“Is this fellow accusing me?” Bates demanded of Gentry. “I assure you that I have no intention—”
“We want facts, not speeches.” Shayne cut him off angrily. “You claim you wrote me a letter two weeks ago suggesting that I fix a frame to put Carrol’s wife into her husband’s bedroom. How was that letter addressed?”
“I protest your phrasing,” said Bates curtly. “I suggested no frame-up. I merely asked if you were capable of arranging a certain matter for my client.”
“Just who was your client?” Shayne demanded. “I understand you act as attorney for Carrol and Margrave, yet you admit conniving with Carrol’s wife to put her husband on the spot.”
“I do not feel the need of justifying myself to you,” said Bates in a voice of outraged dignity. “Perhaps you’ll explain your eagerness to have Ralph Carrol in your hotel, in the light of what happened later, and why you deliberately lured Mrs. Carrol into your bedroom.”
“Let’s skip that right now. I don’t know yet what reason anyone had for wanting Carrol in my hotel. Tell me how your first letter to me was addressed.”
“To your office, of course. You replied promptly on your own letterhead, as I am positive you are fully aware.”
Shayne shrugged and turned to Gentry. “There goes the only idea I had for the way it was worked. You want to question him about the lawsuit, Will?”
“You talked to Margrave,” Gentry said. “Go ahead with it yourself.”
“All right. What is the present status of the Vulcan suit against the partnership of Carrol and Margrave?”
“I don’t see that the question is at all relevant,” Bates told him, “and professional ethics make it impossible for me to—”
“Answer Shayne without so much legal palaver,” Gentry ordered.
“Very well. The suit is pending in the state courts,” he said evenly.
“Who will win it? What are the rights in the case?”
“I am attorney for the defense,” Bates reminded him in an icy tone. “I don’t defend cases I expect to lose.”
“Do you know that Carrol was going to give the whole thing up and admit he was in the wrong when he left the corporation?”
“Certainly not,” snapped Bates.
“Would you have known it if he had been considering such a course?” Shayne probed.
“I most certainly would. I was in his complete confidence.”
“Assuming that Carrol had such intention, though you were not aware of it, wouldn’t it have been quite a slap in the face to you and quite a financial loss to Margrave?”
“I’m not sure I thoroughly understand the question,” Bates said.
“Put it this way. If Carrol had been planning to throw in the sponge with Vulcan out of court, it would have been a legal defeat for you, and would have effectually dissolved the partnership and halted the manufacture of the plastic, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes. It would have had that effect,” the lawyer conceded. “But I don’t see—”
“But now that Carrol is dead the situation is changed,” Shayne interrupted. “By legal maneuvers, you can probably avoid a final decision for years and eventually attain some sort of compromise. In the meantime, the surviving partner can continue to market the disputed product at a nice profit. Isn’t that also true?”
“Quite possibly. I confess I haven’t given much thought to the legal situation resulting from Ralph Carrol’s death.”
“From information we have,” Shayne said, “it looks very much as though Margrave knew that Carrol was on the verge of making this discovery while he was still in the Vulcan laboratories, and put pressure on him to keep it a secret and get out so they could make a profit on it together. Would you like to comment on that?”
“No. Except to warn you that it is a libelous statement and best not repeated.”
“Do you know that Margrave and Nora Carrol were quite friendly before she married Carrol?”
“I know they were acquainted. It was common knowledge.”
“Intimately acquainted?” Shayne persisted.
“Really, sir,” the lawyer protested in a shocked tone. “This is not a matter I care to discuss further.”
“Why not?”
“I do not see that it could have any possible bearing on Ralph Carrol’s death.”
“From where I sit,” said Shayne patiently, “it looks as though it might be very important. There were anonymous letters, I believe, accusing Mrs. Carrol of having been intimate with Carrol’s partner.”
Bates clamped his lips together and did not reply.
“Who wrote those letters?” Shayne demanded.
“Authorship was not established. They were definitely scurrilous and not worthy of attention.”
“But they led, indirectly, to the divorce Carrol was contemplating when he was killed.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Bates parried.
“Mrs. Carrol admitted it herself last night,” Shayne told him. “She said her husband became suspicious of her after receiving the letters, and began watching her. This made her angry, and drove her to drink too much on a certain week-end party when she committed an indiscretion with a certain Ted Granger, which Carrol was using as evidence to divorce her without alimony. Isn’t that true?”
“It is true that Carrol was basing his divorce action on her affair with young Granger,” said Bates cautiously. “How much the anonymous letters contributed to that affair is anyone’s question. Ted has been quite gentlemanly about the unfortunate episode, and openly admitted everything that happened was entirely his fault. He has publicly stated his desire, and his determination, to marry Nora Carrol, if and when the divorce was granted.”
“And she was just as determined to hang on to Carrol,” Shayne stated. “How many people knew of her plan to come down here and compromise her husband?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. It hardly seems a subject she would discuss with many people.” The Wilmington lawyer’s tone was sharp with disgust.
“Margrave?” the redhead demanded.
“I would think not. Not to my knowledge, at least.”
“Are you certain Margrave didn’t know you planned to retain Michael Shayne for the scheme?”
“I can’t say I’m certain. It would be a complete surprise, however, to learn that Mr. Margrave knew anything about it.”
“How about Ted Granger?” Shayne probed. “Don’t you suppose she told him what she planned?”
Attorney Bates hesitated and glared at the redhead with cold, angry eyes. “Any conjecture I might make on that score would not be evidence.”
“You’re not on the witness stand,” Shayne reminded him. “Have you reason to think she confided in Granger?”
Bates shifted his position slightly, then said, “From my slight knowledge of the — ah — alleged scandal, I would say there is a possibility she did. Granger flew down with me from Wilmington. He feels extremely bad about the whole affair, and he confided to me that he came to give Mrs. Carrol what comfort he could. He talked rather excitedly and in a roundabout way, but now that I think back over the conversation, I believe that perhaps he did mention Nora’s plan to see Ralph last night. He — ah — was most anxious to have me promise that I would not volunteer the information to the police; and was greatly upset when I related the gist of your call last night, and explained that the decision did not lie in my hands. All this serves to give the inference that he was aware of Nora’s plan,” he pointed out in his dryly legalistic manner, “but I don’t understand how that fact can have any importance.”
Shayne had been standing over the lawyer. He sat down abruptly and said, “Perhaps it doesn’t matter,” wearily. “But right now I’m going along with the theory that Carrol was killed by someone who knew exactly what Nora planned to do. The motive probably was to prevent the reconciliation taking place and, quite possibly, the timing arranged to put Nora on the spot and frame her for the murder.”