must have cost a lot of money. A diamond-and-ruby bracelet, on her left arm, glittered in the rays of the pine fire.
Ann greeted Peter. 'How s the burglary business tonight?'
His face was pleasant with a smile. 'I never start work before midnight.'
'Then have a drink,' Crane said.
James brought cups and fragile inhalers, and Ann poured them coffee from a chromium pot with an arched nose. Crane gave them good portions of brandy. Ann sat in a leather chair. Crane decided her legs were as attractive as Carmel s. They weren t so long, but the knees were better.
Peter said, 'What we came over for was…' Crane interrupted him. 'I know. You came for your car.'
'Oh no.'
'It s slightly damaged but it runs,' Crane persisted.
'A pebble flew up and made a hole in the window,' Ann explained.
'No, it was a bullet,' said Crane.
'A passing car.' Ann glared at him. 'A stone must have shot up from its tires.'
'It was an obvious attempt to assassinate us both.' Crane said. 'I was terrified.'
While Ann poured the brandy Carmel said, 'What we really came over for was to tell you about the Country Club dance Saturday night.' Crane smelled her gardenia perfume.
'I told you Dad fixed you up with a membership,' Peter said. 'We thought you might like to come with us.'
'That s awfully nice of you,' Ann said.
'I only dance the bunny hug,' Crane said. 'Has that got out here yet?'
'Oh yes.' Carmel smiled at him. 'We do that and the subway dip and turkey in the straw.'
'Then I ll come,' said Crane decisively. 'But you ll have to come to the Crimson Cat with me tomorrow night.'
'I think that would be splendid,' Carmel said.
They drank some more and soon Crane found himself sitting on the davenport with Carmel. Ann and Peter were in the kitchen. Carmel s skin was very pale, but it had a warm undertone of health; he thought she was a remarkably seductive woman. There was insolence about the arch of her dark brows, passion in her scarlet lips, a contemptuous abandon in the curve of her body on the couch. She had the violet-shaded hollows under her cheekbones Crane admired so much in women.
'Do all the corpses in Marchton smell of gardenias?' he asked.
Her eyes widened for an instant. 'What do you mean?' Then they looked directly into his. 'Oh, you re remembering this afternoon.'
'Yes.'
'Talmadge has a malicious tongue.'
'But your husband, someone told me he smelled of gardenias,' he lied.
Anger brought a faint glow to her eyes. 'Why shouldn t he? After all, he was my husband.' She leaned toward him so that the gardenia odor was strong in his nostrils. 'Who told you?'
'Someone.'
'You won t tell?'
'I don t think I better.'
'I can guess.' She looked at him and he imagined he saw fear and anger in her eyes. 'I can guess.'
'You have some enemies.' He would have liked to know who she was thinking of, but he didn t dare press the matter further. He wanted her to believe he actually knew something.
She was looking at him again. 'Why are you so interested?'
'I don t know,' he said. 'I am, though.' She spoke slowly. 'You re thinking there s something back of Richard s and John s deaths.'
'Perhaps.'
'Well, you re right. There is.'
He stared at her in silence, hiding his excitement.
'I might as well tell you before you stir up trouble.' Her voice was flat. 'John March killed himself.'
'But why…' he began, and stopped suddenly as Peter and Ann came from the kitchen. He began again, 'But why don t they hold the dances at the Town Club?'
'The ballroom isn t as large,' Carmel said.
Peter s voice sounded young. 'I m going to scram, give you a chance to get some sleep. Crane s got to be at the office on the dot or Dad ll think he s a loafer.'
'What office?' Crane demanded.
Ann said, 'You may not remember, darling, but you re employed by March amp; Company to write about refrigerators.'
Crane groaned. 'For a happy moment that fact had completely slipped my mind.'
Peter asked, 'Coming, Carmel?'
'You take your car and I ll walk home. I want to have a word with Mr Crane.' She glanced at Ann. 'That is, if Mrs Crane doesn t mind?'
'Of course I don t,' Ann said.
'Well, I ll be off,' Peter said.
Ann followed him out.
Crane asked, 'How do you know he killed himself?'
'He left a note.'
'He did!' Crane didn t have to act; he was really surprised. 'What did it say?'
'I can remember it exactly.' Carmel s fingers pulled at the diamond-and-ruby bracelet. 'It was written to me. It said: I can t go on… I ve got to see Richard… explain to him… good-by, darling.. forgive me as I ve forgiven you.'
'My gosh!' Crane s mind sifted the implication of the note. 'Was it signed?'
'Yes. With a J. That s the way John signed all his private letters.'
'But why wasn t the note brought out at the inquest?'
'I destroyed it.' Her words came out jerkily, as though she had been running and was out of breath. 'I wanted it to look like an accident.'
'Insurance?'
She glared at him, really angry for the first time. 'Do you think that would make any difference? What kind of a woman do you suppose I am?' Her breath made a rushing noise in her throat. 'It was his father… It would have killed him to know John was a suicide.'
Crane, surprised, asked, ' You worried about Simeon March?'
'Oh, I know he hates me.' She laughed briefly, without humor. 'He wanted John to bury himself in work, to live for March amp; Company. I… I had other ideas.' For a moment her face was tragic. 'Simeon March keeps a shell of rage and hate and hard words about him, but he can be hurt inside. He loved John. I didn t want to make him suffer. God knows there s been enough already.'
She was either acting beautifully, or her emotion was genuine. Her slender fingers plucked at the rubies on the bracelet. Her face was still masklike, but her glistening, red lower lip trembled.
He asked, 'What gave you the idea of destroying the note?'
'After I d found John, I called Paul… Dr Woodrin. He thought, at first, it was an accident.' She had turned her face away from him, was talking in a low voice. 'That gave me the idea.'
'Did you show him the note?'
She hesitated. 'Yes. He agreed that it should be destroyed, to avoid a scandal and to save Simeon March. He helped me fix the tools… close the garage doors to make it look accidental.'
Crane thought of the bizarre twist her story gave the case. Carmel, risking a great deal to protect Simeon March from the knowledge that his favorite son had killed himself. And Simeon, convinced she had murdered John.
He said, 'What did John s note mean, I ve got to see Richard… explain to him?'
A tiny blue vein fluttered at the base of her throat with each beat of her heart. She took a long time, then
