Edgren seemed satisfied. If Mantle was, I couldn’t be sure.
We drove back to the other house, where they were all getting quite sociable, Mom telling Knight and Bledsoe “how messy his brains looked, scattered all over the ground,” the nurse sitting with Jill, and York in the hall talking on the phone. “Nothing.” Edgren reported to Knight. “So far, anyway,” Mantle said, slightly amending the report. But it was York who took charge of the conversation when he came out, first dropping a bill in Mom’s lap and thanking her for letting him use the phone.
“That was Mr. Morgan I was talking to,” he explained. “Russ Morgan, I mean, president of Trans-U.S.&C. He’s cleared it all up, I think, in regard to the money — as far as Jill is concerned. He’s given it to her — in appreciation for what she’s done. I suggested the idea to him, and he didn’t even let me finish. ‘She’s got it coming,’ he kept saying. ‘Oh, brother, has she.’ It’s hers if it’s ever found — and if it’s not found, she’ll still be nicely rewarded. That’s one thing about Mr. Morgan. He always does it big. So... that winds, it up, I think. Jill can’t very well be held for stealing money that’s already hers.”
That got a blank stare.
“Well?” he asked Knight.
“She’s not charged, Mr. York.”
“OK — but now she can’t be.”
“Listen, anyone can be!”
“Easy does it.”
That was Bledsoe who always wanted to shade things a little bit, “so we don’t meet these issues head-on.”
No one mentioned holding us, and Knight got up. “They should do the autopsy tomorrow,” he said, “so we’ll be holding the inquest Tuesday. All three of you — Mr. Howell, Mrs. Howell, and Miss Kreeger — will be called as witnesses, so please make yourselves available to testify.” He put on his coat and started for the door. “We ready?” asked York, turning to Jill.
“I guess so,” she told him, half turning to me.
“I’m taking her in,” I said, reaching under her knees, as I had quite a few times, putting the other arm around her and lifting her up.
“Well?” she smiled at York. “I don’t really have much choice. I have to do what Dave says.”
“All right,” he said rather grumpily.
Knight nodded to everyone, then went out the front door, got in his car, and drove off. “We’ll let you know,” said Edgren, and he and Mantle left. Bledsoe looked at his watch, gave Jill a little pat, nodded to Mom, and left. The nurse and York left. I turned to Mom and said: “Be back,” but whether she heard me or not, I didn’t know, as she didn’t look at me.
I carried Jill to the door and she opened it. When we were out, she pushed it shut. I carried her to my car which was parked beside the house. I opened the door and helped her climb in.
“Well?” she asked when we’d turned onto route 60, headed for town. “Was I all right?”
“Perfect,” I answered. “I was relieved that you left out what was said in the dark, that stuff you thought meant that she meant Shaw should kill you. I don’t think she did, but—”
“I don’t think it — I know it. Don’t you know why I left it out?”
“All right, why did you?”
“It was because of you. She’s your mother, and I—”
“Yes? You what?” I asked as she stopped suddenly.
“Don’t you know?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then it’s not up to me to tell you.”
“Who’s it up to, then?”
She didn’t answer, but hooked her hand in my arm and whispered: “Are we getting somewhere together or not?”
“So far as I’m concerned, we are.”
“Then a woman sticks by her guy whether she likes his mother or not. I couldn’t talk against her.”
“Jill, I love you.”
“And I love you.”
She leaned back, still hanging onto my arm.
We got to the hospital which looks out on the Muskingum but which also commands a view of the Ohio. I parked the car, but when I reached in for her legs to lift her out, she motioned me off and climbed out of the car herself. She caught my arm, limping a little, but turned to the terrace above the river, took a few steps, and stood there looking at it. Then, chugging through the twilight, we heard an engine laboring. There was the top of a tow, moving up the Ohio, its red light shining at us. It’s always a beautiful sight. We stood hand-in-hand looking at it. Then suddenly, in a somewhat different manner, she asked me: “Dave, did York say that money is mine?”
“That’s right, if it’s ever found. If it’s not found, you’re to get a reward anyway. So, I just fell in love with an heiress.”
“Dave, it’s going to be found.”
“Listen, Jill, don’t hold your breath. If you ask me, that money’s in the Muskingum right now, soaking up water to feed the fishes.”
“If you ask me, it’s not.”
She looked up at me with a new glitter in her eye. “That woman, that Mom character, knows where it is and means to keep it. Which mightn’t have meant so much to me so long as it was Russ Morgan’s. I’d want him to get it back, but mightn’t do much about it. Now, though, I intend to do plenty. It’s mine and I’m going to get it. I don’t know how yet, but I know who knows where it is.”
“Mom? How would she know where it is?”
“She knows where she put it, doesn’t she?”
“Listen, how could she have put it anywhere?”
“By picking it up, throwing it in the boat, and rowing off with it. Dave, it’s what that officer thought that was so odd — that Shaw would stand around on that island with me and not say a word about its being gone. And they were right. Dave, he must have had it. He must still have had it slung on his shoulder all the time. And she couldn’t wait to get out there. That means she took it, unstrapped it from his shoulder and went downriver with it. Or upriver. Or crossriver. Somewhere. Could be, it’s on the island. The police didn’t search there.”
“I told them they could. It’s my property. It was part of the farm I bought.”
“Well, they didn’t.”
What that had to do with it, or with anything, I didn’t know, but we kept talking about it, and her eyes kept squinching up. Then: “Dave, since Shaw didn’t kill me — OK, I could try to forget what she meant because I’m in love with her son. But when it’s a hundred thousand dollars, I don’t forget anything. She’s got it, and I mean to have it. If that puts her in Marysville prison, that’s how it has to be. I love you, but if you think I’m giving that money up, I don’t love you that much.”
“OK, then, now I know.”
“I hate to say it, but—”
“You don’t love me that much.”
Suddenly tears were on her cheeks, glittering under the lights. I said, “Suppose it turns out opposite? Suppose she doesn’t have it? Suppose it’s never found?”
“It’s going to be!”
“So you say.”
“I want to go inside.”
9
I put the car out back and went in the front door. The living room was just as it had been, but Mom was nowhere in sight. I called, but she didn’t answer. I tapped on the door of her room — that is, what had been the dining room. When there was still no answer, I opened the door and went in. By then it was nearly 7:00, almost dark, so I wasn’t sure at first whether she was in there or not. Then I made her out, lying on the bed, still in the same dress, the blanket half pulled over her, face up, staring at nothing. I whispered: “What’s the big idea, not answering when I call?”
Still nothing.
“Hey!”
Still nothing.