“Not here!” I cautioned. “Wait until we get outside!”
We walked down the broad sunlit steps and climbed into the car. I felt like a traitor to let Mary even think that I suspected Helen, but my questions had to be answered.
“Will you have luncheon with me, Mary?”
“Certainly,” she answered. “Let's go to Luigi's. We can talk quietly there.”
I headed for down-town and kept my eyes on the road, dreading to put my questions into words.
“What was it, Bupps?” Mary asked.
I decided to ask what I had to ask before telling her the coroner's verdict.
“Did you see Helen leave the house with Jim yesterday?”
“Yes. I was looking out the window when they started. Why?”
I could hardly force myself to go on.
“Was Helen—did Helen get into the front seat with Jim?” I faltered.
“No. She climbed into the back,” Mary replied. “They had some sort of an argument before they left. I knew Jim was excited and that Helen was angry. Of course I didn't hear all that passed between them, I tried not to hear any, but they talked very loud and were right in the next room.”
“What did you hear?” I asked, my heart sinking.
“Once Jim laughed, a hard sort of laugh, and I heard Helen say, 'You lie! You know you are lying! He will disprove everything you say!' Another time I heard Helen exclaim, 'Give me that pistol! You shan't threaten him while I'm there!' I knew, of course, they were speaking of Frank Woods, but I didn't know what it was all about. But why do you ask all this, Bupps?”
“Mary,” I said, and I couldn't look at her, “the coroner has given a verdict of murder.”
“Murder?” Mary gasped. I nodded.
“Jim was shot from behind, while he was driving Helen out to the country-club to meet Woods, and Helen was in the back seat.”
“She didn't do it!” Mary burst out. “She couldn't have done it.”
“Of course she didn't do it!” I exploded. We were glaring at each other as though each was defending Helen from the other's accusation. “We know she didn't do it, but there are many who won't take our word for it. I could see by the way the coroner looked at me this morning that he is ready to accuse her of murdering Jim, and it's up to us to save her, by finding out who really is guilty.”
We drove up in front of Luigi's, and I was able to get a small table, in the corner by ourselves. Although no one could have overheard us, I sat as near Mary as I could and we talked with our heads close together.
Mrs. Webster Pratt came in the door just then, with a luncheon party, and, noticing how we were engrossed, came bouncing over to the table at once.
“Poor Mr. Thompson, my heart bleeds for you—simply bleeds for you.”
I got to my feet and permitted her to squeeze my hand. She squeezes your hand or pats you at the least opportunity, and this one was unequaled.
“Poor, dear Mr. Felderson. It is such a loss. I was shocked to death when I heard it. And Mrs. Felderson, the poor child, is she going to—ah—t-t-t. I was afraid so when I read it in the paper. I'm surprised to find you here. How is your poor dear mother?”
I knew that the woman would gossip all over the place about my heartlessness, unless I explained my presence in a public café so soon after Jim's death and my sister's injury.
“My mother doesn't know about it yet,” I said quietly. “I didn't think her strong enough to stand the shock. I shouldn't have come here, but I had a very important matter to talk over with Miss Pendleton.”
“I could see that from the way you were sitting,” she giggled. “I'm afraid that you're going to give Eastbrook something to talk about as soon as this distressing thing is over.” She patted my arm, beamed at Mary and swished over to her party.
“We shouldn't have come here, Mary,” I said with a sour grimace.
“I forgot that old cat sometimes comes here. She'll spread it all over town that you were down here making love to me before Jim was decently buried. She'll probably say we're engaged.”
“Well, I wish we were.” I know I must have shown my longing in my eyes.
“Don't, please, Warren!” Mary whispered, putting her hand on my arm. “We've got too much to do. That Pratt woman drove everything out of my mind for a moment. I wish she hadn't seen us here.”
I didn't feel as though I could eat a thing and neither did Mary, so I told the waiter to bring us a light salad, and sent him away.
“Mary,” I said, after he had gone, “we know Helen didn't do this thing, but if you are called by the grand jury to tell what you just told me, they will bring an indictment against her in a minute.”
“They couldn't!” Mary expostulated. “They couldn't believe such a thing.”
“Don't you think Mrs. Webster Pratt would believe it, if she knew everything that we know?” I argued. “She'd believe it with only half as much proof, and she has just about the mental equipment of the average juryman. There'll be about four Mrs. Webster Pratts on that jury.”
“What can we do, Bupps?” Mary begged with tears in her eyes.
“Well,” I said, “you've got to see Helen as soon as they will let you and as often as they'll let you, so that the first time she speaks, you'll be there to hear what she says.”
“But suppose she dies, Bupps?”
“Even while she is unconscious,” I went on, disregarding her query, “she may say something that will give us a clue. I'm going out to the bridge right after lunch.”
“What for?” Mary asked.
“To see if I can find Jim's revolver. If it had been found on Helen, the coroner would have told me this morning, I think. Of course, they may not have taken it at all. In that case it will still be at your house. If Helen took it with her, it must have fallen out when the car turned over, and if it did, I must get it before anybody else does.”
The waiter interrupted here with the salad. Mary dabbled with hers a bit and then said:
“Bupps, hadn't I better get out of town?”
“No,” I replied. “They'd be sure to find you, and when you gave your testimony, it would hurt Helen just that much more.”
“But I can't stand up before them and tell what I heard. I'll lie first.” Her lovely little face clouded up as though she were going to cry.
“You'll do nothing of the kind!” I insisted. “We know Helen didn't do it. Don't we?”
“Ye-es.” Her tone was not convincing.
“Well, then, whatever we say can't hurt her. And we're bound to find out who the guilty persons are.”