'Very well. When?'
'Now, if it's convenient.'
When he arrived at Eve's apartment thirty minutes later, Eve opened the door for him. 'I'm very busy. What did you want to see me about?'
'About this,' Keith Webster said apologetically. He opened a manila envelope he was clutching, took out a photograph and diffidently handed it to Eve. It was a photograph of herself.
She looked at it, puzzled. 'Well?'
'It's a picture of you.'
'I can see that,' she said curtly. 'What about it?'
'It was taken after your operation.'
'So?'
'There's no scar on your forehead, Eve.'
He watched the change that came over her face.
'Sit down, Keith.'
He sat opposite her, on the edge of the couch, and he could not keep from staring at her. He had seen many beautiful women in his practice, but Eve Blackwell totally bewitched him. He had never known anyone like her.
'I think you'd better tell me what this is all about.'
He started at the beginning. He told her about his visit to Dr. Harley and about the mysterious scar, and as Keith Webster talked, he watched Eve's eyes. They were expressionless.
When Keith Webster finished, Eve said, 'I don't know what you're thinking, but whatever it is, you're wasting my time. As for the scar, I was playing a little joke on my sister. It's as simple as that Now, if you've quite finished, I have a great deal to do.'
He remained seated. 'I'm sorry to have bothered you. I just thought I should talk to you before I went to the police.' He could see that he really had her attention now.
'Why on earth would you go to the police?'
'Fm obliged to report the attack George Mellis made on you. Then there's that business about you and the scar. I don't understand it, but Fm sure you can explain it to them.'
Eve felt the first stab of fear. This stupid, dreary little man in front of her had no idea what had really happened, but he knew enough to start the police asking questions.
George Mellis had been a frequent visitor to the apartment The police could probably find witnesses who had seen him. She had lied about being in Washington the night of George's murder. She had no real alibi. She had never thought she would need one. If the police learned that George had almost killed her, it would give them a motive. The whole scheme would begin to unravel. She had to silence this man.
'What is it you want? Money?'
'No!'
She saw the indignation on his face. 'What then?'
Dr. Webster looked down at the rug, his face red with embarrassment. 'I—I like you so much, Eve. I would hate it if anything bad happened to you.'
She forced a smile. 'Nothing bad is going to happen to me. Keith. I haven't done anything wrong. Believe me, none of this has anything to do with George Mellts's murder.' She reached out and took his hand. 'I would really appreciate it very much if you would forget about this. All right?'
He covered her hand and squeezed it 'I'd like to, Eve. I really would. But they're holding the coroner's inquest Saturday. I'm a doctor. I'm afraid it's my duty to testify at that inquest and tell them everything I know.'
He saw the alarm that appeared in her eyes.
'You don't have to do that!'
He stroked her hand. 'Yes, I do, Eve. It's my sworn obligation. There's only one thing that could prevent me from doing it' He watched her leap to the bait of his words.
'What is that?'
His voice was very gentle. 'A husband can't be forced to testify against his wife.'
The wedding took place two days before the coroner's inquest. They were married by a judge in his private chambers. The mere idea of being married to Keith Webster made Eve's skin crawl, but she had no choice. The fool thinks I'm going to stay married to him. As soon as the inquest was over, she would get an annulment and that would be the end of it.
Detective Lieutenant Nick Pappas had a problem. He was sure he knew who the murderer of George Mellis was, but he could not prove it. He was confronted by a conspiracy of silence around the Blackwell family that he could not break through. He discussed the problem with his superior, Captain Harold Cohn, a street-wise cop who had worked his way up from the ranks.
Cohn quietly listened to Pappas and said, 'It's all smoke, Nick. You haven't got a fucking bit of evidence. They'd laugh us out of court.'
'I know,' Lieutenant Pappas sighed. 'But I'm right.' He sat there a moment, thinking. 'Would you mind if I talked to Kate Blackwell?'
'Jesus! What for?'
'It'll be a little fishing expedition. She runs that family. She might have some information she doesn't even know she has.'
'You'll have to watch your step.'
'I will.'
'And go easy with her, Nick. Remember, she's an old lady.'
'That's what I'm counting on,' Detective Pappas said.
The meeting took place that afternoon in Kate Blackwell's office. Nick Pappas guessed that Kate was somewhere in her eighties, but she carried her age remarkably well. She showed little of the strain the detective knew she must be feeling. She was a very private person, and she had been forced to watch the Blackwell name become a source of public speculation and scandal.
'My secretary said you wished to see me about a matter of some urgency, Lieutenant.'
'Yes, ma'am. There's a coroner's inquest tomorrow on the death of George Mellis. I have reason to think your granddaughter is involved in his murder.'
Kate went absolutely rigid. 'I don't believe it.'
'Please hear me out, Mrs. Blackwell. Every police investigation begins with the question of motive. George Mellis was a fortune hunter and a vicious sadist.' He saw the reaction on her face, but he pressed on. 'He married your granddaughter and suddenly found himself with his hands on a large fortune. I figured he beat up Alexandra once too often and when she asked for a divorce, he refused. Her only way to get rid of him was to kill him.'
Kate was staring at him, her face pale.
'I began looking around for evidence to back up my theory. We knew George Mellis was at Cedar Hill House before he disappeared. There are only two ways to get to Dark Harbor from the mainland—plane or ferryboat. According to the local sheriffs office, George Mellis didn't use either. I don't believe in miracles, and I figured Mellis wasn't the kind of man who could walk on water. The only possibility left was that he took a boat from somewhere else along the coast. I started checking out boat-rental places, and I struck pay dirt at Gilkey Harbor. At four p.m. on the afternoon of the day George Mellis was murdered, a woman rented a motor launch there and said a friend would be picking it up later. She paid cash, but she had to sign the rental slip. She used the name Solange Dunas. Does that ring a bell?'
'Yes. She—she was the governess who took care of the twins when they were children. She returned to France years ago.'
Pappas nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face. 'A little farther up the coast, the same woman rented a second boat. She took it out and returned it three hours later. She signed her name Solange Dunas again. I showed both attendants a photograph of Alexandra. They were pretty sure it was her, but they couldn't be positive, because the woman who rented the boats was a brunet.'
'Then what makes you think—?'
'She wore a wig.'
Kate said stiffly, 'I don't believe Alexandra killed her husband.'
'I don't either, Mrs. Blackwell,' Lieutenant Pappas told her. 'It was her sister, Eve.'
