by Craig Rice
The telephone rang. It was Carmena, and it was for Malone. There was real desperation in her voice now. “I called your office, Malone, and found out you were here—Malone—”
“I know all about it,” Malone said. Somehow he managed to say it reassuringly. “And don’t worry.” He said that reassuringly too, and wondered how on earth he’d done it.
“I heard from Jane,” Carmena said. “I never would have believed that Jane—but let’s not go into that now.” There was a catch in her voice. “I suppose she felt like a—poor relation—”
Malone wondered how things would have turned out if Jane Estapoole had known about Leonard Estapoole’s will. He said soothingly, “The thing to do is get Alberta back before—she gets frightened.” No need to put it a harsher way.
“Jane said—she was holding Alberta as a—hostage. She wants—two days, without anything being said to anybody. And a lot of money. And a promise not to say anything. Just that she’s gone on a trip.”
“Sounds fair,” Malone said. “What does she mean by a lot of money?” He tried to keep his voice calm.
“A hundred thousand dollars,” Carmena said.
To the Estapoole estate, Malone reflected, that would be like a tip to a waiter. Too bad Jane hadn’t known what she was passing up.
“Malone, what shall I do? What shall we do?”
Malone thought fast for half a minute. “You have no idea where she was calling from?”
“No. She said it was a pay phone.” He could tell that Carmena was trying to keep her voice steady, too. “She said she’d call back in an hour. For my answer.”
“Stall her,” Malone said. “Tell her you agree, but it’ll take at least another hour to get that much cash together. Tell her to call you again in one more hour. And see what you can find out about meeting places, and all that sort of thing.”
“I will, Malone, I will. And you—” Her voice broke off, but he knew the unsaid words. “What are you going to do?”
“Find Alberta,” Malone said.
He hung up. There was an anxious look on Jake’s and Helene’s faces that worried him just a little. A look that said they’d seen him pull a few rabbits out of hats, but this time—And there was an inference that he shouldn’t have promised Carmena Estapoole the rabbit when he didn’t even know what hat it was in.
Lily Bordreau stood up. “Well,” she said, “let’s start.”
Malone looked at her almost hopelessly. “Start—from where?”
“Jane had to take Alberta somewhere,” she said. “Somewhere out of sight. There’s only one place. She has a little cottage in the dunes. For weekends and things like that. It doesn’t have a telephone, so she’d have to use the pay phone up the road. And she’d probably have used it anyway so the call couldn’t be traced.”
“You’re a good, bright little girl,” Malone said. “Would she have had time to get there before she called Carmena?”
“Just about,” Lily Bordreau said. “It takes about an hour.”
Helene said, “But wouldn’t she assume that Carmena would immediately think of the cottage and send the police there right away?”
“Carmena doesn’t know about the cottage,” Lily said. “Nobody does. I’m not supposed to know about it myself.”
Malone reflected that he was learning more all the time about these really nice girls.
“The police—” Jake began.
Malone thought for a moment. “Not yet. Somehow, we’ll have to handle this ourselves. Because while Jane is just one person, she does have Alberta.” He knew too well how killers, even when they were very nice girls, might behave if they were trapped.
Downstairs, Helene slid behind the wheel of the yellow convertible with a remark that it was pleasant to have an excuse—a reason, rather—for seeing just what this car would do, with and without traffic, instead of just for the fun of it.
Later, Malone was heard to remark that if this was anything like driving for the fun of it, he’d rather have a nightmare any time.
They’d passed the South Shore Country Club before he caught his breath enough to suggest that they ought to discuss strategy.
“If when we get there we find Lily was wrong,” Helene said grimly, “and Jane isn’t there with Alberta—”
“We call Cannena,” Malone said. “And then we call the police.”
