«I told you everything,» she said.
«Just one point. Remember, he threw the red pen away when he was finished. The red pen you gave him.»
«Yes, he did. I never picked it up. Do you need it? I doubt that we could possibly—»
«No, I don’t need it. But when you brought it to him, he was sitting there with another pen, a pen that had gone dry. It was the second pen to have gone dry, and you were bringing him a third one.»
«Yes.» She had the look of one who was expecting to become confused at any minute.
«All right. Now the question is: What did he do with the second pen when you brought him the third? Did he throw it away, or put it down in front of him, or what?»
«Oh, gee, how do you remember? Well, he didn’t throw it. He saw me coming—Oh, I know, he put it in his pocket.»
I seized her hand and squeezed it as hard as I could. «Are you sure?»
She nodded her head vigorously, looking pleased that I seemed to be pleased. «I remember now because he gave me the feeling that he was afraid I would take the pen from him and he was putting it away quickly. In fact, I said, ‘I don’t want your pen, Mr. Devore. I’m bringing you a new one.’ Yes, I remember.»
«Yes,» I said, «his wife told me he always keeps his dry pens. It was the throwing away of the red one that was unusual.»
I was trying to keep from prancing and Nellie said, «Is that all you want to know?»
«Yes. It’s all I need. Thank you so much.» I had the impulse to kiss her, but I thought of the upward stretching that would be required to place my lips on hers and I thought, the hell with it.
3 SARAH VOSKOVEK 10:50 A.M.
Next, it was back to Sarah.
She’d had scarcely half an hour, but if she didn’t have the paper yet, I’d wait till she did.
I went through the door rather quickly. Ginger looked up, startled; then recognized me, and waved me inward with a smile.
Sarah was on the phone. She looked up and twiddled her fingers at me, but stayed on the phone, talking rapidly, then listening.
I was prepared to wait, but she pushed a Xeroxed list across the desk at me.
«Already?» I mouthed, without making a sound.
She nodded and turned away so that she might continue the conversation without disturbance.
I picked up the paper with a certain quickening of the heart beat. If it didn’t work out correctly, then I might be right even so, but less certainly, and I might not have the nerve to try to spring the trap.
I went over the list of clothing and trivia (good God, «one loose pill, apparently aspirin») quickly.
I didn’t see it—went over it more carefully again—and again. It wasn’t there.
I took a deep breath. (I must have been holding it and half asphyxiating myself.) Then I just sat there and thought.
It all worked out, but there was nothing absolutely compelling. It was all circumstantial and flimsy, and unless I could demonstrate something firm, no one would believe it.
And to demonstrate something—
Sarah was off the phone and I hadn’t noticed.
She said, «Darius!» and I could tell by listening backward (if you know what I mean) that it was the second time she had said it.
I looked up. «I’m sorry.»
«Is that what you wanted? All I had to do was ask and they sent it right over. Is that okay?»
«More than okay. I know who killed Giles.»
I was sure she would ask who, but she didn’t. She said solemnly, «Are you sure you’re right?»
«I’m sure, but I don’t think I can make anyone else sure without something else. Listen, was Marsogliani in when you called?»
«He’s in, but he’s not in his office. That’s why I managed to get the list so quickly. This is one of his mornings in Security headquarters in the basement.»
I thought a while. Then I said, «What is your opinion of Marsogliani?»
«As a security chief?»
«Yes.»
«He’s been here ten years as far as I know and he’s given satisfaction.»
«What about honesty?»
«What do you mean, honesty?»
«Is he a criminal? Might he be involved in a drug racket?»
She stared at me as though I were crazy. «He? Never.»
«That’s just an impression, of course.»
«Even so. He’d have to be the world’s best actor to be that dirty and give me the impression of being so clean.»
«How long have you known him?»
«Since I’ve been here. Nearly seven years.»
«And it is your personal and confirmed opinion that he’s honest.»
«Ab-so-lutely,» she said, separating the syllables for emphasis.
«Then I’ll have to take the chance. Look, Sarah, is Room 1511, Giles’s room, still empty?»
She turned to the phone again. After a while she said, «Mr. Devore had it till today and his publisher had guaranteed it. It was no loss to leave it unrented till now, but there will be someone coming in, possibly as early as three p.m. today.»
I looked at my watch. It was after eleven.
I said, «I’ll have time, I think. I’ll have to see Marsogliani.»
«I’ll try to get him up here, but when he’s in the basement offices, he—»
«That’s not necessary. I would rather go down and surprise him. Could you guide me down there?»
She sighed. «In the sense that I know the way, Darius, I could. But I’ve got to stay at the phone till the advertising campaign is settled. Please, I’ll do my best to have him come up here.»
«No. I don’t want to get you involved. Can someone else guide me there?»
She rose and went into the outer office, then returned and said, «Ginger will take you. You’ll be careful, Darius?»
«Oh, I’ll be careful, Sarah. What I need is luck.»
Automatically, I put my hand to the top of my head. Yes, it still hurt. And I thought: I can’t take another one just yet. It would very likely kill me.
She must have read my thoughts, for her face twisted and she said, «You’re going to prove how tall you are again, aren’t you?»
I stopped dead for a minute. «No,» I said. «I know how tall I am. I am plenty feet enough inches high. What I hope I’m going to prove is how smart I am.» And how much, I added to myself, a murderer I am.
4 ANTHONY MARSOGLIANI 11:20 A.M.
Ginger took me to the basement, then through a maze of corridors, to a glass door that was a sudden vision of light and hotel-modern furniture in the dull-ivory, pipe-ceilinged surroundings. My heart bounded when I saw Marsogliani through the door, with his vest and his half-burnt cigar. He was talking into the telephone.
I said, «Thank you, Ginger.»
She smiled and left—rather hurriedly, I felt. Perhaps she expected a Homeric explosion inside the office and didn’t want to be there when it took place.
The door wasn’t locked (good!) and I walked in.
Marsogliani looked up and I said, «It’s all right. I’ll wait. I’m Darius Just.»
He looked slightly startled at first, and then heavily annoyed. «I know who you are,» he growled, «but, as you see, I’m busy.»
«I’ll wait.»
«I expect I’ll stay busy.»
I said, «All I need is half an hour. I’d rather not get mixed up with the police.»
He did not react to that except to shoot me a glance from under lowered eyelids, but he didn’t order me out. He said to the person on the phone. «Well, look, get back to me on that later.»
He hung up, turned to me, and said, «What do you want and make it fast.»