by Parnell Hall
“From what happened. See, with all those people milling around it got a little hairy for my men. Of course, they don’t want to be spotted. With so many people there, there was a good chance someone would get wise. Particularly after Carl Jenson showed up. He’s a wary son of a bitch. Suspicious nature, eyes open all the time, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So anyway, the relatives are off in a corner of the lobby conferring in low tones and my men can only catch a word or two here or there. So when I say Jack Walsh sent for them, I’m inferring that from what happened.”
“Which is?” Steve said somewhat impatiently.
“Yeah, yeah,” Taylor said. “Sorry. Which is, they all went up to see Jack Walsh one at a time.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Like clockwork, starting at eight o’clock. It’s easier if I just give it to you. Here you go. Two minutes of eight, Jason Tindel goes up in the elevator; 8:14 he’s back down. They all converge on him, they’re all talking at once, you can’t make out a thing. Best you can tell, they’re not happy. Jason Tindel, at least, does not look happy.
“8:27-Fred Grayson up in the elevator. 8:38-Grayson down. Same thing.
“8:57-Rose Tindel up in the elevator. 9:10-Rose Tindel down.
“9:26-Pat Grayson up in the elevator. 9:37-Pat Grayson down.
“9:58-Claire Chesterton up in the elevator. 10:10-Claire Chesterton down.
“And last but not least: 10:26-Carl Jenson up in the elevator. 10:36-Carl Jenson down.”
Taylor flipped the notebook shut. “And that’s that. When Jenson came down they all conferred one last time, apparently over shifts. Because immediately after that everybody left but Jason Tindel. He staked out the lobby and was on till three in the morning, relieved by Fred Grayson. Fred stayed on till eight, when Carl Jenson took over. Jenson’s there now.” Taylor shrugged. “Not that it’s doing any good. So far, Walsh hasn’t shown.”
“By rights he should be dead,” Tracy said.
Steve and Mark looked at her.
“What?” Steve said.
Tracy grinned. “I just mean it would be perfect. From a murder-mystery point of view. I mean look. Here’s a millionaire. He’s being visited by all his heirs one at a time. You got a detective taking notes of the exact times each one of them went in. Plus you got the Lutece van, so you know exactly when he had his dinner and what he ate. So the medical examiner would be able to determine the time of death by the stomach contents. It would be a nice, tidy little case.”
Taylor shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”
“Hey, don’t knock it,” Steve said. “You said Walsh hasn’t shown yet. So take it a step further. What if he doesn’t show and sooner or later a chambermaid goes in and finds him dead?”
Now Taylor stared at Steve. “Are you serious?”
Steve grinned. “No, but what the hell. It’s an interesting idea, we might as well play with it. What would happen then?”
“I know what would happen then,” Taylor said. “I would be sitting on top of a huge pile of evidence in a first-degree murder case, and you would be handing me oh-so plausible reasons why I should be withholding it from the police, and I would be having a nervous breakdown.”
“Relax,” Steve said. “You worry too much. We’re only playing what-if here. Wait till the corpse turns up.”
“Yeah,” Taylor said. “That’s the what-if I’m talking about. What if a corpse turns up?”
“In that case,” Steve said. “I would instruct you to take all of your operatives’ notes and make a full and complete disclosure to the police.”
Taylor stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” Steve said. “At least within the confines of the hypothetical situation Tracy’s set up.
“O.K., Tracy. It’s your party. What if Jack Walsh turns up dead?”
Tracy frowned. “Now that I think about it, it’s not so perfect after all.”
“Oh no? Why?”
“Because the relatives all came together.”
“What difference does that make?”
“Well,” Tracy said. “In a book they’d all come separately. And they’d go in and out without meeting each other. In fact, none of them would even know the others had appointments. Of course, that couldn’t happen in this case with them all living in the same house. Jack Walsh calls one, he gets ‘em all. So they all know they all have appointments, they all come together, and they discuss everything before each one goes up and after they come down.”
