and I’ll tell you!’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Let go of the gun!’

  Thorpe said: ‘Damn you!’ and tried to twist free and now Murdock had his right hand in the pocket, clamping hard on Thorpe’s hand and twisting the wrist cruelly.

  ‘The name is Murdock’, he said. ‘I want to know why you’ve been following us and why you slugged Harry Usher.’

  Thorpe said nothing, but he apparently decided to forget his gun temporarily.

  ‘Let go of my wrist and you can have the damned gun’, he fumed.

  Murdock eased up on the pressure just enough to enable Thorpe to withdraw his hand. When he had the gun he looked it over, finding it to be a .32 automatic.

  ‘I’ve got a permit to carry that’, Thorpe said.

  ‘Okay.’ Murdock slid the clip out and thumbed the shells into the hand that held the gun. He ejected the shell in the chamber and put the clip back.

  ‘Is this what you slugged Usher with? Never mind’, he said when Thorpe remained silent. ‘Let’s take a walk.’ He opened the door. ‘Come on’ he said. ‘You’re not afraid to talk to your wife, are you? I think she ought to know how she stands.’

  It was, apparently, the right sort of approach to use on Thorpe for he opened the door at once and came around the car to join Murdock. He fell in step as they started down the street, two or three inches shorter than the photographer, but holding himself erect, with head up and jaw set.

  When they came to the coupé Murdock opened the door. ‘It’s all right, I guess’, he said to Harry and Leone. ‘It was just your husband.’

  He paused. No one said a word and the light was too sketchy to tell what anyone was thinking. ‘I guess he was a little curious about you’, he said to the woman. ‘I thought you ought to know about it, you ought to know about this, too.’ He held up the automatic. ‘He says he’s got a permit for it.’

  He saw the man and woman stare at the gun. When neither spoke he said: ‘Anything you want to say to him, Leone?’

  ‘No’, she said, as though it took a great effort to speak at all.

  ‘Do you want to sign a complaint, Harry?’

  Harry found his voice and it was harsh, too harsh it seemed as though its accent was only an outward manifestation of a very real inner uncertainty.

  ‘I told you I didn’t know who did it.’

  Leone stared at him and Usher could not meet her gaze. Thorpe cleared his throat and spoke with dignity and bitterness.

  ‘In that case’, he said, ‘I’ll get back to my car.’

  He held out his hand. Murdock put the gun in it. Thorpe said: ‘Thank you’, and turned on his heel.

  ‘If I were you’, Murdock called after him, ‘I’d let someone that knows how, do the following hereafter. Someone like Simon Rigby.’

  He did not know if Thorpe heard him or not, but when the man kept walking he turned back
to the convertible. Leone was staring out of the windshield and Usher was watching her, his face tight and shiny in the half-light.

  ‘Well?’ Murdock waited. ‘Still want to go to the hotel?’

  ‘No.’ Leone slid over behind the wheel. ‘I’m going home.’

  ‘I’ll drive you’, Murdock said, ‘I can get a cab back.’

  ‘No,’ Leone stepped on the starter. ‘I’ll be quite all right, thank you. I’ll drop you at the hotel.’

  Murdock said it was only two blocks away. He said he could just as well walk. ‘Come on, Harry’, he said.

  Harry Usher got out, still not saying a word. He closed the door and Leone let in the clutch. They watched the car in silence and then started down the street, continuing without speaking until they came to the State Hotel. Here Murdock asked if Harry wanted a drink and this time he got an answer.

  ‘No’, said Harry, and with that he turned and pushed quickly through the revolving doors to the lobby, his shoulders hunched, and showing no sign at all of the bounce for which he was noted.

  Chapter Seventeen

  WHEN Kent Murdock finished breakfast the next morning he came back to his room to glance at the local newspaper and see what the news was on the Farnsley murder. When he read the sketchy follow-up story, well-buried in the middle part of the paper and adding very little that was new, he sat for a while, a strange restlessness growing in him that had as its foundation a feeling of dissatisfaction and frustration. He stood up to pace the floor, stopping at the window to glance down at the city. The morning was clear and bright and he found himself wondering how it was in Boston.

  For the first time since he had come here he began to think about going back, and the more he considered the idea the more desirable it seemed. He had, he told himself, enough of Uniontown. He was fed up with police investigations, flirtatious wives, jealous husbands, and sharp-shooters like Harry Usher who didn’t know when they were well off. He thought about his status with Jason, the state’s attorney, and wondered if things could be fixed so he could leave town. He wanted to talk to Walter Dorrance first, but the lawyer would not be back from Boston until noon, or possibly later, and now, rather than sit around idly, Murdock went to the telephone and called Helen Farnsley’s apartment.