She knew he was beyond the reach of any word, even if she could have spoken. She couldn't speak, or cry out— couldn't fight his bulk and strength. She was helpless.
"One blow for Christy," he said. "Took one moment.-4t did surprise me. Took longer for Miss McCauley."
The sash was coming around her neck but Dorothy did not even feel it. Her heart was sinking in such horror and such sorrow. "Five minutes," Dick said, "which is a long time. I wanted to be sure. And I couldn't leave a mark... It won't be so long for you. The time you take to die in the closet," he said, "I can use to change my coat."
The sash tightened. His one hand had two ends of it at the back of her neck and were twisting. When the sash was effectively choking off her breath and speech he used both hands to make the knot.
"I'll rush Nan out of here," he told her. He was smiling confidently. "Nobody will find you, for quite some time. We'll be far away. Honeymoons are spent in secret places. Take time to find us. They won't imagine. If you are just bold enough—Did you know this. Dotty? You are practically invisible. You can do whatever you want."
Now he had her by the waist in one hard arm, lifting her. The other hand was fixing the sash somewhere high.
He finished the task. He looked into her eyes. "I wish I had known" he said a httle regretfully. "I wish I'd paid at-
tention." His voice went into exasperation. "I never bothered about the color of people's eyes."
Then he let go at her waist and her weight came down. Her head went tight and then light. She writhed. She vaguely knew he was fixing an old suitcase near her feet, but she lost the abihty to hear or to see . . .
Dick closed the closet door.
Into the phone downstairs Johnny said, "Emilyl Emilyr
"Warrant out for him," Grimes was barking on the far end of the line. "Sherifi's oflfice. Copeland ought to be there, by now. Listen, we haven't got him, Johnny. We haven't absolutely got the proof."
"What have you got?" Johnny gasped.
"Got his rented car near the Schmidt Memorial, right time. Got a man with a hat on, in the room. Got a redheaded woman saw the man with the hat come out. But she cUdn't see the face. Can't identify. Don't you admit that, mind."
Johnny said, "Emily!" once more, and then, although he made no further sound, he thought ttiat he was cursing in a loud voice.
Grimes said, "Wait for the law. Then try to rattle him. Get an admission. Trick him, if you can."
Johnny hung up. Then, he was in tlie hall and he saw Copeland there, with Marshall and Bart Bartee.
Copeland said, "I took a cab. Deputy's slow. Close behind me, though. I hope."
Johnny said, "Where—?"
Bart Bartee answered, divining the real question. "Gone up to change. Nan and Dorothy, too. He's upstairs."
Johnny thought he was raging, shouting. Actually he made no sound with his mouth but liis feet pounded on the Bartee's stairs.
The three men followed after, exchanging panted bits of information.
Johmiy banged open Nan's door. She was in her slip, alone. She squealed, "Johnee^ ... /"
"Where is Dick Bartee?"
"You stopl" she wailed. "You leave us alonel"
"Where is he?"
"I won't tell you." She stamped her foot—a child in temper.
Johnny turned and went down the hall slamming doors )pen. A place of deep shelves, a bathroom, an empty bed-oom, Dorothy's perfume . . .
He came to the door to the front bedroom that used to be ■^athaniers. This door was locked.
"Bartee!" he shouted.
No answer.
"Water's running someplace in there," puffed Marshall.
Bart said, "His bathroom. He can't hear."
Johnny hfted up his foot and began to kick at the lock of he door. Loud, hard blows.
Blanche came hurrying up the stairs.
Dick's voice said, inside the room, "What the? Come in, vh>' don't you?"
"Unlock the doorl" bawled Johnny.
"It's not locked."
Johnny kicked it again.
Then the key began to work inside, at the lock. Dick opened he door. "Who locked my door?" he said, looking astonished. What's going on?"
Johnny raged through, feeling nine feet tall.
"Now, just a mlflute," said Dick Bartee and his fists curled, lis shoulders tightened for the giving of blows.
Johnny knew about foot-fighting. Johnny's long right leg wung up and Johnny's shoe caught Dick Bartee on the ide of the jaw. He staggered back and fell.
Marshall and Copeland and Bart Bartee had come into he room.
Johnny stood, dead white v^dth fury, and he thought he was houting curses, looking down.
Dick Bartee, on the floor, presented a face of astonishment md even respect. Violence impressed him?
Then Nan was screaming. Nan, in her shp, pushed through he men, screaming, and flung herself dov^oi upon Dick.
"Shut up. Nan," said Johnny in a voice of thunder. "Shut ip! Be quiet!"
He wanted the noise to stop, the noise of the curses in lis brain, the thundering and roaring of his own blood. He vas almost deaf with the noises, but not quite.
His brain was getting a little signal.
And Johnny, with a mighty effort of his will, began to
listen to the brain. There was tapping somewhere in this room—a rat-a-tat. What? Where? Inside this door?
Johnny yanked open the closet door and there was Dorothy hanging in the closet, her pink dress flowing downward, her toes chattering on the wall, her body turned and swayed and turned around, from where it was hanging by the neck.
Nan screamed again on a pitch of terror.
Johnny stepped into the closet and grabbed the swaying body in both his arms. He Hfted. He held it with one arm. His other hand fumbled and tugged to try to loosen the terrible tightness of the cloth around the neck.
Marshall's hands came, helping to tear the sash, away from the high hook.
Johnny staggered and went down on one knee with Dorothy's body across the other.
Nan was screaming, "Dotty! Dotty." She had turned her face into Dick Bartee's shoulder and he said loudly, "What's going on herel Dorothy!"
Then Bart Bartee was saying to Johnny, "Doctor Jenson is downstairs. Give her to me."
CHAPTER 21
Johnny looked up from the wreck of beauty, the havoc of Dorothy's face. He looked up at Bart and their eyes held.
"Too late," said Johnny.
"I'll take her. Try . . ." So Bart took her up in his arms and Copeland helped. They carried the limp pink thing out of the bedroom and Bart was shouting, "Doctor Jenson"—and then the door closed. Johnny turned to face Dick Bartee.
Dick had scrambled to his feet by now and Nan was on her feet, too, held up in his arm.
"Dorothy!" said Dick with bulging eyes. "How the devil did she get in there?"
"What is it?" wailed Nan. "Oh, what is it? What happened?"
Johnny was taking a deep, deep breath and resolution was pouring through him. "Sit down on the bed, Nan," he said in a voice of command, "and if I hear one more girlish shiiek from you, I will throw you out of this room."
"Oh, no, you won't," said Dick angrily. "My wife—'' But he had let her go and Nan was staggering toward the bed. She sank upon it.
Johnny said, "Going to get this plain. Here and now. First, you killed Christy. We broke your alibi."
"That's right," said Marshall heavily.
"Don't be silly," said Dick Bartee. "For God's sake, what happened to Dorothy?"
"You killed Emily Padgett," said Johnny. "In the hospital. Your car was seen there. You were seen in the room. Seen in the corridor. A woman can identify—"
"Ridiculous," said Dick. "Nan, pay no attention. This man is obsessed . . ."
"Dick was with me," said Nan. "Johnny, you're crazy."
"Shut up, yoji Httle fool," said Johnny coldly. "His specialty is fooling young girls. You're not the first one."
The door opened and Copeland came in. He shook his head. "The sheriff's deputy is on the way. Should be here. With the warrant." He looked nervous.
"Warrant? For what?" snapped Dick.
"For you. Murder of Emily Padgett."