He swung a chair over in front of her and sat down. "A little," he said and reluctantly brought his mind back to his problems. He told her first about Dan Spencer, the things he knew, the things that had been said.
"Did the police accept your story?" he asked as his thoughts moved on.
"About finding Grayson? Why—yes, I think so."
"What about Webb?"
"He told them he had a date, just like I did."
"Did he say why? Did he tell Zumeta about the hundred and twenty thousand?"
"Yes, but he had to explain it twice before Zumeta understood what he meant."
Jeff nodded, remembering that when he had last seen the Segumal man, there had been no knowledge of either Webb or the money that Grayson had raised and was ready to deliver through Harry Baker.
"That'll give Zumeta something else to think about," he said. Then, his mind moving back, he again considered Diana Grayson and Dudley Fiske. He asked if either of them was questioned at headquarters.
"Both/' Karen said.
"What did you think of them?"
"In what way?" she said, her incipient frown telling him lie had not made his point clear.
He spoke of his first call at the Grayson house and the thoughts that had come to him then.
"That's an attractive woman," he said. "She looks and talks as if she had been brought up to expect the good things in life. She looks as if she might have been a lot of fun when she was younger, but she got a bad deal—with an alcoholic for a first husband, and she practically took Grayson on the rebound. The way I get it, he played up to her until he got his hands on what money she had. Since then it's been pretty grim for her."
He tried to explain his first impression of Fiske. "Until recently he'd been living with a myth. As a kid, he got the idea Grayson was the greatest guy in the world, and because Fiske never was a heavyweight, the disillusionment was a long time coming. He didn't want to let go of the idea he had created, because it was all he had left at the time. His one claim to importance was that he had been important to a man who had the importance he lacked. Or am I getting a little involved?"
"No.** She shook her head. "I know exactly what you mean."
"He was selling printing—not too well, he says—and it was a great day when Grayson sent for him, a rejuvenation he was eager to have, a new start. Then, as time went on, the gloss wore off his idol. He saw what was happening to him and to Diana. Two unhappy people in the same house, bearing the same cross, understanding a mutual
ONE MESTUTE PAST EIGHT
problem. I think, maybe without knowing it, they finally realized they were in love.
"Fiske was a different man this evening. I got the idea he had found some new strength and purpose, maybe through the woman. You could tell they were close to each other. She said they were going back to the States together, and I wondered—I mean, you're a woman and if you watched them down at Segurnal maybe you'd have some idea about how they felt toward each other .**
"I think you're right." Karen moistened her lips and her eyes were a serious blue beneath the graceful brows. "He could hardly keep his eyes off her, and when she looked at him her glance seemed brighter. She seemed confident and assured and pleased with what she saw. It was the sort of look that women have when they are proud of a man and sure of his affection/' She paused, her voice suddenly hushed. "Do you think Fiske-"
"I don't know," Jeff said, knowing what she meant. "But he could have, all right. It's a long lane etcetera, etcetera. They knew about the money and maybe old Dudley made up his mind he'd had too much from Grayson."
He tried to speculate beyond this but nothing came, and he saw that Karen had picked up her bag. When she opened it she brought out what looked like a gold thimble and offered it to him,
"This is why I came," she said. "I didn't tell the police I found it"
JWhat is it?" Jeff asked.
*I don't know. I thought you might/'
She went on to tell how she had seen it under Grayson's desk and Jeff turned it over in his fingers, scowling intently and remembering the welts on his stepbrother's face. When a possibility occurred to him he voiced it.
"It could have come from a cane," he said quietly. "It seems a little small but—"
He stopped abruptly, head swiveling, as a soft knock came at the door. When he heard the sound of a key he was reassured, and a moment later Julio Cordovez slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.
"Ah~h," he said, his bright eyes assessing the situation in a glance. "All is well/'
"So far," Jeff said. "Sit down and tell us what the police are doing."
"For one thing/' Cordovez said, "they are looking for you. You were seen to enter the Grayson building this afternoon/'
"Yeah/* Jeff said and explained what he had learned from Carl Webb. He again displayed the two scabs on his knuckles. "And once they see these 111 be in it up to my neck."
"I agree/' Cordovez said. "It is not a pleasant situation. We must arrive at some solution and quickly."
Jeff gave him the thimble, waited until the detective had a chance to inspect it and then explained where Karen had found it.
"What do you think?"
Cordovez took his time, his black eyes busy and his brows bunched. "You have a thought perhaps?"
"I think it might have come from the bottom of a cane/*
"Considering the type of wound on Grayson's face I can agree to this."
"Who would have a cane?"
Again Cordovez took his time. When he spoke he corroborated the thought in Jeff's mind.
"Luis Miranda would have a cane/' he said, his inflection suggesting he was not happy about the admission.
"What about the autopsy?"
"It has not been completed. The doctor will not say at this time whether he believes the wounds sufficient to cause death." He passed the thimble back to Jeff. "What do you propose to do?"
ONE MINUTE PAST EIGHT
Tm going to find out if this fits any of Miranda's canes."
Cordovez's brows climbed and doubt touched his glance.
"How will this be done?"
"I'll have to gamble that Mrs. Miranda may co-operate."
"Oh?"
"She was going away with my stepbrother/ 3 Jeff said. "The airplane tickets prove that much. Furthermore I don't think she was going just for the ride. She could scrape up enough money for a ticket any time she wanted to. She could have left before, but I don't think she wanted to give up what she had until she found some sort of substitute."
He leaned forward and said: "We're not going to get anywhere without making some assumptions, so I'm making one. I'm ready to assume that Muriel Miranda was in love with my stepbrother, or thought she was, and either way is good enough."
He digressed to explain how the woman had waited in her car that morning. He spoke of her interest in the amount of Grayson's stock inheritance and its potential value.
"So if she was in love and ready to take what Grayson could offer, she's going to be damned well crashed by Ms death. With him gone she's still stuck with Miranda. She's lost her man, and I have to go along with the idea that she will want to get even with the one who killed him."
"Even if this is her husband?"
"All the more so, if she hates him. You don't have to be very vindictive to want to punish the person who kills someone you love. It's a natural reaction. If I'm right I think shell be glad to co-operate, to do whatever she has to do to punish the one who robbed her of her lover and her future."
He was watching Karen as he finished, some part of his mind recognizing again how lovely she was even as he saw the somber glints in her dark-blue eyes. She nodded
her head slightly and a tiny frown marred the smoothness o£ her brow.