'Haven't we suffered enough? This is harassment, pure and simple, and I assure you the police department will be hearing from my lawyer.'
Delaney decided to set the tone of the interrogation right then and there.
'Madam,' he thundered, 'you lied to us. Do you wish to be arrested for obstruction of justice? If not, just sit down and keep your mouth shut!'
It stunned her into silence. Mother and daughter sat down abruptly on the ornate settee. After a few seconds they clasped hands and looked fearfully up at the four cops.
'You,' Delaney said harshly, addressing Mrs. Blanche Yesell.
'You said you were here with your daughter on the night Doctor Ellerbee was killed. A deliberate falsehood. Do you wish to revise your statement now, madam?'
'Well, uh…' she said, 'I might have stepped out for a few minutes.'
'A few minutes,' he repeated scornfully, then turned to the three officers.
'Did you hear that? A few minutes! Isn't that beautiful?' He turned back to the mother.
'More like three hours and probably four. And we have the statements of your bridge club members to prove it. Three respectable women testifying to your peury. Do you dare deny it?'
He had her intimidated, but she wasn't willing to give up yet.
'My Joan is innocent!' she cried in an anguished voice.
'Is she?' Delaney said contemptuously.
'Is she really? And that's why you found it necessary to lie to us, was it?' He moved to confront the daughter, whose face had become ashen.
'And now you, Miss Yesell. Were you aware that in his will Doctor Ellerbee canceled his patients' outstanding bills?'
The unexpected question startled her. She shook her head dumbly.
'How much did you owe him?' he said sternly.
'I don't remember,' she faltered, 'exactly.'
'Sergeant Boone,' Delaney said, 'how much did Joan Yesell owe Doctor Ellerbee?'
'About ten thousand dollars,' Boone said promptly.
'Ten thousand dollars,' Delaney repeated, glaring at the young woman.
'Much, much more than any other patient.
And Doctor Ellerbee was making no effort to collect this debt.
Why do you suppose that was, Miss Yesell?'
'He was a very kind man,' her mother said in a low voice.
'And we didn't have -- 2' 'You had enough,' Delaney interrupted roughly.
'Your daughter had a good-paying job. You had enough to pay him if you had wanted to or he had dunned you for it. Boone, how do you see it?'
'I figure their affair started about a year ago,' the Sergeant said glibly.
'Then, around April, it got really serious. That was when he stopped noting her late Friday night visits in his appointment book.'
'Friday nights,' Delaney said, nodding.
'Every Friday night he could make it. His wife would take off for Brewster, and you,' he said, staring at the mother, 'you would take off for your bridge game. A sweet setup. Did he promise to divorce his wife and marry you?' he shouted at Joan Yesell.
She began weeping, burying her face in her palms. Detective Venable took one step toward her, then stopped. She knew better than to interfere.
'We know, Joan,' Delaney said, suddenly gentle.
'We know all about your affair with Doctor Simon. Did he tell you he loved you?'
Her bowed head moved up and down.
'Sure he did,' Delaney said in a soft voice.
'Said he was going to divorce his wife and marry you. But he kept stalling, didn't he? So you… Jason, where do you suppose she got the hammer?'
'That's easy,' the officer said.
'Buy one in any hardware store in town. Then throw it in a trash can when you're finished with it.'
'No, no, no!' Joan Yesell screamed, raising a tearstreaked face.
'It wasn't like that at all.'
'You stop this!' Mrs. Blanche Yesell said indignantly.
'You stop it this instant. You're upsetting my Joan.'
'No, madam, I will not stop,' Delaney said stonily.
'Your Joan was having an affair with a married man who was found murdered. We're going to get the truth if it takes all night.' He whirled on the daughter. 'You were there, weren't you? The night he was killed?'
She nodded, tears starting up again.
'What time did you get there?'
'A little before nine o'clock.'
'Why so late?'
'It was raining so hard I couldn't get a cab. They were all on radio call.
So I had to take a bus.'
'What bus?'
'Across town to First Avenue. Then up First.'
'Did you call Ellerbee to tell him you'd be late?'
'Yes.
'What did he say?'
'He said he'd wait.'
'You got up to East Eighty-fourth Street and got off the bus. You walked over to his office?'
'Yes.
'What were you wearing?'
'A raincoat.'
'Boots?'
'Yes, I was wearing rubber boots. And I had an umbrella.'
'All right, now you're at the townhouse. Then what?'
'The downstairs door was open.'
'Which door? Outer? Inner?'
'Both. The outer door is always open. But this time the inner door was open, too.'
'How far? Wide open? A few inches?'
'A few inches.'
'Then what did you do?'
'Before I went in, I rang his bell. He always told his late patients to give three short rings. So that's what I did. But he didn't buzz back.'
'And you went in anyway? Through the opened door?' .'Yes.
'Did you see tracks on the carpet? Wet footprints?'
'I didn't notice.'
'Then what?'
'I went upstairs, calling his name. No one answered.'
'And when you got to his office?'
Her head sank down again. She shuddered. Her mother slid an arm around her shoulders.
'Then what?' Delaney insisted.
'When you got to his office?'
'I found him. He was dead.'
'Where was he?'
'In the outer office. Where the receptionist sat.'
'What was his position?'
