The suddenness of the blow sent me sprawling. I struggled in a swirling fog to keep my feet and then the world came down on me and I felt myself slipping into a bottomless pit.
The sunlight burned into my eyes, making my head pound faster. “The blinds,” I whispered, “Please close the blinds.” Instead I felt a moist cloth fall over my eyes and the sunlight disappeared. I sighed deeply, relaxing. In another moment I was asleep.
When I awoke again the sun had disappeared and a cool soothing breeze drifted in from the open window. My head felt thick and full of mush and when I ran my hand over my head I felt a good-sized knot. Otherwise I seemed to be all right. Then I ventured to look about me. With a start I recognized a hospital room. “What the...?” I exclaimed. Then a gentle hand fell over my mouth. “Hush,” Anita whispered.
“What happened? What am I doing here?” I insisted.
“As Clyde said, someone cold-cocked you,” she announced.
“Clyde!” Now I remembered. “The picture! What happened? Who hit me? What happened to the picture?”
“Not so fast, Matt. One question at a time. Someone hit you and knocked you out after you left the studio. I’m afraid he took the picture, Matt. But we still have the negative and you can make Clyde another print when you get on your feet.”
“But the license number, Anita! He’ll have to trace that!”
“Hush, Matt. Don’t get so excited. I remembered the license number. Clyde’s already checked it out. You’ve been here almost twenty-four hours and a lot has happened since last night.”
“But what’s happened? Who hit me?”
“I think Clyde will have to tell you that, Matt. He’ll be here in a few minutes. Now lie back and relax.”
I did as she asked and a few minutes later Clyde walked in the door. I started involuntarily when I saw him, causing my head to begin throbbing painfully. Clyde looked tired and beaten. His face had gone an ashen gray and the deep lines around his mouth and eyes looked deeper than they had when I’d last seen him.
“Hello, Matt. Good to see you’re going to make it. You had us all worried there for a while.”
His voice sounded as dispirited as he looked. I began to dread what I knew he must be going to tell me.
“Did you see who struck you down, Matt?” he asked suddenly.
“No. Not a thing. I was in a hurry to get to your office. The next thing I knew the world came down on my head.”
Clyde nodded. “Yes. I thought you probably hadn’t. I think he followed you from the studio and when you got past the business district he let you have it. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“Who was it, Clyde?”
“Cal Lewis, Matt. I know it’s a shock. Kind of hits me where it hurts. But everything hangs together pretty well.”
“But Cal? I don’t get it?”
“Guess I’d better tell you the whole story. One of the first things I did yesterday was start getting hold of all the bus drivers who made a run into town the past few days and had them in to look at the body. This morning I finally reached the last one, Tim Anderson, who drove the seven-thirty bus in and out of here on Monday morning. The one that 4-H Club took out of here on that trip they won to the capitol. He recognized her right away. She came in with him out of Akron. Seems she struck up a conversation with him which is how he remembered her. He also remembered something of the conversation. According to him she said this was her first visit here. Said she was going to visit her brother, Cal Lewis, one of the deputy sheriffs.”
“So that’s why!” I broke in. “That’s why he made that funny remark out there at the farm about not really knowing her.”
“Anyway, Matt, that sort of broke it when the bus driver gave his statement. I confronted Cal with it and he admitted she was his sister.”
“What about the killing?”
“Says he didn’t kill her. Claims he didn’t even know she was in town. Says he hasn’t seen her for about two years. The last time soon after she went to Akron to live and he went up to see her.”
“But if he didn’t kill her why didn’t he identify her?”
“He claims she was no good. Said she must have been up to something down here and he felt whoever killed her probably had a good reason. He thought if he kept quiet we’d connect her with whoever she came here to see but if he admitted knowing her we’d suspect him.”
“Sounds kind of fishy to me, Clyde. Why didn’t he just say he was ashamed to admit she was his sister. That’d make more sense.”
“I thought so, too. Anyway he had the opportunity to kill her. He took Monday off. Left town the night before. He claims he went to see a girl of his in the capitol. But won’t give her name or anything else to back up his story. Says he’s going to keep her out of this even if it makes it bad for him.”
“I never knew Cal had a girl.”
“Neither did anyone else around here. I figure he went to the capitol, hired that car, it came from a rental agency in the capitol, by the way, drove back here, picked up Thelma Gaskins at the bus station and then drove out to the Banning farm. The only thing that bothers me is his reason for killing her.
“I also got a report from the FBI in Washington. Her prints were on file. She’s been in and out of trouble since 1943. Started hanging around the soldiers from Camp Pickett during the war. Apparently that started her off. Since then she’s been in trouble all over the country.”
“Any proof that Cal rented the car?”
“I sent Phil Masters down there this afternoon with a picture of Cal. When he gets back I figure I’ll have it all sewed up.”
“Sure looks that way. But Cal! Just doesn’t seem possible. I suppose he’s the one who gave me this?” I gingerly touched the knot on my head.
“He denies that, too, Matt. But Anita heard you tell Cal as you left that you thought you’d found something. When you didn’t come right back and didn’t call she got worried and called me. So I went looking for you. But she’d tried to find Cal before she called me and he wasn’t around. By the time I got down to the studio Cal had turned up. Claimed he was checking out a noise he heard in the alley that runs beside the hardware store.”
They wouldn’t let me out of the hospital until the next morning. I slept fitfully that night. My head throbbed most of the time and every time I thought about Cal it throbbed even more.
Anita came to the hospital early the next morning. She’d driven my station wagon in and I didn’t object when she insisted on driving me home. I didn’t really feel up to leaving the hospital but I was anxious to get back to work. Anita started the car and then turned to me before pulling out of the parking lot.
“Clyde called early this morning. He’d like to talk with you again. Do you feel up to it?”
I didn’t really but I didn’t want to admit it. I had a feeling Anita was about ready to take me back inside that hospital as soon as I gave her the slightest hint that I felt like going back to bed.
Clyde looked even grimmer this morning, if that were possible.
“The man who rented out that car says it wasn’t Cal, Matt. Says the man who rented it gave the name of Henry C. Marshall and showed some credit cards in that name. Said he looked to be in his early forties or late thirties, was tall, well-built, and his hair was receding slightly. And that certainly doesn’t fit Cal. Cal’s tall and skinny and he couldn’t make that shock of red hair of his look receding if he tried. Also the man who took out that car had brown hair.”
“Hum.” I thought a minute. “That description sounds more like Charles Henry Lane than Cal.”
“I hope you’re kidding, Matt.”
“I am. Just thought of him because his was the last portrait I took. No. Maybe I’m not kidding. Lane was out of town, too, that day. Or said he was. He was telling me Wednesday when I took his picture. Telling me what a terrible thing this was to come home to. We were talking about the murder. Matter of fact I told him about it. He hadn’t heard about it yet.”