“What did you do, when he didn't return?” It was neat, the way she set up an alibi without my even asking.
“What could I do? I thought he'd been detained but I was surprised he hadn't phoned me. Around midnight I took a sedative and went to my bed.”
“And Mrs. Jenks went home?”
“Of course, where else would she go at that hour?”
“Let me get this straight; while Nelson was with your husband, Jerry phoned. Then Nelson left, and Doctor Barnes left, cursing Jerry.
“Indeed not! Edward never uttered a harsh word in his life.
“Excuse me. Did Nelson and Doctor Barnes leave together?”
“No, no. Really, Mr. Lund, I find this very tiring, going over and over the same thing. Some minutes after Mr. Nelson left Edward put on his hat and coat, then went back to his office—for his bag, I imagine. A few minutes later he walked through this room, looked at the TV show for a moment, kissed me, said he wouldn't be late.”
“You were listening to TV—suppose the phone had rung in those few minutes, are you certain you would have heard it? Was the TV on loudly?”
She poked her ear again, hesitated. “I did have the set on fairly loud. I'm a trifle deaf in one ear.”
“Then you can't be certain the phone didn't ring again?” I said, feeling excited.
“Well... no.”
“You haven't even the smallest idea who the doctor meant by the 'old goat'?”
“Indeed not. Edward would never refer to a patient like that!”
I stood up. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Barnes, you've been most helpful. One more thing—was your husband's hearing aid working that night?”
“Of course. He had several and would have worn another if anything had been wrong.” She got to her feet. “Mr. Lund, you're new to the Harbor, never knew Edward. He was a tender and loving man. I've been sickly all my life, couldn't give him children. Yet he was always considerate of me, never complained, although he dearly wanted a child. Everybody spoke well of him, he was a man in a million, without an enemy in the world. He gave unceasingly of his time and money. Why, he even loaned Mrs. Jenks the money for her son's schooling, for example. I'm telling you this because there's absolutely no reason for a man like that to have been murdered, it's... it's... just impossible!” She worked her ear over for a moment. “I'll do everything in my power to help poor Jerry.”
“That's most commendable, Mrs. Barnes. Did you tell that to Chief Roberts?”
“I did. Landsakes, everybody knows Jerry Sparelous is a bit touched, but he barks, doesn't bite. I've never known him to harm a soul.”
I thanked her again and at the door I asked, “Do you think Jane Endin would have harmed Doctor Barnes?”
The pale lips formed a tight slit after she said, “Get out!” The words came with bullet force.
It was raining again and I sat in the car, slowly cleaned out my pipe and lit it. Mrs. Jenks came running out of the house, a shawl half over her big head. When she saw me, she opened the car door, pushed in. “Drive me to the drugstore! I could break your neck, upsetting Priscilla like that!”
I wanted to remark that I hadn't the slightest doubt but that those arms could break my neck. I drove off without saying a word, then I asked, “Where is the drugstore?”
“Straight ahead on Main Street. Where did you think it would be? You made her sick.”
“Sorry. But I have to ask certain questions and....”
“Why?” she shouted. “Why do you have to ask any questions? This isn't your town!”
“Unfortunately murder isn't the property of any one town. Do you want to see Jerry sent to jail?”
“If he killed Ed Barnes he ought to be hung!”
“The 'if' is why I must ask questions. Like, where were you that night, Mrs. Jenks?”
“Me?” It was a mild explosion.
“Like I said, I have to ask certain questions.”
With a movement amazingly fast for a woman her size, she suddenly put an immense sandaled foot on top of mine, banging it down on the brake, causing the car to screech to a stop. “You dirty old skunk, stop this car this second!”
She opened the door and jumped out. I wiggled my toes. She shook a fat fist at me. “If I tell my son what you just said—I hate to think what he'd do to you! And for your information, I was home all night after I left Priscilla's. Why I even sat up until three in the morning, watching out the window to see if Edward came home. Then my younger boy, Mike, got up and made me go to bed. There, you dirty-minded ferret!”
I watched her walk away in the rain, the jelly-flesh on her wide backside shaking. I drove to Hampton, letting the talk with Mrs. Barnes cook in my mind. The “evidence” against Jerry was getting downright silly, and there were at least five leads that made a damn sight more sense than Jerry's alleged motive. Nelson, whoever he was, could be the 'old goat.' Mrs. Barnes had reason enough to kill her husband, so had Jane Endin—if what Jerry said was true.
Nor could I even rule out burly Mrs. Jenks—she might have wanted her son to practice in the Harbor awfully bad.
Any lawyer could prove Mrs. Barnes was far from positive the doc didn't make two calls that night. Why, I could take the stand and disprove Roberts' “evidence” on the basis of my conversation with Mrs. Barnes. I considered Roberts a hot lead, too. As the guy in Riverside said, not much in the way of a salary or pension for a small-town cop. Not impossible Artie decided to get something going for himself, and Priscilla must certainly be the Harbor's richest widow right now. That fitted, he needed other reasons beside hushing up a town scandal for making such a sloppy case. But—it takes a certain kind of sharpie to make a realistic job of playing an older woman, and Roberts was all lardhead. Of course, you can never tell about motives—he could be framing Jerry merely to spite me. That was fantastic, but then what was my motive for being an eager-beaver in my old age?
However, I felt quite pleased with myself. Detective work was only using horse sense—shame I hadn't been more ambitious when I first got on the force. This job was far from over, though. Tracking down Nelson would be hard, I didn't even know his first name. Probably mean a lot of digging into Doc's past—I had the hunch they'd known each other years ago—and that would require spade work. The thing to do was take a crack at what I had on hand—Jane Endin.
You'd never guess Hampton was only seventeen miles from End Harbor, everything about the town cried money: solid, father-to-son folding dough. The large houses and great estates looking like something you see in the movies, the swank shops—branches of famous Fifth Avenue stores —the expensive cars, even teenagers zipping around in foreign jobs. I had to ask a couple times before I found the watch factory—a new brick building covered with vines and flowers, the windows large and clean, bright neon lights inside. I would have taken it for a small ritzy school.