There was a silence. They were all thinking of Jane Estapoole, pursued by the police, holding Alberta Com-manday as hostage. For one fleeting moment Malone found himself picturing the little blue-eyed girl with golden curls that was von Flanagan’s instinctive image of a kidnap victim. Then he thought of the mean, skinny little kid with braids and braces on her teeth, and hoped with all his heart that she was safe from all harm.
At last they turned into a winding road that led to a scattered collection of weekend cottages. Helene slowed down.
“If they are there,” she said, “Malone, what do we do?”
Malone didn’t know, but he didn’t say so.
“Throw a rock through a window,” Jake suggested, “and when she comes out to see what’s going on—”
Helene suggested that Jake might just as well have stayed out in Wyoming.
“There’s a back door and a front door,” Lily Bordreau said. “One of us could pound on the front door, and the other one slip in the back.”
“And I assume there are windows,” Helene said.
But the fact remained, and they all knew it, that Jane Estapoole had Alberta, and that Jane Estapoole was not only ruthless but, by now, desperate.
“We’ll think of something,” Malone promised, hoping frantically that he was right.
Then they came round a bend in the road and saw a small figure approaching them. A small, tired-looking and slightly dirty figure, with mouse-colored braids and a very cross look.
Helene slammed on the brakes as they reached her.
“Well,” Alberta Commanday said indignantly. “It took you guys long enough to get here. Maybe I don’t like you after all.”
CHAPTER 26
For a moment there was complete and utter silence. Then everybody began to talk at once. Lily Bordreau said, “Darling, are you all right?” Helene said, “Did she hurt you?” Jake said, “How did you get away?” And Malone simply said, “Where is she?”
She answered Malone. She pointed back down the lane and said, “On the floor.”
Malone had a mad but fleeting notion that someone else might be involved after all, that there had been another crime and that somehow Alberta had escaped in the resulting confusion. She put his mind at rest with her next statement.
“I tripped her,” she said calmly. “I’m good at tripping people. I learned how at Miss Henderson’s School for Young Ladies.”
“I bet you’re good at it,” Helene said admiringly.
Alberta looked pleased and proud. “She locked me in when she went to telephone. I knew this time I’d been honestly kidnaped, and she was mean. Not awful mean, just a little.”
“If she’s hurt you,” Lily Bordreau said, suddenly a small ball of fury, “or scared you—”
“Scare who?” Alberta said. “Scare me?” She sniffed indignantly. “When she came back from telephoning I watched for a chance and then when she was going across the floor I tripped her. Like this.”
She thrust out one quick little leg and caught Jake across the shins.
“Then before she could do anything I hit her on the head, hard. With a big ash tray.”
Another mad and fleeting, and this time, horrible thought raced through Malone’s mind.
“Just like she hit Tony on the head,” Alberta said, very pleased with herself. “Only, he died of it. I guess it was thinking about her hitting Tony on the head gave me the idea of hitting her.”
“Whatever it was,” Malone said, finding his voice at last, “it was a good idea under the circumstances.” He looked at Jake. “And under the circumstances, another good idea might be to go down to this cottage and tak
e the lady in charge. She may come to any minute. I doubt if Bertie here can hit very hard.”
“You just don’t know how hard I can hit,” Alberta boasted. “Want me to show you?”
“Later,” Malone said. “And I’ll probably hit right back. Right now, we’ve got things to do.”
As they got back in the car, she snuggled close to him and said, “I do like you, Malone.”
Malone drew a long breath and said, “Mutual.”
The dunes cottage was small, trim, and tidy, exactly the kind of cottage a thoroughly nice girl would keep for weekend visits. In the center of the grass rug lay Jane Estapoole, face down and motionless. Malone knelt down quickly and felt her pulse.
“It’s all right,” he told Alberta. “You didn’t hit her too hard. Just hard enough.”
Helene said, “Malone, we’ve got to call the police.”
He nodded and then said, “Wait a minute. We’ll call the police when we get her back inside the Chicago city limits. Von Flanagan has enough troubles without having to worry about jurisdiction at a time like this. We’ll load her into the car and when we get back into Chicago, we’ll call von Flanagan and tell him we’re bringing him a present. A very special present.”