“Why does that make a difference?” Steve said.
“Because if they all came separately and there was no communication among ‘em, no one would know who did it. Or rather, who didn’t do it.”
Taylor frowned. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not following this?”
“I think I am,” Steve said. “But why don’t you spell it out.”
“O.K.,” Tracy said. “They’re all together. They’re all going up and coming down one at a time. There’s six of ‘em, right? O.K. Say the fourth person goes up and finds him dead. Well, then he knows the killer’s one of the first three who already went up. And he knows the killer isn’t one of the last two who haven’t gone up yet.”
“And he know it isn’t himself,” Taylor said.
“I’m serious, Mark,” Tracy said. She turned to Steve. “You see what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do,” Steve said. “But there’s another consideration. That fourth person-you got your notes there, Mark? Who was the fourth person? In fact, give me the order again.”
“O.K.,” Taylor said. “Jason Tindel, Fred Grayson, Rose Tindel, Pat Grayson-she’s number four. Then there’s Claire Chesterton, and Carl Jenson.”
“O.K.,” Steve said. “Take your example. Pat Grayson goes up and finds him dead. She knows Jason Tindel, Fred Grayson, or Rose Tindel did it. She also knows Claire Chesterton and Carl Jenson didn’t.”
“Seems a shame to wash out Jenson,” Taylor said.
“If that were the case,” Steve said. “She obviously didn’t tell anyone.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Claire Chesterton and Carl Jenson still went up.”
“Wait a minute,” Taylor said. “Why wouldn’t she tell?”
“Because she’s afraid they might think that she did it,” Tracy said excitedly.
“Oh, come on,” Taylor said.
“No, good enough,” Steve said. “That’s a motive for her, and that’s a motive for all the others. Take that as a premise. Whoever finds him dead won’t admit it. He’ll lie to the others and claim they met with him and he was just fine.”
“So what does that accomplish?” Taylor said. “She comes down, she doesn’t tell the others he’s dead. Big deal. The next person up is gonna know.”
“Right,” Steve said. “But only that one person. And that’s what makes the whole thing so interesting. It’s like one of those old logic problems. In fact it’s a paradox.”
“What?” Taylor said.
“I’m not following this,” Tracy said. “What’s the paradox?”
“It’s a nobody-could-have-killed-him paradox.”
“A what?”
“Look. Here’s the setup. Jack Walsh is found dead. One of the six must have killed him. Now we must assume all six will operate by the same rules. That is, if a person finds him dead, they won’t admit it, they’ll pretend he’s still alive. And we also must assume that the murderer doesn’t want to be known. In other words, the murderer won’t kill him if any other person would know for sure that he did it.
“O.K., that’s the setup. If Jack Walsh is found dead, which one of them could have done it?”
Mark Taylor stared at him. “How the hell should I know?”
“All right, Mark. Let’s make it easier. Which one of them couldn’t have done it? Logically, I mean.”
“Steve,” Taylor said. “I took Math 101 for football players. I got a gentleman’s C. This is out of my line.
”
“All right. Tracy-you know who couldn’t have done it?”
“Sure.”
“Who?”
“Jason Tindel, of course.”
“Right. Why?”
“Because he came first. Jason Tindel called on him first. If he killed him, when Fred Grayson went up and found him dead, Fred would know Jason was the murderer.”
“Right,” Steve said. “And one of our rules is the murderer won’t do it if anyone would know it was him. You follow that, Mark?”
“Right. If Jason did it, Fred would know. So it wasn’t Jason. I’m with you there.”
“Fine,” Steve said. “Now consider Fred Grayson. Could he be the murderer?”
“Sure,” Taylor said.
“Oh yeah,” Steve said. “And how is that?”
“’Cause who would know? When the third person-Rose Tindel-came up and found Jack Walsh dead, she wouldn’t know whether Fred or Jason did it. Right?”
“Wrong,” Steve said.
