table.
'Dick's father, I believe,' said Nan distantly.
'I don't understand about the pin,'said Dorothy.
Nan folded her hands and looked cool and detached.
'There were two pins alike,' said Johnny rapidly. 'Old Mrs. Bartee gave Christy one. Nathaniel's wife, the other. Christy's was in the safe, that evening. The safe was found open, at midnight. Christy's pin was gone. But Nathaniel's pin was in McCauley's pocket.'
Dorothy blinked. 'You mean they thought this McCauley took the pin out of the safe? Is that it?'
'That's it,' said Johnny. 'Nobody believed that Miss Cal-lahn, here, ever had one.'
'Why didn't they?' asked Dorothy.
'Because Nathaniel Bartee produced a second pin.'
'I don't understand . . .'
'Do you?' Johnny asked Kate Callahan.
'I expect it was on the floor, in there,' said Kate, 'and the old lady or, either, Nathaniel, one of them picked it up.'
'And lied?' gasped Dorothy. 'But why would Miss Callahan say she had one, if that wasn't true?'
Kate's mouth curled. 'For heaven's sakes, call me Kate, dear.'
'But you told about it—the police and all?' Dorothy demanded.
'Sure, I told. Got on the witness chair or whatever they call it. Told the truth.' Kate's fat shoulders moved as it to say that truth had no chance in this seamy world. 'Them Bartees hed.'
Nan said, 'Please, Johnny . . .' She looked distressed.
'A minute. Why did they lie, Kate? Were they trying to hurt McCauley?'
'I don't think so,' the fat woman said, 'I think it was just because the old man would have kicked Nathaniel out of the house for ever being near me.' She spoke without resentment. 'See, Nathaniel, he was afraid. You take a man who's afraid—' Kate looked sad, paint and all.
'What was he afraid of?'
'TH[is old man. The old lady. The world/'
'I thought the old lady-'
'Oh, she stuck up for him. But she bossed him/' Kate said. 'That was the price of it. Nathaniel shoulda had a woman who'd let him be the boss. If he hadn't wanted to be the boss, Nathaniel would have got along a lot better.'
'Tou are talking about Dick's father?' said Nan in a tight voice.
'That's right/' Kate nodded. 'I didn't know him long. It was one time the old man went away for about six weeks and Nathaniel was worse oflF than ever. See, he was left in charge. He had his chance. He found out he just didn't have the guts to be the boss—or the nerve, or what it takes. He wasn't up to it. This hit him. Well, I was younger then That must be 1930 or '31—a million years ago.
'People come in here. Well, I'm friendly. They like to talk, you know. I guess it helps if you find a place where you say what's on your mind. Anyhow, he gave me that pin, last time I saw him, I think it was. He didn't say it was real jewels. I didn't think anything of it. He wanted to do something nice. There was no harm in that. But when it comes to the trial Nathaniel gets up and lies about it. Well, probably he had to.' Kate understood, forgave.
'Why should he he?' said Dorothy fiercely.
'I told you. The old man would have kicked him out.'
'WelI, then, he should have got out—'
'It would have been rough on him,' Kate said. -
'Or good for him,' said Dorothy angrily.
'Maybe so, dear. But things don't always happen the way they should, I guess.' (Almost never, Kate's tone implied.) 'When I couldn't help poor Chnton McCauley out of that mess, beheve me, I felt bad. Still, I think now he would have been miserable, anyhow. With Christy gone. He was too crazy about her. Well, I dunno . . .' Kate seemed to be accepting, digesting, almost bringing herself around to the point of agreeing with an old evil. Then she said, 'One person I felt real sorry for, and that's the little baby. Poor little thing. Her mama killed, her papa sent up, and not true either.'
'You think,' said Johnny quickly, 'that Chnton McCauley did not do itr
'I said so, didn't I? I know this much. He never took
any pin out of that safe, see? The one he had in his pocket was mine. That's what I know. And if they'd believed me, I don't think they could have put him away.'
Dorothy said, with vigor, 'If Clinton McCauley didn't kill her, who could have done it?'
Johnny, paralyzed, couldn't speak, couldn't stop an answer. Wasn't sure whether he ought . . .
'Who did kill Christy McCauley?' said Kate. 'WeU, dear, I got an awful good guess. The crazy kid did it. You know, Nathaniel's kid. Richardson Bartee?'
Chair legs scraped. Nan rose. Her face was white. 'You horrible woman!' she said. She got around the table.