Jake carried Jane Estapoole to the car and deposited her in the back seat. He said, “I’ll be right beside her. She just might come to on the way.”
Alberta Commanday said, “That’s okay. I brought the ash tray.” She held it up.
Malone told her firmly, “You’ve done enough good work for one day.” He shoved her in between Helene and himself and considered hugging her tight. Then he decided that while Alberta might be a small-scale heroine, she was no baby. As Helene started the car he said lightly, “I’m glad you weren’t scared.”
“Me?” she said, and her tone of voice indicated that she wouldn’t be scared of a mansion full of murderers.
“It’s a good thing you don’t scare easy,” Malone said. “Because if you did, I might be tempted to try it. Unless, that is, you answer a question or two.”
“I could probably scare you first,” she said with a sniff.
“I’ll go along with you on that,” Malone said. “Now. Pay attention, young lady.”
She giggled.
Malone ignored the giggle and said, “Why did you climb into Helene’s car last night?”
“Because I felt like it,” she said.
“That’s not good enough,” Malone said sternly. “You just wanted to run away from home because you didn’t like it there.”
“That’s not so! I wanted to know what was going on. And I knew if I was home nobody would tell me anything. And I saw the car and I knew who it belonged to so I climbed in and hid and then when we got to Helene’s house the policemen came and I knew I had to keep on hiding, so I did.”
“And,” Malone said, “what made you think anything was going to go on?”
“Well my gosh,” she said, “you don’t know much, do you?”
Malone was ready to admit that, but not to her. “I don’t think you do, either.”
“I don’t give a doggone and a geewhiz what you think,” she said stubbornly.
“Nice little girls don’t swear,” Helene said primly.
Alberta told Helene just what she thought of nice little girls.
“All right,” Malone said, “we’re all friends now, you’ve been a lot of help and you can be a lot more. What was going to go on?”
“Why,” she said, “Tony was going to go look for that brown envelope Uncle Leonard always carried around, and Jane was going to follow him.”
There was a little silence. “I don’t suppose you’d care to enlarge on that, would you?”
She sniffed again. “Sure—pal. I went out to the garage because I didn’t want to go to bed. Tony was talking to somebody on the phone. So I listened. I always listen when I get a chance. He was telling somebody he knew two places that envelope must be and he was going to go find it right away. Only I wasn’t the only person listening. Cousin Jane was listening too. And when Tony got in his car and drove away she got in her car and drove away right after him.”
“Did she by any chance see you?” Malone asked.
Alberta nodded. “Just when she was getting in her car. I guess she couldn’t stop if she was going to go after Tony.” She grinned wickedly. “And after that, she couldn’t find me. Until this afternoon.”
“So,” Malone said slowly, “she knew that you could point her out as Tony’s murderer.”
“That’s what she said,” Alberta told him. “She said that was one reason she took me with her this afternoon. Only I didn’t know that until we were in her car.”
“Or else,” Helene said, “I don’t suppose you’d have gone along with her as meekly as you did.”
“Gee whiz,” Alberta said, “Jane wouldn’t hurt me. She wouldn’t actually hurt anybody, not on purpose. And besides,” she added, “I didn’t know anything about Tony’s being murdered when she came after me. She just said she had something exciting to show me, and I was tired of sitting around drinking Cokes. Except I’d like to have another one right about now.”
“Soon,” Malone promised. “When did she tell you about Tony?”
“There was a newspaper in the car,” Alberta said, “and I’m a big girl, I can read that much. She said she wasn’t going to hurt me, she wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt me. And she told me she didn’t mean to hit him so hard, it was an accident. Only when we got where we were going I guessed I’d better get away from there, so I tripped her.” She paused, yawned, and said, “I hope I didn’t hurt her either.”
