"Nightclub performer. Interesting."
"I do voices, you know? I used to be a ventriloquist. Now I'm a mimic; imitations, that sort of thing. Nothing great. I get by."
"And Adam?" I said. "What did Adam do?"
"He was a real-estate broker, and a shrewd investor in the stock market. He was a stodgy stingy man — which is probably why he never got married. He was like a father to us but, actually, he never helped us with money unless it was an emergency. But advice — plenty. And criticism — plenty. I can't say he was bad to us, but he wasn't really good to us. I hope I'm making myself clear."
"Yes. Very clear, Miss Troy."
"Now about the wills."
"Wills?" I said.
"Last wills and testaments. We all have like it's called reciprocal wills. If one dies, whatever he leaves is divided amongst the rest of us. I'm sure you know about reciprocal wills."
"Yes, of course."
"All right. Now last year, Adam made a real big win in the stock market and he suggested that we take a vacation together, a winter vacation, and that he would pay for all of it. A couple of weeks of skiing, fun, out-of-doors, up in Vermont. Two weeks in a winter wonderland, you know?"
I nodded.
"We, the rest of us, Joseph, Simon, and I — we arranged for those two weeks — the two middle weeks in November — and we all went up to a lodge at Mt. Killington in the Green Mountains of Vermont." She shuddered and was silent. Then she said, "I don't know how it began. Maybe we all had it in our minds, maybe that guilt was like a poison in all of us, but it was Joseph who said it first."
"Said what, please?"
"Said to get rid of Adam. Adam was upstairs sleeping and the three of us were sitting around downstairs in front of a big roaring fireplace, drinking, maybe getting a little drunk, when Joseph put out the suggestion and we were with him so fast it was like all of us said it together. I don't want to blame anyone. I say all three of us have the blame together. None of us ever had any money, real money, and all of a sudden it came to us, that we could have just that, real money, while we were still young enough to enjoy it." She shuddered again and put her hands over her face. She spoke through her hands. "From here I'd like to go real quick. Please?"
"Okay," I said.
Her hands dropped to her lap. "Next day, dressed warmly in ski suits, we went out on an exploring adventure, up into the mountains. Way up, high, Adam was standing near a crevice, a ravine, about a two thousand foot drop, with a little narrow river running on bottom. Joseph came up behind him, shoved, and Adam fell. That's all. He fell. All the way. There were like echoes coming back, and then — nothing. When we returned, we reported it. We said he had slipped and fallen. The police went up to investigate, there was an inquest, and that was it."
"What was it?"
"The coroner's verdict was death by accident."
I came up out of my chair. I walked my office. I walked in front of her, in back of her, and around her. She did not move. She sat with her hands clasped in her lap. I said, "All right. So much for the incriminating matter. Now, if you please, what ghost killed whom?"
She was motionless. Only her lips moved. "The ghost of Adam killed Joseph."
"My dear Miss Troy," I said. "Only a few minutes ago you told me that Joseph committed suicide."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Chambers, I did not tell you that."
"But you — "
"I said supposedly killed himself."
Grudgingly, I admitted my error. "True, you said that. But how can one possibly tell the difference? I mean — "
"May I tell it my own way?"
"Please do." I went back to my chair, sat, watched her as she spoke, but my eyes did not meet hers. Somehow, on this bright-white normal afternoon in January, in the accustomed confines of my very own office, I could not bring myself to look full upon this woman's eyes.
"I live at One-thirty-three West Thirty-third Street," she said.
"Uh huh," I said and happily business-like, I jotted it down, delighted for something prosaic to do.
"It's a one-room apartment on the fourth floor. 4 C."
"Yeah, yeah," I murmured, jotting assiduously.
"Two months ago, on November fifteenth, exactly one year from the time of his death, Adam came to visit me."
"Adam came to visit," I murmured as I jotted — and then I flung the pencil away. "Now just a minute, Miss Troy!"
Quite mildly she said, "Yes, Mr. Chambers?"
"Adam is the guy who's dead, or isn't he? Adam is the guy whom, allegedly, you people murdered, or isn't he?"
"Yes, he is."
"And he came to visit you?"
"Precisely."
I sighed. "Where?"
"On the afternoon of November fifteenth, I had gone out to the supermarket for a bit of shopping. When I came home, he was there, sitting quietly in a chair, waiting for me."
I recovered my pencil and pretended to make notes. "Are you sure it was Adam?"
"The ghost of Adam. Adam is dead."
"Yes, naturally, ghost of Adam. How did he look?"
"Exactly as he had looked on the day he died. He was even wearing the same clothes — the high-laced boots, the green ski suit, the green ski cap."
"He talked to you?"
"Yes."
"How did he sound?"
"As always. Adam had a deep booming voice. He sounded sad, aggrieved, but not, actually, angry."
"And what did he say?"
"He said that he had returned to visit retribution on us; those were the exact words — visit retribution. He said he was going to kill Joseph first, then Simon, and then me. Then he stood up, opened the door, and walked out."
"And you?"
"I called my brothers, they came to my apartment, and I told them just what happened. Of course, they didn't believe me. They told me it was my imagination, that I had been highly nervous of late. They suggested that I go see a doctor. All in all, somehow, they talked me out of it. I did nothing about it — not even when Joseph was killed."
"Suicide, even supposed suicide — "
"Joseph slashed his wrists and died. But there was no weapon. No weapon was found near the body; there was no weapon with blood anywhere in his apartment."
I lit a new cigarette. The flame of the match trembled. I blew it out quickly and deposited it in the tray. I inhaled deeply. I said, "Miss Troy, you did nothing about it then — why are you doing something about it now?"
"Because Adam came to visit me again last night. When I returned from work, he was seated in the same chair, dressed exactly as the other time. He said that he had accomplished his purpose with Joseph — and that Simon was next. Then he got up, opened the door, and went out."
"And you?"
"I fainted. When I came to, I became hysterical. That passed, and then I put on a fresh make-up, and went directly to my brother Simon. It was late at night, but I didn't care. Simon lives on West Fourth Street, quite near to where I work. I rang his bell until he woke up and let me in. I told him what had happened and again he just didn't believe me. He told me that he insisted that I go to a doctor and that he was going to make arrangements for just that. Today I decided I had to do something about it. I'd heard about you — and I'm here. Please, Mr. Chambers, will you help me? Please. Please."
"I'll do whatever I can," I said. I inquired and made notes about names, addresses and phone numbers, where she worked, where her brothers worked, all of that. Then I printed my home phone number on one of my business cards and gave it to her. "You may call me here or at home whenever you please," I said.
"Thank you." She smiled her first smile, gratefully.
I placed her three hundred dollars into a drawer of my desk and said, "All right. Let's go."
"Go? Where?"