'You certainly have a tough time with your suspects,' Williams said, taking the decanter from Crane. 'You pick Talmadge and he gets knocked off. You pick the doc and what does he do but fix it so you re his alibi for the attack on old man March.'
'There re still some more suspects,' Crane said.
'Is the old man dead?' Williams asked.
'I don t know.'
'Who was doing the shooting at you?'
'I don t know.'
Williams disgustedly emptied the decanter into a glass. 'You re making a hell of a fine record on this case.'
Crane said, 'Well, I m still alive.'
Over their drinks, Williams related what he had done during the morning. He had, in the first place, examined the exhaust pipe on Talmadge s car. There was rubber on it.
'It was sticky,' he said. 'It came off on my fingers.'
But his most important discovery was made at the Country Club. Slats Donovan had been seen there by the head locker man about the time Talmadge had died.
Crane lowered his glass. 'You re sure?'
'Positive. Thomas, that s the lockerman, used to get his stuff from Donovan during prohibition. He said he spoke to Donovan outside the locker room, thought he was waiting for a member.'
'That puts Donovan right up there,' Crane said.
Williams objected. 'Only I can t see a gangster knockin off anybody with gas.'
The doorbell rang and Beulah let in Peter March. His face was pale and tired. Williams nodded to him and left the room.
'Is he still alive?' Crane asked.
'Barely. He s at City Hospital.'
'Dr Woodrin taking care of him?'
'He s helping Rutledge, the doctor they called first.'
'How did it happen?'
'Like the others… carbon monoxide. He was found in his garage.'
'In the car?'
'No. He d fallen beside it.' Curiosity lifted his eyebrows a bit. 'What makes you ask?'
'I was just wondering.' Crane stared at him curiously. 'Peter, do you mind if I ask you something?'
'Why, no.'
'Did you find Carmel with Richard in his car that night at the Country Club?'
The question was like a blow in Peter s face. His lips became loose, his eyelids fell over his eyes. 'How did you know?'
Crane didn t reply.
'Carmel shouldn t have told,' Peter said after a long while.
'Did you kill Richard?' Crane asked softly.
'My God! No!' His black eyes were startled. 'He was killed by… You know that.' His eyes became angry. 'And if he weren t, why should I?'
'I don t know… maybe for Carmel.' Crane watched his hands, his fluttering fingers. 'You didn t tell Simeon March you killed all these people, did you?'
Peter s face was pale. 'I don t know what you re talking about.'
Crane went on: 'Simeon March didn t fake this attack to provide you with an alibi, to throw suspicion off you, did he?'
'You must be crazy.'
Crane himself couldn t see old man March doing a thing like that to protect Peter. He d be more likely to turn his son over to the police. 'Maybe I am crazy,' he said. 'I get funny ideas.'
Some of the anger left Peter s face. 'What makes you think Richard and John and Talmadge were murdered?'
'Three deaths in the same family by carbon monoxide are stretching it a bit.'
'I don t mind telling you about Richard,' Peter said. 'I didn t do anything to be ashamed of.'
He said he had noticed a growing intimacy between Carmel and Richard. He was alarmed about it for John. So when they both disappeared at the Country Club dance, he went out and found them in Richard s car. He d told Carmel to go inside, intending to give Richard a good tongue lashing, but Richard promptly passed out. So he had gone back to the dance.
Crane asked, 'Peter, did you ever tell John?'
'No.'
'But didn t Carmel tell you she thought it was John, not you, who caught her in the car with Richard?'
'You mean John never came out there at all?'
'I don t think so.'
'Then the suicide note was forged?'
'I think so.'
'My God! Poor John…' He started for the door. 'I ll have to talk to Judge Dornbush about this.' He paused in the hall. 'Give my regards to Ann.'
'I will.'
Williams appeared, and they had a drink. 'I m scared about Ann,' Crane said. 'Oh, she ll be back,' Williams said. 'It isn t noon yet.'
Crane telephoned City Hospital to inquire about Simeon March. He asked for Dr Woodrin, but got Dr Rutledge. He told the doctor he was a city detective. In reply to Crane s questions, the doctor said there were no bruises on Simeon March s body. There were no signs of a struggle. It was obviously an accident.
'Will he recover consciousness?' Crane asked.
'If he lives.'
'Will he?'
'It s a fifty-fifty chance.'
Crane asked him if he knew where the clothes the millionaire was wearing were. They were in the next room. Crane asked him to smell them.
'Anything funny?' he asked when the doctor returned to the telephone.
'No.'
'You can t smell an odor of gardenias?'
'No,' Dr Rutledge said. 'I can t smell anything.'
Crane went back to the blue-and-white living room and told Williams what he had learned. Both were surprised that there was no odor of gardenias. Until it was time for lunch they discussed the case. Crane said they had to determine if there was rubber on the exhaust pipe of Simeon March s car. Williams persisted in…
'We got plenty of clues,' Williams said.
That wasn t what Crane meant at all. What he wanted was the relevant clue. That was the way Scotland Yard always worked. The inspector always singled out the relevant clue and followed it up to the murderer.
'How re you going to know when you got it?' Williams demanded.
'It has to be something that appeared in all the deaths.'
'Gas,' Williams said.
'No.'
'Gardenias?'
'Simeon March didn t smell of gardenias.'
'But he ain t dead, either.'
Crane looked at him wide eyed. 'Maybe you ve got something there, Doc.'
Williams said, 'I wish we knew where Ann was.'
