'He moves awful quiet,' said Fred disobediently. 'Maybe he sneaked up the back stairs and pushed the lamp.'
'He didn't,' groaned Duff. 'He didn't move the detour
¦>
sign edther. He's got an alibi for attempts number one and two.'
'What?'
''Oh, yes. Oh, yes. The most perfect alibi. He's only got one pair of pants in all the world and they . . .'
'Were torn!' cried Fred. 'Say . . . ! He was hanging around the car, caught his pocket. . .'
'Don't,' begged Duff, 'mention it'
'All right, but why wouldn't he have turned the dampers?' said Alice, bringing them back to their muttons.
'Josephine says not.'
'Why not?'
'The back door makes a racket, even if he doesn't. And don't talk to me about the front door. I'll tell you right now that if he did it, I'm licked. Because I do not imderstand Mr. Johnson.'
Fred grinned. 'Look,' he said, 'the trouble with him is, there's nothing to understand. He's practically a blank page. He just says the first thing that comes into his head. He's a simple-minded guy. Not crazy, I don't mean that. But he just barges along from one minute to the next. He doesn't worry, he doesn't even think. He's simple. That's all.'
Duff said, 'I am too civilized. I have often suspected it.'
'Most people are,' said Fred generously. ''Say, you've got to see that Indian two or three times before you can believe in him.'
'Thank you,' said Duff humbly. Alice opened her mouth again.
This Fred! she thought.
21
Shadows were longer across the road. Duff lit another cigarette. 'Now, let us deal with the faking business. Are any of them faking? Can we tell? Do we know?'
'Isabel hasn't got a real right hand,' said Fred. 'We know that'
'Yes, we know that''
'About Gertrude,' said Alice. 'She must be blind.'' 'I see nothing to deny it,' said Duff. 'She didn't trip on color. Remember, I miscalled the color of the ash tray? There's nothing in her room to indicate sight. If she can see, she is far more wUy and devious and subtle and deliberately maHcious than we think.'
'Well, I think she probably is wilier than I think she is. I mean . . .' Alice began to flounder.
'Irish bull, Brennan,' said Fred. 'Get to Maud. Old happy-go-lucky.'
'It's possible,' said Duff, 'that Maud is not deaf, or at least not as deaf as she makes out.'
'But for heaven's sake,' said Alice, 'if she can hear, why go to all that trouble of making people write things down and learning finger talk and all the nuisance! Why would anybody do that? If Maud's so lazy, I should think ...'
'Wait,' said Duff. 'Imagine Maud, years ago. Bring up the past. I'm used to it. You try. Remember, one sister is blind. As such, she gets special service, doesn't she? And she is exempt from duty. The other sister has only one arm. Special service again. Exemption from duties. Leaving the third sister, who is whole, in the position of the only one in the lot who might be expected to run errands, attend to small chores, deal with tradespeople, take responsibilities, be the general overseer. There are many small executive duties connected with the running of a house. Interruptions and nuisances. Do you imagine Maud taking kindly to them? On the contrary, I think Maud's laziness perfecdy consistent with a gradual fake loss of hearing. Her sisters say, 'You go, Maud'—''Maud had better'—'Maud, will you'; but pretty soon, Maud stops hearing these requests, stops being useful. Maud loafs.
'Maud develops a psychological deafness. By not attending, by a deep inner loafing, she really doesn't hear. Or, at the very least, she seems not to hear. But I really don't know how you are going to prove that she doesn't'
'Likewise,' said Fred gloomily, 'how are you going to prove that she does?'
Duff sighed. 'We can go on guessing,' he said. 'Did you notice anything in her room, Alice?'
'I looked as hard as I could,' she said. 'There's no
alarm on her clock, but then, Maud's not the type to have an alarm clock. I'll bet she doesn't care when she gets up. I must say, she didn't seem to hear you when you were being mysterious about the telephone call. You were trying to trick her, weren't you?'
'I wonder if I didn't,' said Duff.
Alice drew her brows together. 'When?'
'When I dropped my voice and got, as you say, mysterious. She stopped chewing.'
'But . . .'
'Ever eat Melba toast?'
'Certainly.'
'It makes,' said Duff, 'a terrible racket in your own ears.'
