head.
“Can she talk yet?” I asked Charlotte.
“Yes, I think so. Just be easy with her.”
I knelt in front of the maid and patted her hand. “Feel better?” She nodded. “Good, I just want to ask you a few questions, then you can lie down. Did you see anyone come or go?”
“No. I—I was in the back of the house cleaning up.”
“Did you hear a shot?”
Another negative.
I called over to the colored man. “What about you, hear anything?”
“Nosuh, I don’ heah nuthin’.”
If neither had heard the shot, then the silencer must still be on the .45. And if the killer had it around, we’d find it. That kind of a rig is too big to hide.
I went back to the maid. “Why did you go upstairs?”
“To straighten out the clothes. The women had left them all over the bed. That’s when I saw the b-body.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly.
“Now, one more thing, did you touch anything?”
“No, I faulted.”
“Put her to bed, Charlotte; see if you can find something to make her sleep. She’s pretty upset.”
Between Charlotte and Esther they half dragged the maid to a bed. Mary Bellemy was pouring one drink after another in her. She wouldn’t be standing up much longer. I took the darky aside. “I’m going upstairs. Don’t let anyone in or out unless I say so, you hear? You do and you’ll wind up in jail yourself.” I didn’t have to say anything else. He stammered out a reply that I didn’t get, then locked and bolted the front door.
My killer had to be somewhere around. He had to leave through the front door unless he went out an upstairs window. Everything else was locked up tightly. But except for the little bit of time the bartender was away from the door, someone was there. That time had been enough to let the killer in, but not enough to let him back out again. Not without being seen by the bartender, that is. If the darky had seen someone and had been told to keep his mouth shut, I would have known it. I could swear that he was telling the truth. Besides, my killer would have knocked him off as well, and as easily, rather than take the risk of exposure.
From the top of the stairs, the hall crossed like a T. Doors opened off the one side, and each proved to be a guest room. I tried the windows. Locked. I went up and down both ends of the T trying to find where the exit was. Each room I inspected and searched with my rod in my fist, waiting, hoping.
The murder room was the last room I tried. And that’s where the killer got out. The window slid up easily, and I looked down fifteen feet to a flagstone walk below. If he had jumped he wouldn’t be walking now. The drop was enough to break a leg, especially on those stones. Around the building and directly under the window ran a narrow ledge. It projected out about eight inches from the wall and was clean of dust or dirt on both sides of the window. I lit a match and looked for heel marks in the concrete of the ledge, but there were none. Not a mark. This was enough to drive me nuts.
Even the eight inches wasn’t enough to walk across on barefaced brick. I tried it. I got out on the ledge and tried first to walk along with my face to the wall, then with my back to it. In both cases I almost took a spill. It would take a real athlete to cross that. Someone who was part cat.
Inside the room, I pulled the window down and went back to the hall. At either end a window overlooked the grounds. I didn’t see it at first, but when I stuck my head out there was a fire-escape ladder built into the wall adjacent to the window. Oh, how pretty if it could be done. The killer strikes, then out the window to the ledge, and around to the fire escape. Now I had an acrobat on my hands. Swell, more headaches.
I went downstairs and took the bottle away from Mary in time to salvage a drink from the wreckage and ease her into a chair. She was dead drunk.
A half hour later I had still gotten nowhere when I heard the pounding of feet outside and told the darky to open up.
Pat and his staff walked in escorted by some county police. How that guy could get around the red tape of city limitations and restrictions was beyond me. He went upstairs at once, listening as I gave him the details.
I finished as he was bent over the body. The county coroner bustled in, declared the girl officially dead and made out a report. “How long since she died?” Pat asked.
The coroner hemmed and hawed, then said, “Roughly, about two hours. This warm weather makes it difficult to place the time exactly. Tell better after an autopsy.”
Two hours was close enough. It had happened while I was out in the bushes with Mary Bellemy.
Pat asked me, “Everyone here?”
“Guess so. Better get a guest list from Esther and check up. I posted guards around the wall and at the gate.”
“Okay, come on downstairs.”
Pat herded the entire group of them into the main room in the other section of the building. He had them packed in like sardines. Esther gave him a guest list and he read off names. As each one heard his name called, he sat on the floor. The detectives watched closely to be sure none of them moved until they were supposed to. Half the group was seated when Pat called out “Harmon Wilder.”
No answer. He tried again, “Harmon Wilder.” Still no answer. My little friend had vanished. Pat nodded to a detective who moved to a phone. The manhunt was on.
Six names later Pat sang out, “Charles Sherman.” He called it three more times and no one answered. That was a name I hadn’t heard before. I walked over to Esther.
“Who is this Sherman?”
“Mr. Wilder’s assistant. He was here during the game. I saw him.”
“Well, he’s not here now.”
I relayed the information to Pat and another name went out to call cars and police stations. Pat read down the list; when he was done there were still twenty standees. Gate crashers. You find them everywhere. The total number crammed into that house was over two hundred and fifty persons.
Pat assigned a certain number to each detective and some to me. Because I had been on the scene he let me take all the servants, the twins, Charlotte, and ten others from the party. Pat took the gate crashers for himself. As soon as he gave out the list, he quieted the assembly and cleared his throat.
“Everyone present here is under suspicion for murder,” he said. “Naturally, I know that you all couldn’t have done it. You are to report to each of my men as your name is called. They will speak to you separately. What we want is your alibi, whom you were with at the game, or wherever you were”—he checked his watch—“two hours and fifty minutes ago. If you can vouch for someone standing near you, do it. By doing so you are only insuring your own alibi. I want the truth. Nothing else. We will catch you if you try falsifying your statements. That is all.”
I collected my group and took them out on the porch. The household help I disposed of first. They had all been together and spoke for one another. The ten new faces assured me that they had been with certain parties and I took their statements. Mary had been with me, so she was out. Esther had been beside the referee’s stand most of the time and this was corroborated by the rest. I shooed them away, Esther leading her still half-out sister. I saved Charlotte until last so we could have the porch together.
“Now you, kitten,” I said. “Where were you?”
“You have a nerve,” she said laughingly. “Right where you left me.”
“Aw, don’t get sore, baby, I was trapped.”
I kissed her and she said, “After that all is forgiven. Now I’ll tell you where I was. Part of the time I was sipping a coke with a nice young gentleman named Fields, and part of the time exchanging witticisms with a rather elderly wolf. I don’t know his name, but he was one of those that weren’t on the list. He has a spade beard.”
I remembered him. I put down “spade beard,” no name. Charlotte stayed close to me as we walked back into the room. Pat was picking up the list as his men finished and cross-checking them to see if the stories held water. A couple had the names confused, but they were soon adjusted. When all were in we compared them.
Not a single one was without an alibi. And it didn’t seem sensible that Wilder and Sherman should have run off —they had been accounted for, too. Pat and I let out a steady stream of curses without stopping. When we got our breaths Pat instructed his men to get names and addresses of everyone present and told them to inform the guests that they had better stay within reaching distance or else.