“Malone,” Jake said from the back seat, “she’s waking up.” That clear, perfectly modulated and utterly lovely voice said, “I’ve been awake for the past ten minutes. Thank you for the nice things you said, Bertie.”
“Well, gosh darn,” Alberta said, “I just told the truth.” Malone longed, with all his heart, to turn around and look at her. He didn’t dare.
“Mr. Malone,” she said after a moment, “I really didn’t mean to hit him so hard. I was scared.”
The little lawyer stlrred uncomfortably, still refrained from looking back, and said, “You don’t need to talk right now if you don’t want to.”
“But I do. It’s just as Alberta said. I knew Tony—I suppose I’d better call him Mr. Medinica—was going to search Lily’s studio for that envelope. I thought I’d try to get there first. I did, too. I drive very well, Mr. Malone.”
“I suppose,” Malone said, “you were looking for that envelope too.”
It was a slightly grim laugh, but it was a laugh. “Who wasn’t?” She drew a long breath. “I had a key to the studio. I thought I’d locked the door securely, and I had, but somehow he got around and came in through the garden. I was frightened and I fought. I picked up the first thing I could reach and hit him with it. I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t mean to—really even hurt him very much. I wasn’t even sure he was dead. But I was still scared. So I took that statuette and washed all the fingerprints on it. Then I didn’t stop to search any more, I just ran. I guess I got out of there just before you and Lily drove up. I went straight home and took a bath and—kept calm.”
And how magnificently she’d kept calm, Malone reflected.
“Until this afternoon. Then I got panicky. I knew sooner or later somebody would realize. Somebody would find out. So I got Alberta and—”
“And got tripped,” Alberta said.
Malone was silent for a few minutes. The nasty drizzle that had been falling for hours had decided to turn into a warm, gentle spring rain, a misty rain, filled with promises of bright days to come. New grass in the parks, dancing little leaves on the trees and probably, he reflected bitterly, an early heat wave and a few windstorms. It was always that way. He was tired beyond all belief now, and he ached everywhere.
They had crossed the city limits of Chicago, and Malone pointed to a corner drugstore. “I’ll go in and telephone,” he said. “
So von Flanagan can have a red carpet rolled out.” He said it heavily and very wearily.
“I’m bringing you a couple of presents,” he told von Flanagan over the phone. “Last night’s murderess. And the little golden-haired child with beautiful blue eyes.” He wondered how the big police officer would take to Alberta. “Sorry I haven’t time to have them gift-wrapped.” He hung up on von Flanagan’s sputtering questions, thought a moment, and called Carmena.
“Alberta’s safe,” he told her. “She’s with me. You’d better come down and pick her up at police headquarters.” He added, “I’m taking Jane Estapoole there now.” Finally he said inadequately, “Everything’s fine, and don’t worry.”
Back at the car he stood for just a moment in the light and friendly rain, looking at Jane Estapoole. She was very pale and her lovely eyes were shadowed. She still looked like a very nice girl, the nicest girl he’d ever seen. Suddenly he pictured her in front of a jury, dressed just the way she was, and with that same look on her face. In the same instant he remembered the details of her story.
New strength seemed to come into him, and not from the spring rain and the promise of next month’s trees and grass. He smiled at her reassuringly.
“And don’t you worry,” he said. “Alter all, you’ve got the most perfect case of self-defense I ever saw—!”
CHAPTER 27
Von Flanagan had the look of a happy man. He beamed at everybody and said, “So that winds everything up.” He patted Alberta on the head and told her, “You’re a smart, brave little girl.” He seemed to have forgotten about the golden curls and beautiful blue eyes.
“There’s no real kidnaping charge, where my client here is involved,” Malone said hastily, managing to catch Alberta’s eye. “She was never really kidnaped. She just took it into her head last night to hitch a ride into town. There’s no real accounting for what little girls take into their heads to do.” Or big girls, either. “Her mother got alarmed, naturally, and reported her missing, not knowing that she was safe and sound at Helene’s.”