Calamity Town

you. You see, I thought they knew?”

“You weren’t responsible, Nora,” said Pat. ”Ellery understands that.”

“But there’s something else,” cried Nora. ”I can apologize for a nasty thought, but I can’t wipe out what I did to Jim.” Her lower lip quivered. ”If not for me, they’d never have found out about those letters!”

“Nor dear,” said Pat, leaning over her, “you know you mustn’t. If you keep crying, I’ll tell Uncle Milo and he won’t let you have any company.”

Nora sniffled with her handkerchief to her nose. ”I don’t know why I didn’t burn them. Such a stupid thing?to keep them in that hatbox in my closet! But I had some idea I’d be able to find out who really wrote them. I was sure Jim hadn’t?”

“Nora,” said Ellery gently, “forget it.”

“But I practically handed Jim over to the police!”

“That isn’t true. Don’t forget Dakin came here last week prepared to arrest Jim. Questioning you beforehand was just a formality.”

“Then you think those letters and the book don’t make any essential difference?” asked Nora eagerly.

Ellery got up from the bed and looked out the window at the winter sky. ”Well . . . not too much.”

“You’re lying to me!”

“Mrs. Haight,” said Pat firmly, “you’ve had enough company for one morning. Ellery, scram.”

Ellery turned around. ”This sister of yours, Pat, will suffer more from doubt than from knowledge. Nora, I’ll tell you exactly what the situation is.”

Nora gripped her comforter with both hands.

“If Dakin was prepared to arrest Jim before he knew about the letters and the toxicology book, then obviously he and Carter Bradford thought they had a good case.” Nora made a tiny sound. ”With the letters and the book, therefore, they just as obviously have a better case. Now that’s the truth, you’ve got to face it, you’ve got to stop accusing yourself, you’ve got to be sensible and get well again, you’ve got to stand by Jim and give him courage.” He leaned over her and took her hand. ”Jim needs your strength, Nora. You have a strength he lacks. He can’t face you, but if he knows you’re behind him, never wavering, having faith?”

“Yes,” breathed Nora, her eyes shining, “I have. Tell him I have.”

Pat came around the bed and kissed Ellery on the cheek.

“Going my way?” asked Ellery as they left the house.

“Which way is that?”

“Courthouse. I want to see Jim.”

“Oh. I’ll drive you down.”

“Don’t go out of your way?”

“I’m going to the Courthouse, too.”

“To see Jim?”

“Don’t ask me questions!” cried Pat a little hysterically.

They drove down the Hill in silence. There was ice on the road, and the chains sang cheerfully. Wrightsville looked nicely wintry, all whites and reds and blacks, no shading; it had the country look, the rich and simple cleanliness, of a Grant Wood painting.

But in town there were people, and sloppy slush, and a meanness in the air; the shops looked pinched and stale; everybody was hurrying through the cold; no one smiled. In the Square they had to stop for traffic; a shopgirl recognized Pat and pointed her out with a lacquered fingernail to a pimpled youth in a leather storm-breaker. They whispered excitedly as Pat kicked the gas pedal.

On the Courthouse steps Ellery said: “Not that way, Miss Wright,” and steered Pat around to the side entrance.

“What’s the idea?” demanded Pat.

“The press,” said Mr. Queen. ”Infesting the lobby. I assume we’d rather not answer questions.”

They took the side elevator.

“You’ve been here before,” said Pat slowly.

“Yes.”

Pat said: “I think I’ll pay Jim a visit myself.”

The County Jail occupied the two topmost floors of the Courthouse. As they stepped out of the elevator into the waiting room, an odor of steam and Lysol rushed into their noses, and Pat swallowed hard. But she managed a smile for the benefit of Wally Planetsky, the officer on duty.

“If it ain’t Miss Pat,” said the officer awkwardly.

“Hullo, Wally. How’s the old badge?”

“Fine, fine, Miss Pat.”

“Wally used to let me breathe on his badge and shine it up when I was in grade school,” Pat explained. ”Wally, don’t stand there shifting from one foot to the other! You know what I’m here for.”

“I guess,” muttered Wally Planetsky.

“Where’s his cell?”

“Judge Martin’s with him, Miss Pat. Rules say only one visitor at a time?”

“Who cares about the rules? Take us to my brother-in-law’s cell, Wally!”

“This gentleman a reporter? Mr. Haight, he won’t see any reporters excepting that Miss Roberts.”

“No, he’s a friend of mine and Jim’s.”

“I guess,” muttered Planetsky again; and they began a long march, interrupted by unlocking of iron doors, locking of iron doors, steps on concrete, unlocking and locking and steps through corridors lined with man-sized birdcages; and at each step the odor of steam and Lysol grew stronger, and Pat grew greener, and toward the last she clung tightly to Ellery’s arm. But she kept her chin up.

“That’s it,” murmured Ellery; and she swallowed several times in succession.

Jim sprang to his feet when he spied them, a quick flush coming to his sallow cheeks; but then he sat down again, the blood draining away, and said hoarsely: “Hello there. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Hello, Jim!” said Pat cheerily. ”How are you?”

Jim looked around his cell. ”All right,” he said with a vague smile.

“It’s clean, anyway,” grunted Judge Martin, “which is more than you could say about the old County Jail. Well, Jim, I’ll be on my way. I’ll drop in tomorrow for another talk.”

“Thanks, Judge.” Jim smiled the same vague smile up at the Judge.

“Nora’s fine,” said Pat with an effort, as if Jim had asked.

“That’s swell,” said Jim. ”Fine, uh?”

“Yes,” said Pat in a shrill voice.

“That’s swell,” said Jim again.

Mercifully, Ellery said: “Pat, didn’t you say you had an errand somewhere? There’s something I’d like to say to Jim in private.”

“Not that it will do you the least good,” said Judge Martin in an angry tone. It seemed to Ellery that the old jurist’s anger was assumed for the occasion. ”This boy hasn’t the sense he was born with! Come along, Patricia.”

Pat turned her pale face to Ellery, mumbled something, smiled weakly at Jim, and fled with the Judge. Keeper Planetsky relocked the cell door after them, shaking his head.

Ellery looked down at Jim; Jim was studying the bare floor of his cell.

“He wants me to talk,” mumbled Jim suddenly.

“Well, why not, Jim?”

“What could I say?”

Ellery offered him a cigarette. Jim took it; but when Ellery held a lighted match up, he shook his head and slowly tore the cigarette to shreds.

“You could say,” murmured Ellery between puffs, “you could say that you didn’t write those three letters or underline that paragraph on arsenic.”

For an instant Jim’s fingers stopped tormenting the cigarette; then they resumed their work of destruction. His colorless lips flattened against his face in something that was almost a snarl.