'Suppose you start this from the beginning,' he said.
'Of course. Please sit down.' She dropped into an easy chair, letting Beigler get a glimpse of her thighs as she adjusted her skirt. 'We were coming back from a camping vacation. It was late. Tom decided to take a short cut from the Miami highway, down the dirt road through the woods, to the Paradise City highway. I'm sure you must know it . . .' She broke off, seeing Terrell was still standing. She was determined to dominate the interview, and smiling, she pointed to a chair. 'Do please sit down, Chief. You look so tall, standing like that.'
Terrell lowered his bulk into the chair while Beigler, notebook in hand, leaned up against the wall. Tom sat on an upright chair, behind Sheila.
'This is all news to me,' Maisky burbled. 'I have only just arrived. Has there been a robbery, then?'
'Excuse me,' Terrell said curtly. 'I want to hear what Mrs. Whiteside has to say.'
'I'm sorry . . . of course . . . excuse me.' Maisky beamed, settling himself back in his chair. 'This is all very interesting.'
Well, at least, I have got it away from that numbskull, Sheila was thinking, and I've got to keep away from him.
'Yes,' she said, leaning forward and staring with round eyes at Terrell. 'So we took this dirt road and then our car broke down. It was the oil pump, wasn't it, Tom?' She looked over her shoulder. 'You said it was the oil pump?'
Tom jerked his head.
'That's right.'
'Well, there we were . . . right in the middle of the forest . . . stuck, and it was growing dark.' She crossed her legs for Beigler's benefit. May as well give this flatfoot something to concentrate on, she thought. Beigler, who never missed anything like that, thought she was sensational . . . and those legs! 'We decided to sleep the night there. In the morning as we were getting ready to walk . . .' She paused to make a comic gesture. 'Imagine walking five miles! I found this car.' She regarded Terrell to see how he was accepting her story. No good flashing her sex at him. He was one of the square, safely married fossils.
'When you found the car, Mrs. Whiteside, didn't you think you should have reported it to the police?' Terrell said.
She laughed.
'I just didn't think . . . nor did Tom. We were worried about leaving the camping equipment in our car. We had borrowed it and it could have been stolen while we were walking down to the bus stop. I just refused to be left alone in that forest . . . it scared me.' She paused and looked at Beigler, inviting his sympathy. He thought: I'd like to have you alone, baby . . . a desert island for preference. She switched her gaze back to Terrell. 'So we didn't think. Tom had a master key. We put our things in the car and took off. As soon as we got home, we unpacked, then got a new pump and went back. We left the Buick right where we had found it. Tom fitted the new pump and we drove home.'
Terrell scratched the side of his jaw. This sounded like the truth, he thought. O'Toole's report jelled with hers.
'Did you look in the boot?' he asked Tom.
Tom started, hesitated, then shook his head.
'Why, no. We—we just threw our stuff on the back seat. No . . . we didn't look in the boot.'
Terrell got to his feet.
'I'll have to ask you to show us where you left the Buick . . . right now.'
'Of course.' Tom got to his feet. 'I'll just put on my jacket.'
As he left the room, Sheila stood up.
'You really mean, Chief, that we were driving the gangster's car?'
'I guess so,' Terrell said, aware that Beigler's eyes were roving over Sheila's body.
'Well!' Sheila spun around to Maisky who was now standing. 'I guess we'll be able to eat out on this story for weeks!'
'Quite extraordinary,' Maisky said. 'But I really don't understand what it is all about.' He peered at Terrell. 'Why do you imagine the car was hidden, Inspector?'
Terrell muttered something, then walked to the door. This little, white-haired clergyman bored him.
Tom came out of the bedroom. His white, drawn face sent a pang of fear through Sheila. The dope could yet spoil everything, she thought.
'All set, Chief,' Tom said.
Sheila ran to him and kissed his cheek—something she hadn't done for as long as he could remember. Then, with a wifely gesture, she straightened his tie.
'You won't keep him long, Chief,' she said to Terrell. 'He really is sick, but he's being awfully good about it.'
'We won't be long, Mrs. Whiteside.'
Terrell opened the front door, then, followed by Tom Beigler, went down the garden path.
Sheila stood in the doorway and watched the three men get in the car. Then Lepski came down the road and joined them. As he slid under the wheel, Jacoby squeezed in at the back.
The car drove away.
'Very nicely done, my pretty,' Maisky said as Sheila came into the living-room. 'I couldn't have done better myself.'
