'He was good to me…'
'You keep saying that, Nancy. How was he good to you?'
'He took care of me. I was sick; he had to do so much for me…'
'What did he do for you, Nancy?'
'I don't want to talk about that.'
'Why, Nancy?'
'I don't. I don't
'All right. Tell us about the children. About Peter and Lisa.'
'They were so good…'
'They were well behaved, you mean.'
'They were so good… too good…'
' Nancy, you keep saying 'good'. Carl was so good to you. And the children were good. You must have been very happy.'
'Happy? I was so tired…'
'Why were you so tired?'
'Carl said I was so sick. He was so good to me.'
' Nancy, you must tell us. How was Carl good to you?'
'He made sure I was getting better. He wanted me to get better. He said I had to be a good little girl.'
'How did you feel sick, Nancy? What hurt you?'
'So tired… always so tired… Carl helped me…'
'Helped you how?'
'I don't want to talk about that.'
'But you must, Nancy. What did Carl do?'
'I'm tired… I'm tired now
'All right, Nancy. I want you to rest for a few minutes; then we'll talk some more. Just rest… just rest…'
Lendon got up. Chief Coffin immediately took his arm and jerked his head towards the kitchen. As soon as they were out of the room, Chief Coffin spoke abruptly. 'This isn't leading us anywhere. This could take hours and you're not going to find anything out. The girl blames herself for her mother's accident because the mother had made the trip to see her. It's that simple. Now, if you think you can find out anything else about the Harmon murders, get to it. Or else I question her at Headquarters.'
'You can't force… She's starting to talk… There's a great deal that even her subconscious doesn't want to face.'
The Chief snapped: 'And I don't want to face myself if there's any chance those kids are still alive and I've wasted precious time here.'
'All right, I'll get to questioning her about this morning. But first, please, let me ask her about the day the Harmon children disappeared. If there is any link between the two, she may reveal it.'
Chief Coffin looked at his watch. 'God, it's almost four already. Whatever visibility there was all day will be gone in half an hour. Where is a radio? I want to hear the newscast.'
'There's one in the kitchen, Chief.' Bernie Mills, the patrolman on guard in the house, was an earnest, dark- haired man in his early thirties. He'd been on the force twelve years, and this was by far the most sensational case he'd ever known. Nancy Harmon. Nancy Eldredge was Nancy Harmon! Ray Eldredge's wife. It showed. You never knew what was going on inside people. Bernie had played on the same ball team summers with Ray Eldredge when they were little kids. Then Ray had gone to one of those fancy prep schools and Dartmouth College. He had never expected Ray would settle on the Cape when he finished service. But he did. When he married the girl who'd rented this house, everybody said that she was some looker. A few people commented that she kind of reminded you of someone.
Bernie remembered his own reaction to that talk. Lots of people look like someone else. His own uncle, a deadbeat and drunk who made his aunt's life miserable, was a dead ringer for Barry Goldwater. He glanced quickly out of the window. The television news guys were all still out here, with their truck and all their gear. Looking for a story. He wondered what they'd think if they knew Nancy Eldredge was injected with truth serum right now. Now, there was a story. He was anxious to get home to tell Jean about it. He wondered how she was doing. The baby had been teething last night; kept both of them up.
For a single, terrible minute Bernie wondered how it would feel if the little guy was missing on a day like this… out there somewhere… and he not knowing. The prospect was so awful, so breathtaking, so mind-shattering that he rejected it. Jean never took her eyes off
Bobby. Sometimes she bugged Bernie the way she was always fussing over the kid. Right now her need to never take her eyes off their baby reassured him, assuaged his apprehensions. The little guy was fine – trust Jean.
Dorothy was in the kitchen filling the coffeepot. Bernie reflected that Dorothy bugged him a little. She had such a – well, guess you'd call it reserved – way. She could be nice and friendly – but, well, Bernie didn't know. He decided that Dorothy was just a little too high-falutin for his thinking.
He turned on the transistor radio, and instantly the voice of Dan Phillips, the newscaster for WCOD in Hyannis, filled the room. 'The case of the missing Eldredge children has just taken a new twist,' Phillips said, and his voice was pulsing with somewhat unprofessional excitement. 'A mechanic, Otto Linden from the Gulf Station on Route Twenty-eight in Hyannis, has just phoned us to say that he can positively state that this morning at nine a.m. he filled the gas tank of Rob Legler, the missing witness in the Harmon murder case of seven years ago. Mr Linden said that Legler appeared nervous and volunteered the information that he was on his way to Adams Port to visit someone who probably wouldn't be glad to see him. He was driving a late-model red Dodge Dart.'
Jed Coffin swore softly. 'And I'm wasting my time here listening to this claptrap.' He started for the phone and picked it up just as it rang. After the caller identified himself, he said impatiently, 'I heard it. All right. I want a roadblock on the bridges going to the mainland. Check with the FBI deserter file – find out what they may know about the latest whereabouts of Rob Legler. Put out a bulletin about a red Dodge.' He slammed the receiver back on to the hook and turned to Lendon. 'Now I've got a simple, direct question for you to ask Mrs Eldredge. It's whether or not Rob Legler got here this morning… and what he said to her.'
Lendon stared. 'You mean…'
'I mean that Rob Legler is the person who could dump Nancy Eldredge back into the middle of a murder trial. The Harmon case has never been closed. Now, suppose he's been hiding out in Canada for six years or so. He needs money. Didn't it come out at the Harmon trial that Nancy had inherited a fair amount of money from her parents? – some hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Now, suppose Rob Legler knows about that money and somehow finds out where Nancy is. The District Attorney's staff in San Francisco know where she's been. Now, suppose Legler decides he's sick of Canada and wants to come back here and needs a stake. How about going to Nancy Eldredge and promising to change his testimony if he's ever caught and there's a new trial? That's the same as making her give him a blank cheque for the rest of her life. He gets here. He sees her. The deal sours. She doesn't go for it… or he changes his mind. She knows that at any moment he may be caught or turn himself in and she's back in San Francisco on a murder charge, and she cracks…'
'And murders her Eldredge children?' Lendon's voice was scornful. 'Have you thought about the possibility that this student who nearly put Nancy in the gas chamber was in the vicinity when both sets of children disappeared?
'Give me one more chance,' Lendon pleaded. 'Just let me ask her about the day the Harmon children disappeared. I want her to describe the events of that day first.'
'You have thirty minutes – no more.'
Dorothy began pouring coffee into cups that she'd already placed on a tray. Quickly she cut up a coffee cake that Nancy had baked the day before. 'Perhaps coffee will help everyone,' she said.
She carried the tray into the front room. Ray was sitting in the chair Lendon had drawn next to the couch. He was holding Nancy 's hands in his, gently massaging them. She was very still. Her breathing was even, but as the others came into the room, she stirred and moaned.
Jonathan was standing by the mantel, staring into the fire. He had lighted his pipe, and the warm smell of the good tobacco he used had begun to penetrate the room. Dorothy breathed it in deeply as she set the coffee tray on the round pine table by the fireplace. A wave of pure nostalgia washed over her. Kenneth had smoked a pipe, and
