'Naturally not/'
'And if you had?'
'I'm sure I don't know/' she said sullenly. 'I could hardly hold him here bodily .'
Fiske stirred in his chair. 'What difference does it make, Lane?' he said with some belligerence. 'You heard her say she didn't know. Isn't that good enough?'
Jeff ignored him, and continued to the woman: 'Miranda says there was no will. He says you will inherit whatever Arnold had. Do you know how much that will be?'
'For one thing, this house,' she said. 'It's the only thing left in both our names.' She paused, head tipping slightly as she considered her answer. I suppose there's some money in his bank account. Two cars, die furniture. I don't know anything about his business affairs.'
'Fiske does,' Jeff said, 'He was the assistant.' He regarded the man a silent moment. 'When were you in the office last?'
'This morning, not that it's any of your business.'
'Then you knew he was cleaning out the place.'
'How do you know?' Fiske asked suspiciously. 'Where did you get those tickets?'
Touche, Jeff thought, and reminded himself to be more careful with his questions.
He was not ready to admit he had seen Grayson that afternoon, but the fact remained that the office had been cleaned out and Fiske could not help knowing it. He might even have known about the two airplane tickets. That someone was lying seemed obvious, but because it also seemed pointless to pursue that line of reasoning, he ignored the question and said:
'That hundred and twenty thousand in cash would be part of the estate, wouldn't it? Assuming that it is recovered? I mean, there's no reason now why you'd have to turn it over to Carl Webb.'
ONE MINUTE PAST EIGHT
Diana made an Impatient throaty sound. 'I should say not/' she said. 'That was Arnold's little project, not mine.'
'You knew he had raised this cash. You knew he intended to pay off so he could go back to the States '
^Well, yes/' she admitted, grudgingly, it seemed.
TBut you had made no plans for returning.'
Tm making plans now,' she said, not bothering to deny the statement. Tm going to put this house on the market 111 sell the cars and the furniture. I'm going back just as soon as I can and Dudley'~she glanced at Fiske and a suggestion of a smile softened the lines of her mouth—'is going with me.'
The same idea had already occurred to Jeff, and having seen these two together before, he could accept the announcement. Twice Diana Grayson had been married and both times happiness had escaped her. Through Grayson's neglect and indifference she had come to know Fiske and to find in him a certain loyalty and devotion she had never experienced before.
There was no way of telling how long this relationship had existed, but the understanding was there, and the change that had come over Fiske, now that this understanding was out in the open, seemed not only obvious but beneficial. With the way cleared for him he had miraculously acquired a confidence and purpose entirely lacking in his performance earlier that afternoon when Arnold Grayson was still alive. Through this woman's acceptance of him he had attained his majority as a man. Now he was ready to do what he had to do to protect his newfound gains.
How long Fiske's desire had lain dormant Jeff did not bother to guess, but he understood now that here was a motive for murder quite beside the hundred and twenty thousand in cash. The money could have been the factor that triggered their actions and brought them both to the
Hotel Tucan the night before. It was an amount which represented more than half of Grayson's estate and it occurred to Jeff that Diana seemed oddly complacent about its loss—if indeed there had been a loss.
He could not see how she could have killed either Baker or her husband, but she could have been involved as the instigator. She had stayed in the car, according to Cor-dovez, while Fiske prowled about the hotel. Both knew that he, Jeff, had left here this afternoon to see Grayson at his office. But remembering the blue tinge on that face and the welts that marked it, he could not believe she could have made them, not unless she had been able to knock him unconscious with the first blow. What had been done to Grayson had been done by a man.
Why not Fiske? He had the motive, he could have made the opportunity. If he needed an alibi, the woman could supply it.
Yet even as these thoughts came to Jeff he knew it would do no good to voice them. He could accuse and they could deny. He had no proof and could think of no way of getting any. His own accomplishment was the understanding of the relationship of these two which made possible a motive for murder he had not considered before. But he was through for the moment and he knew it.
He stood up and Fiske rose with him, his round face relieved but his bespectacled gaze revealing no uncertainty. He nodded to the woman and thanked her for the brandy. To Fiske he said:
'If you want to call the police when I leave it's (X K. with me.**
'I don't think we will,' Diana said. 'They'll only come and clutter up the place, and as I said before I don't think either of us is in a vengeful mood. Good night, Mr. Lane.'
Julio Cordovez stepped on the starter when Jeff opened
ONE MINUTE PAST EIGHT
the car door and this time, as they started to roll downhill, Jeff spoke of the things that had been said, his voice a monotone of dejection.
'Yes/' Cordovez said when the information had been given. 'It is discouraging, but it is good that you came. If you had not done so you would not understand this man and this woman. As you say, you have no proof, but you now have a motive that did not exist for you before. . . You wish to see Dan Spencer?'
'Yeah/' Jeff said, 'If you can find a telephone maybe you can get an idea when he should be through/'
They were in the valley now and presently Cordovez pulled into a gas station. When he had given his order to - the attendant he disappeared inside,
'Spencer will be finished by midnight and perhaps before,' he announced when he came back. 'It is now ten minutes after eleven.'
'Let's go,' Jeff said. And later, as they approached the downtown section, he roused himself and said: 'I think 111 handle this one alone.'
'As you wish.'
'You go down to Segurnal and see what happened there this afternoon. See if you can find out how they're figuring this one. Also—'
'Yes?' Cordovez said when Jeff hesitated.
Td like you to see Miss Holmes and tell her 111 be at your place in case she wants to get in touch with me.'
'You think this is wise?'
'If you mean can I trust her—yes. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for her.'
'That is true.'
'She knows I didn't kill Grayson and I think she'd like to help if she can. She might know something we don't. You can explain it. What I mean is'—Jeff paused because he was not exactly sure just what he meant and could find
no good reason for his concern—'if she doesn't know anything, tell her to keep away from me. I don't want her to get In any trouble on my account. But if she should know something—'
'I understand***
Cordovez made a turn into a narrow hillside street.
'I will let you out at the corner/' he said, 'and point' out the proper building. You will want to wait near by, but I would not stand in one place too long.'
'Oh?'
'The city police are not as smart as the oficiales of Segnrnal but one could become curious.'
'Ill watch it,' Jeff said as the car stopped at the intersection. He followed Cordovez's pointing finger and located the doorway to the Bulletin halfway down the block. 'See you back at your place,' he said, and then moved into the shadows, walking downhill and keeping to the curb.