Mark Taylor and Tracy Garvin both looked at him.
“What?” Tracy said.
“Wrong,” Steve said. “Rose Tindel would know.”
“How the hell would she know that?” Taylor said.
“Because we have to assume that Rose Tindel is intelligent and can reason just as well as we can.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
Steve shrugged. “Well, we just got through figuring out Jason Tindel couldn’t have done it. ’Cause if he had, Fred Grayson would know it. Well, Rose Tindel can figure that way too. She can say, ‘It can’t be Jason, or Fred would know it, and Jason wouldn’t be that stupid as to let Fred know he’d committed the crime. So it can’t be him. And if it isn’t him, it has to be Fred.’ You follow me?”
Taylor frowned. “I think so.”
“So it can’t be Fred. ’Cause he can reason that way too, and he won’t commit the crime if Rose Tindel would know it was him. You follow me?”
“Absolutely,” Tracy said. “And the same thing with Pat Grayson, right?”
“Exactly,” Steve said. “Pat Grayson knows it couldn’t be Jason or Fred would know. She knows it couldn’t be Fred, or Rose Tindel would know. So if she walks in and finds him dead, she’ll know it’s Rose Tindel. So it can’t be Rose Tindel. ’Cause she wouldn’t be that dumb.”
“You’ve absolutely lost me,” Taylor said.
“Oh, come on, Mark, it’s simple,” Tracy said. “Claire Chesterton figures the same way, right?”
“Exactly. So Pat Grayson couldn’t have done it. Likewise, Carl Jenson figures out Claire Chesterton couldn’t have done it.” Steve grinned. “Of course, there we have a problem. Frankly, I can’t see Carl Jenson figuring anything out. But grant him the hypothetical power, the answer is yes.
“And Carl Jenson couldn’t do it, because he came last. If he did it, Claire Chesterton, who knew Walsh was alive when she left, would know it was him. So he couldn’t have done it.”
Steve spread his hands. “So there we are. Here the man lies dead. And none of the six of them could have killed him, because if they had someone would know it was them. And yet the man is dead and one of them did kill him, and no one has the faintest idea who it was.”
“Jesus Christ,” Taylor said.
“So whaddya think?” Steve said.
“Pretty neat,” Tracy said. “What do you think. Mark?”
Taylor frowned. He shook his head gloomily. “I think the son of a bitch better be alive.”
13
Jack Walsh took one last look around his hotel room. Had he forgotten anything? He couldn’t afford to do that now. Not with the buzzards on his trail. He patted his coat pocket. Yes, he had his wallet and his checkbook. He took them out and looked at them. Realized it was the second time he’d done that. Christ, was he getting senile? He chuckled to himself, shoved the wallet and checkbook back in his coat pocket.
He looked in the suitcase which was lying open on the bed. Was there anything else he’d need? No, of course not. He’d already checked that too. He shut the suitcase, locked it, stuck it back on the closet shelf. Humming softly, he looked around the room again. Anything else? No, just his room key which was lying on the night table. He picked it up and went out the door.
He took the elevator down to the lobby and dropped off his key at the front desk. Through the front window he spotted Carl Jenson hanging out on the sidewalk. He chuckled to himself. Jenson again. Easy pickings. Christ, almost too easy.
Walsh came out the front door and walked along 57th Street to the subway entrance. The whole time he never looked back once. He didn’t need to. He knew Carl Jenson would be there.
Jack Walsh went down in the subway, walked the long corridor to the token booth. Although he had money in his pockets, he ducked under the turnstile out of force of habit. Fuck the transit system.
He walked up the ramp to the Broadway downtown local. The platform was fairly crowded for that late in the morning, which meant a train must be almost due.
Walsh walked to the far uptown end of the platform. There were two bums hanging out in the corner, one lying in a blanket, the other sitting propped up against the wall. Walsh walked over, squatted down, talked to them.
A train pulled into the station. Walsh stood up, turned, faced the train.
