“Isn’t that reason enough?”
“It is,” Shayne said slowly, “unless Brand happens to actually be in love with you… and has reason to think you feel the same about him.”
“He isn’t.” Her voice sounded smothered. “He knew I was just… bored with life. Besides, he isn’t the sort to… to…”
“To murder a woman’s husband,” said Shayne flatly, “so she would be free to come to him. Perhaps not. But sex does do the damndest things to certain types of people. It makes them forget morals and obligations and loyalty and they don’t give a damn about broken lives.”
“You’ll just have to believe me,” she broke in. “It wasn’t that way. I was a fool to ever speak to him, but I thought it was perfectly harmless.”
“Let’s go back to this afternoon again,” said Shayne patiently. “You told Gerald and Jimmy about the agreement, pointing out that Brand must be innocent. What then?”
Her hands were gripping the wheel again. “I’d been drinking a good deal,” she admitted, “and I guess they thought I was pretty drunk. First, they tried to make me admit I was mistaken. They said no one would believe me if I did tell about it, and that’s when Jimmy threatened to tell about the times I went out with George. They both said no one would believe me after that was made public, and I… decided maybe they were right.”
“And promised to keep your mouth shut?”
“What else could I do?” she exclaimed wildly. “You’re a stranger here. You don’t know how things are in Centerville. Whom could I go to? Chief Elwood?” She laughed derisively. “Or the district attorney? They’d go straight to Seth or Persona and say, ‘Please, what do you want me to do?’ Then you came, and I thought I could at least tell you so you’d know that George isn’t guilty, and maybe you’d look harder for evidence to free him.”
Shayne thought for a time before saying, “There’s one thing in your story that doesn’t add up. If your husband told you he had everything arranged with Brand… even to the extent of showing you this signed agreement, then why in the name of God were you so worried about that meeting last night? Why did you beg him not to go? Why the premonition of disaster? A premonition that kept you awake all night and drove you to telephone Seth Gerald and ask him to go and see if your husband was all right?”
Her body was shaking and she cried out hysterically, “But I didn’t! That reporter just put words in my mouth to make a good story. I wasn’t worried one bit about Charles meeting George.”
“Why did you telephone Gerald?”
“I didn’t! I’m trying to tell you. I went straight to bed after Charles left and went to sleep.”
11
Michael Shayne was silent for two full minutes digesting this startling bit of information. “I noticed that discrepancy in the newspaper story this morning,” he said finally, “but I thought it was bad reporting. Or, that you were so upset over the news of your husband’s death that you forgot to mention the phone call and Gerald’s visit.”
“I didn’t know. I hadn’t decided then what I was going to say. You see, I didn’t promise Seth. I was all mixed up at first. All I could think of was that Charles was dead and Seth was… somehow… responsible.”
“You haven’t told this to anyone else?” Shayne asked harshly.
“No. I read Seth’s statement in the paper before I’d decided what I was going to do. Then it seemed too late. Would anyone believe me? Like my story about the strike agreement… it sounds like something I might make up to help George, and if talk got around about me going out with him, don’t you see how it would look?”
“What did happen last night?”
“I went to sleep, as I said. The doorbell wakened me about four-thirty, I guess. I didn’t look at the time. I’d been sound asleep and it startled me. First, I thought Charles must have forgotten his key, and I put on a robe to let him in. But it was Seth. He looked worried and talked fast, and said I had to do something for him and it was terribly important. He said if anyone asked me, I was to say that I’d got worried about Charles meeting Brand and called him at four o’clock. Just as he told the reporters. I asked him what had happened and whether he knew where Charles was, but he insisted that Charles was all right and for me to go back to bed and not worry, but not to forget that I had phoned him.
“He tried to make me promise, but I wouldn’t. I was sleepy and I hardly understood what he was talking about. All I could think was that Seth had got mixed up with some married woman or something and wanted me to make up a story to help him out. Then he went away, and I went back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep after that. I did begin to worry about Charles. Not because he’d gone to see George, but an accident… or something like that. Then when I got the telephone message… I couldn’t think straight. I knew it must have something to do with Seth coming and wanting me to say I’d phoned him, but I didn’t know what. When the reporter came, I just didn’t say anything one way or the other. I’ve been so damned worried and frightened.”
She began sobbing jerkily, staring straight ahead at the mist shrouding the windshield. “I don’t know what to think. There wasn’t anyone I could talk to. My thoughts ran around and around like rats in a trap. I started drinking early this afternoon, but whiskey didn’t help any.”
Shayne put his arm around her shaking shoulders. “That’s all over now,” he soothed her. “You’ve been in a hell of a spot and you’ve done about the best you could. No real damage has been done by your keeping still. From what I’ve seen in Centerville, you wouldn’t have helped George Brand any by speaking up earlier.”
She relaxed against his arm, choking back her sobs. “Do you think Seth… don’t you see what it means? He must have known something was wrong when he came and woke me up that way. He must have known something had happened to Charles and was fixing up a story.”
“Could be,” he agreed. “It could be that he had a premonition that something was wrong when he reached Brand’s house and found it empty… if that’s what he did find.” He paused a moment, then went on reflectively, “He must be telling the truth about that. He went across the street to ask Mrs. Cornell if she’d seen Brand or Roche, then drove up to the intersection and found your husband’s empty car parked there. Is this the car, by the way?”
“Yes. I have a roadster, but it’s in the garage for repairs.”
“Finding Charles’ car there at that hour of the morning,” Shayne went on slowly, “must have been something of a shock to him. Enough, perhaps, to make him realize he might need an explanation for his presence there at that time. We’ve got to remember that he had already announced himself to Mrs. Cornell, so we can’t be sure Gerald knew that something had happened to Charles when he came to your house and woke you up. We can assume he had reason to suspect something was in the wind.”
Elsa Roche had stopped sobbing, and now her breathing was deep and exhaled with long sighs. She said, “I’m sure of it. He acted so worried. I was too sleepy to pay much attention then, but thinking back, I never saw Seth so excited and upset.”
“The question is, how did he come to go to Brand’s house at that time? His asking you to cover up for him proves that he can’t afford to have the real truth known.”
“I thought of that, too,” she murmured. “He says he was awakened by an anonymous telephone call, and that’s one of the reasons why he was worried when he found Charles’ car there. Whoever called him, he says, hinted that Charles and George had had a fight, but he didn’t want to worry me about that, not knowing which one was hurt, or if it was even true. And he realized that his story of an anonymous call would sound weak and suspicious if he couldn’t prove who had called him. That’s why he wanted me to lie about it.”
“It all adds up neatly,” Shayne conceded. “Let’s face it. The anonymous caller could have been the murderer who took that method of getting Gerald on the spot to throw suspicion on him. And Seth Gerald was smart enough to circumvent the plan by using you as a valid excuse for having gone there.”