Mrs. Tomlinson looked up into the face of the tall man who stood before the couch.
In a very small voice, she said, “Thank you.”
* * * *
6
Arthur Patterson was a man in his middle thirties who had recently shaved off his mustache. Neither Carella nor Hawes knew that Patterson had performed the mustachectomy only two days before, but had they been alert detectives they would have noticed that Patterson touched the area over his, upper lip rather frequently. The area looked very much like the stretch of skin above any man’s upper lip, but it didn’t feel that way to Patterson. To Patterson, the tiny stretch of skin felt very large and very naked. He kept touching the area to reassure himself that it wasn’t getting any larger or any more naked. He didn’t feel at all like himself, sitting there and discussing Margaret Irene Thayer with two men from the police department. If he stared down the sides of his nose, he could see his upper lip protruding and swollen and nude. He felt as if he looked very silly, and he was sure the detectives were smiling at his nakedness. He touched the skin above his mouth again, and then hastily withdrew his hand.
“Yes,” he said, “Irene Thayer came to me to see about a divorce.”
“Had you ever handled any legal matters for her before, Mr. Patterson?” Carella asked.
“I prepared a will. That was all.”
“You prepared a will for Irene Thayer?”
“For both of them actually. The usual thing, you know.”
“What usual thing, Mr. Patterson?”
“Oh, you know. ‘I direct that all my debts and funeral expenses be paid as soon after my death as may be practicable. All the rest, residue and remainder of my estate, whether real or personal, and wherever situate, I give, devise and bequeath to my wife.’ That sort of thing.”
“Then in the event of Michael Thayer’s death, Irene Thayer would have inherited his entire estate?”
“Yes, that’s right. And the reverse was, of course, also true.”
“How do you mean?”
“In the event that Michael Thayer survived his wife, well, anything she owned would go to him. That was one of the will’s provisions.”
“I see,” Carella said. He paused, Arthur Patterson touched his missing mustache. Did she own anything?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem likely. She seemed concerned about the expense of getting a divorce.”
“She told you this?”
“Yes,” Patterson shrugged. “I was in a peculiar position here, you understand. It was Thayer who first came to me about drawing the will. And now I was handling a divorce proceeding for his wife. It was an odd feeling.”
“You mean, you felt as if you were really Michael Thayer’s lawyer?”
“Well, not exactly. But… let’s put it this way… I felt as if I were attorney for the Thayer family, do you know what I mean? And not for Irene Thayer alone.”
“But she nonetheless came to you?”
“Yes.”
“And said she wanted a divorce.”
“Yes. She was going to Reno next month.”
“In spite of the expense involved?”
“Well, that was a serious consideration. She initially came to me to find out what the Alabama divorce laws were. She had heard it was good jurisdiction. But I advised her against an Alabama divorce.”
“Why?”
“Well, they’ve been getting a little rough down there. In many cases, if it appears that a couple came to the jurisdiction only to get a divorce and not to establish bona-fide residency, the state will void the divorce of its own volition. I didn’t think she wanted to risk that. I suggested Mexico to her, where we can get a divorce ruling in twenty-four hours, but she didn’t like the idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure. A Mexican divorce is as good as any you can get. But the layman has the mistaken impression that Mexican divorces aren’t legal or are easy to upset. Anyway, she didn’t go for the idea. So, naturally, I suggested Nevada. Are you familiar with the Nevada divorce laws?”
“No,” Carella said.
“Well, they require a six-weeks’ residency in the state, and the grounds range from… well, adultery, impotence, desertion, nonsupport, mental cruelty, physical cruelty, habitual drunkenness… I could go on, but that’ll give you an idea.”
“On what grounds was she suing for divorce?”
“Mental cruelty.”
“Not adultery?”
“No.” Patterson paused. “She wouldn’t have had to go all the way to Reno if she were claiming adultery, would she? I mean… after all…” He hesitated again. “I don’t know how much of this I should discuss with you. You see, I did suggest the possibility of she and her husband seeing a marriage counselor, but she wasn’t at all interested in that.”
“She wanted a divorce.”
“Yes, she was adamant about it.” Patterson stroked his lip, seemed to be deciding whether or not he should reveal all the information he had, and finally sighed and said, “There was another man involved, you see.”
“That would seem obvious, wouldn’t it, Mr. Patterson?” Hawes said. “They were found dead together.”
Patterson stared at Hawes, and then activated a voice he usually reserved for the courtroom. “The fact that they were found dead together needn’t indicate they were planning a future life together. Mr. Barlow… I believe that was his name… ?”
“Yes, Mr. Barlow, that’s right.”
“Mr. Barlow may not even have been the man she intended marrying.”
“Irene’s mother seems to think he was.”
“Well, perhaps you have information I do not have.”
“Irene never told you the man’s name?”
“No. She simply said she was in love with someone and wanted a divorce as quickly as possible so that she could marry him.”
“She definitely said that?”
“Yes.” Patterson dropped his courtroom voice and assumed the tones of a friendly country lawyer dispensing philosophy around a cracker barrel. “It’s been my experience, however, that many women… and men, too… who are contemplating divorce aren’t always sure why they want the divorce. That is, Irene Thayer may have thought she was in love with this Barlow person and used that as reason for escaping from a situation that was intolerable to her.”
“Did she say it was intolerable?” Hawes asked.
“She indicated that living with Michael Thayer was something of a trial, yes.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t say.”
“How did Mr. Thayer feel about the divorce?” Carella asked.
“I did not discuss it with him.”
“Why not?”