“Samson?” Jim reached inside his slicker, took out a little black notebook, and glanced through it. He gave me a questioning look.
“That’s the kind of guy I figger would fall for a fancy woman like Delilah — run off with her, even,” I said. “I reckon she had different ideas. How many bullet holes?”
“Two,” Jim said, putting his notebook away. “How did you know?”
“Oil ain’t red, Jim. Besides, that handbag didn’t go with an evening dress. And there was Delilah herself.”
“Apparently she pulled the body clear,” Jim said. “Then she siphoned gas and soaked down the car. Why?”
“Probably planned to torch it as soon as her boy friend arrived and loaded up Samson’s body,” I said, studying the dregs in my mug. “That would be Vern, I reckon. Once they dumped poor old Samson in a swamp somewhere, they would have been free and clear.”
Jim nodded. “And Samson, as you call him, wouldn’t have been missed until Monday. Then everybody would think he had skipped out.” He opened the door and paused. “You know what was really in Delilah’s handbag?”
“Besides the snake? Money.”
“Still in wrappers. Samson, or whoever he was, must have been pretty high up in a bank to get to that much. Too bad we didn’t get Delilah’s boy friend, too.”
“He can’t have got far,” I said. “He left his truck on the highway shoulder about five miles above Village Mills.”
Jim’s eyebrows went up. “I’ll get to work on it. Give Mrs. Thompson my regards.”
“How can I?” I growled. “I haven’t seen you.”
“Don’t look at me,” Otis said. “I ain’t seen neither one of you. I ain’t hear nothin’, either.”
“Whatever makes you happy,” Jim said, grinning. He went out into the rain, closing the door behind him.
I wasn’t happy. I got up to leave and paid Otis for the coffee. His mouth spread into a smile, showing natural teeth that were a lot whiter than those contraptions Doc Turentine had built for me.
“I’d druther sit next to a gun than a snake,” Otis said.
I didn’t worry about Otis talking. He never gets involved in things that don’t concern him. In twenty-twenty hindsight, I could see it’s a policy I’m going to have to work on.
Cat’s-Paw
by Marjorie Q. Boyle
© 1979 by Marjorie Q. Boyle.
Safe and Free
by D. O. Bell
© 1979 by D. O. Bell.
D. O. Bell’s first story, “Trial and Error,” appeared in the November 1978 issue of EQMM. His second story, as usually happens to new writers of mysteries, is altogether different — a fresh and modern variation of a traditional ’tec theme...
The idea of murdering his partner had never risen above fantasy in Adams’ mind. But it was a recurring fantasy. He spent an unhealthy amount of time visualizing Baker falling victim to “the perfect murder.” And when the local radio reported the names of accident fatalities, Adams tuned his ear, hoping to hear the name Joseph Baker. That name, however, was never listed among the dead, and Adams’ desire to see it in the obituary column intensified.
Adams’ growing obsession with Baker’s demise was not rooted in personal animosity; it was purely a business ambition, a veritable necessity of business. Splitting up the partnership or leaving the business would not suffice.
The A & B Air Transport Service had been Baker’s idea. He had the plane and some capital and a few business connections. Adams was the other necessary ingredient — he was an experienced pilot who wanted to fly. Adams had instantly grabbed at the proposal and wasted no time borrowing the $10,000 necessary to buy in.
Besides, he needed the work. His reputation as a daredevil, an audacious flyer who too often acted on impulse, had prevented him from getting a commercial flying job on his general discharge from the Air Force. He saw the new business as sure-fire, figuring he would be comfortably well-off in five years.
Five years had passed, and despite long work weeks he was still paying off the original loan. The only variable he had failed to figure on was the fact that Baker was an easy touch. Baker handled the business end efficiently enough but like a patsy. Anybody with a well-phrased request (and almost everybody had one) could get the rates reduced, sometimes even to below cost. The lack of a large income did not disturb Baker whose needs and pleasures were simple and inexpensive. He was a nature lover and lived alone in the country. Adams starkly felt the meager income. His extravagant tastes steadily pushed him further and further into debt.
On the several occasions when Adams confronted Baker with the income problem, Baker replied, “I’m not in business to rip people off, and I won’t. If you want out, I’ll buy you out.” But the return of the $10,000 investment would leave Adams with nothing but five wasted years. It was all Adams could do to restrain his rage at this reply to his complaint.
As Adams began to feel trapped by his predicament, he soon began daydreaming of Baker’s death or disappearance. It all started one evening when Adams reread the partnership agreement. He was looking for a way to assume more control of the financial side. It was Baker who had had the agreement drafted originally, and Adams had scarcely considered the terms at the time he signed. Now they were to become as familiar to him as flight instructions.
One unusual aspect of the agreement was the provision that on the death of one partner, the other (rather than the heirs of the deceased) would inherit the deceased’s share and thus become full owner of the business. There was another unusual provision: included in the definition of death was “disappearance for more than twenty days.” Baker had explained: “Planes crash over rough terrain, and sometimes the passengers and crew are never found. This will resolve any question of that nature.”
The partners had also taken out a life insurance policy on each other in the amount of $100,000. The agent writing the insurance had agreed to write in the 20-day disappearance provision.
Adams never felt that he had planned Baker’s murder. The plan just came to him, and he was helpless to resist implementing it.
One afternoon in early winter Adams had just returned from a short flight. He got back to the office and found a note from Baker saying that he was downtown shopping for some camping equipment and would be back soon. Adams shook his head, wondering how many customer calls had been missed while Baker was out. Adams’ irritation was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.