Show of Evil

head by a gnat's ass and I just thought, She's gonna kill me! So I charge around the corner and fire once and it kind of knocks her back in the chair and her arm flung up and she put another shot into the ceiling and I was charging right at her and I shot again. It all happened in, like, less than a minute.'

'What did you think after all the shooting was over?'

 'What did I think? I was out of breath. I was scared. She almost killed me.'

'But what did you think while this was happening? Did you call to her, try to reason with her?'

'Hell, no, it all happened just like that. Bang, bang, bang, bang. Bullets flying through the wall. I wasn't thinking. I was trying to stay alive.'

 'Did you warn her?'

'A bullet just flew that damn close to my head. Warn her about what? 'Hey, Ramona here I come, ready or not'? I just panicked and I figured it's her or me and ran into the room shooting.'

'So now it's over. Your wife is lying there with two wounds, one in her head. What went through your mind?'

'At first I got choked up. I almost puked, I never shot a human being before. And she was bleeding. And I dropped the gun down and felt for a pulse in her wrist, but I, y'know, I was confused and upset, so I went in and called 911. That's when I saw where she broke into my gun cabinet and that's when I found the phone number beside the phone.'

'Was the phone number in your wife's handwriting?'

'Hell, I dunno, you think I was analysing handwriting? The cops talked to me for three, four hours that night. They took the note and I haven't seen it since.'

'But you didn't write it?'

Vail sat back in his chair and concentrated on Parver. She was doing a superb job. The handwriting of the note had not occurred to Vail - or to anyone that he was aware of. She was cool, quiet but not soft, very direct, and she was beginning to rattle Darby. She was totally focused. For a moment, she reminded Vail of Jane Venable, the prosecutor who had preceded him as chief prosecutor.

'Hell, no,' Darby snapped. 'I told you, she wasn't listed, you think I wanted my wife to call her up?'

'Do you have any idea where she might have found that number?'

 'No.'

'Who else knew the number?'

 'How the hell do I know?'

'Is it possible that you wrote the number down and forgot it and she found it? In a drawer or something like that?'

'I… didn't… write… the goddamn number. Is that clear?'

He turned to Rainey and said plaintively, 'It's the same damn questions as last time. They know the answers, what the hell is this?' He turned back to Parver. 'I killed my wife, okay? She shot at me, I shot at her. That's it. I got nothing more to say.'

'He's right,' said Rainey. 'It's the same ground you ploughed last time.'

'I just want to make it clear to you, Mr Darby, that we have two strong motives for murder here,' Shana Parver said. She counted items off on her fingers. 'Money - a $250,000 insurance policy, and you're about to go into bankruptcy - and infidelity. They're the biggies, Mr Darby. It's also a hard story to come to terms with, this shootout scenario. Your wife wasn't a violent woman from everything we've been told. And she also hated guns. Isn't it true that you wanted her to take shooting lessons and she refused to touch a gun?'

'Yeah. Maybe that's why she missed me,' he said with a sneer.

'The point is, Mr Darby, if we need to talk to you again, we will. We'll keep talking to you until we decide for sure whether or not this homicide was justifiable.'

He stood up angrily and leaned towards her with both hands on the table. 'It happened just the way I said it happened. Ramona and me are the only two people that were there and she's dead. Try to prove otherwise or leave me alone, little lady.'

He spun around and slammed out of the room.

Rainey stood and put his papers in his briefcase. He looked at Vail and shook his head.

'I object to this whole meeting, Miss Parver. The note is moot. It was there. It substantiates Miss Palmer's statement and both you and the cops have had rounds with her. Stop trying to make chicken salad out of chickenshit. You know this could just as easily have gone the other way. Jimmy could be underground and you could be going after Ramona Darby for blowing him away.' He shook his head. 'You two are whistling 'Dixie' on this one.'

He followed Darby out of the room.

'Damn!' Parver said, slamming down her pencil.