sacrificed my weekend, missing my sleep, seen off the press, driven all the way to Somerset, faced a hostile farmer with a shotgun, and ruined a set of clothes.
I could have pointed out that if I’d left her to do the talking, we’d still be standing on the doorstep.
Instead I controlled my anger. I gave her the look of a man who has run through his fund of sympathy. “Your show? Run it the way you want.”
Let’s give her credit: She didn’t falter. The flurry of action had taken the edge off her nerves. She tossed her hair back from her forehead, tucked the walking stick under her arm like a drill sergeant, and told Harry, “Pick up the table.”
He obeyed without a murmur.
FOURTEEN
“Why don’t you sit down?” When her suggestion had been acted on, Alice gave Harry a cool, unfilial look. “You said you could have put the court right on a few things. This is your chance.?m going to take you through the crucial days of 1943.”
With an air of authority that wouldn’t have disgraced a learned counsel examining a witness, she drew Harry’s story from him: how he and Duke had met me in Mrs. Mumford’s and driven out to Gifford Farm; how they’d met Barbara and offered to help gather the apples.
“Why?” asked Alice.
Harry’s eyebrows lifted, but he gave no answer. All the bounce had gone out of him.
“Why did you offer to help?”
‘Two bored GIs looking for free drinks and friendship, I guess.”
“So, was Barbara the attraction?”
“Sure, she was pretty. She had the whitest skin you ever saw. Rosy cheeks. Fine black hair. She was a sweet kid but kind of remote.” To this touching eulogy he added the footnote, “I didn’t expect to score with her.”
“Did Duke?” asked Alice. If proof were wanted of her self-control, it was here in the way she put the question, as if the daddy she’d never mentioned before without a tremor in her voice was suddenly a cipher.
Harry shook his head. “He was a married man.”
“So were hundreds of other GIs who went with English girls,” said Alice. “You can be frank with me.”
“All the time he was over here, Duke never looked at a woman.”
She said in the same reasonable tone, “That’s not true, is it? He escorted Barbara to the Columbus Day concert.”
None of Alice’s composure rubbed off on Harry. His voice rose to a protesting squeak. “He did it to help me out.” Then his words came in a rush. “This was twenty years ago. Nice girls moved in pairs, safety in numbers from studs like me, understand? I couldn’t date Sally without finding someone for her friend. So Duke came along. He drove the jeep, hands on the wheel, Barbara beside him clutching her handbag. They didn’t even talk much. All the action happened in the rear seat.”
“And after that evening?”
Harry looked vacant.
“Didn’t they meet secretly?” Alice asked.
“Where was this, for God’s sake?”
“In the lanes around the farm. Barbara would go for evening walks. Duke would be waiting with the jeep.”
“Sweetheart, who gave you this crap?”
Alice didn’t answer. She didn’t even look in my direction.
Harry said, “Listen, Duke spent most evenings writing to Elly. Take it from me, if he’d been going out nights in the jeep, I’d have known. Jesus, I’d have been with him.”
“Maybe he didn’t tell you.”
“Nuts.”
Still unruffled, Alice said, “Let’s backtrack, shall we? You did some shooting on the farm with Mr. Lockwood and his son?”
Harry nodded. “Joke. The only gun we could lay our hands on was a.45. That’s a pistol, an automatic. We shot nothing. And before you ask, Barbara wasn’t in the party.”
“But on another occasion you took her with you.”
“That was different. Duke had promised to give the boy a turn with the.45.” Harry’s eyes fastened on me. “Am 1 right?”
I confirmed it.
He continued, “Barbara just tagged along, as I recall. We took a few shots at an oilcan.”
“And afterwards?”
“We put the gun in the hallstand where old Lockwood kept his shotguns.” He gave a sly grin. “That.45 was like a bottle of Coke-nonreturnable.”
“So anyone could have taken it from there on the day of the murder?”
Harry passed no comment.
Alice moved on. “Let’s come to the cider pressing. While it was going on, you and Duke drove out to the farm several times, didn’t you?”
“Sure.”
“You watched Mr. Lockwood put mutton in the casks?”
“Yup.”
“And you heard Bernard mention that he’d spotted Cliff Morton’s bicycle in a ditch on the farm?”
Harry’s response was more assertive this time. He wagged a fat finger in the air. “That’s another thing. Duke hardly met the guy he’s supposed to have shot. The first time we came to pick apples-this is back in September- there was some kind of incident. I believe Morton was caught trying it on with Barbara. He was given the bum’s rush. We didn’t see him again.”
At this point in the exchange I interrupted. Harry was so wide of the mark that I couldn’t prevent myself. I said, “Whether Duke knew the man is immaterial. The motive wasn’t jealousy. He killed him because of the savage attack he made on Barbara.”
I was rewarded with a cold stare from Alice. “Will you let me continue?” she asked in a tone that left no doubt that she would. She returned to Harry. “On that afternoon you drove out to the farm with Duke to invite the girls to a party.”
“Thanksgiving Day,” Harry confirmed. “And before you ask, I was the organizer. I had it down as my benefit night. You may not believe this after what you saw just now, but Sal was hot for me in those days. I knew I was ready to score. All I had to do was set it up, keep the Shoesmith family sweet. So I talked Duke into being Barbara’s escort again. I really had to sell it to him, I can tell you. Finally, the songwriting swung it my way. He was composing these songs in the Somerset dialect, using the words he’d heard. They were three-quarters written, but he was stuck for a few more lines.”
“Which you told him Barbara could provide?”
“You got it.”
“You’re quite certain that there was nothing between them?”
“Duke and Barbara? Zilch.”
“On both sides? I mean, how about Barbara? Did she have romantic ideas about Duke?”
“I doubt it. If you ask me, she was doing Sally a favor.”
Alice said thoughtfully, “Maybe I should ask Sally.”
“Sure. Why not?” Harry was all for the spotlight moving to someone else.
“Let’s finish this. I believe you called for Sally on the way to the farm.”
“Correct.”
“And?”
Resignedly, he wound himself up again. “The party was a surprise. She’d never heard of Thanksgiving, but