But he didn’t get on. He just stood there, calmly, patiently waiting.
The doors closed, the train pulled out.
Jack Walsh sat down. He swung his legs over the edge of the platform. He hopped down onto the tracks.
His foot hit one of the ties and he pitched forward onto his hands and knees.
He wasn’t hurt. He stood up, dusted his hands off.
And walked into the tunnel.
14
Mark Taylor stuck his head in the door. “I got good news and bad news, Steve.”
“Oh?”
“My men called in. The good news is, Jack Walsh is very much alive.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. He came out the front door grungy as ever and large as life about an hour ago.”
“So, what’s the bad news?”
Taylor sighed. “They lost him.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Was he wise?”
“Yes and no.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Taylor shrugged. “Well, I doubt if he spotted my men. But Carl Jenson was following him. I’m sure he was wise to him. Anyway, he ditched Jenson at the same time he ditched my men.”
“How’d he do it?”
“Easy as pie. He went down in a subway station, waited till a train came through, then hopped down on the tracks and walked into the tunnel.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not at all. Very simple, but very effective. If you ever want to ditch someone, I highly recommend it.”
Steve grinned. “I’ll bet. So no one wanted to follow him?”
“They may not have wanted to, but they sure as hell did.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Jenson hesitates a moment, then he hops down and walks into the tunnel too.”
“And your men?”
“Went right in after him.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the underground in New York. My men sure as hell weren’t. But they sure got an education. It’s all connected down there. The subway system connects with the sewer system, which connects with abandoned unfinished tunnels, which connects with subbasements — it’s a whole goddamned labyrinth. I don’t want to bore you with details, but suffice it to say my men got hopelessly lost. They also got totally freaked out, and they both swear they’ll never do that again, even if it cost them their jobs.
“At any rate, they lost Walsh and they lost Jenson. And it’s a cinch Walsh lost Jenson too, if that’s what he was after. ’Cause apparently he knows his way around down there. After all he’s been living there for months.”
“Great,” Steve said. “So what are you doing now?”
“Well, I got one man staking out the hotel in case he comes back, and the other staking out the subway system in case he comes back the way he came in.” Taylor shrugged. “Figure that’s the best I can do.”
Steve grimaced, “Yeah, but it’s probably a lost hope. If he went to the trouble to ditch Jenson, he’s not gonna show up in any of the obvious places.” Steve thought a moment, then shook his head. “No, call your men in, Mark. I just wanted to see what Walsh was gonna do. Well, he’s done it. He’s called all the family members in for conferences, and now he’s gone back to the subway and ditched ‘em. That sounds to me like he’s checking out.”
Taylor nodded. “It does to me too.”
“Well, that’s that,” Steve said. “Anything else?”
“As a matter of fact, yeah.”
“Oh?”
“Julie Creston.”
“What about her?”
“I found her.”
“Oh yeah? Where?”
Mark Taylor frowned and shook his head. “I’m embarrassed to tell you. And here I got men out scouring the country, looking for her under one alias or another. And look where she turns up.”
“Where?”
Taylor reached into his hip pocket, pulled out a rolled up copy of TV Guide, and flopped it on the desk. “There. In next Sunday’s Murder, She Wrote. Listed in the additional cast, playing a small but featured role under the same stage name you gave me. It seems when she left New York she moved out to L.A. and kept on working. That didn’t bother Walsh’s relatives none, ’cause they didn’t give a damn what she did as long as she wasn’t around him. So they weren’t gonna bother her. She moved out there, got a small flat in L.A. and she’s been working ever since. Nothing much, you understand, just enough to pay the rent. And even then, only with some waitressing on the side.”
“Well now that’s interesting,” Steve said. “Anyone talk to her?”
Taylor shook his head. “That’s what I wanna ask you. She’s not there. She’s on location. She landed a week’s work on a picture shooting in the mountains around Denver. So you want me to have someone track her down on the set or wait till she comes home?”