“All right. I suppose I deserve that.” said Lanigan, “but what I really meant is that—that he’s a cantankerous sort of man who’s always in our hair. If he were engaged in something like pot peddling, he wouldn’t be calling attention to himself.”
The rabbi shrugged off the argument. “Protective coloration. It evidently worked better than to try to be unobtrusive, especially in a small town like this. He always had the reputation of being a crank, so he went on being one when he began selling this stuff. It was safer than suddenly changing his image.”
Lanigan was silent, then he said quietly. “What made you think of him? Did you work this out by this Talmudic pil—whatever it is?”
“Pilpul? Not at all. I thought of Begg because he was the most obvious suspect. You would have seen it, too, if you weren’t conditioned to focus first and foremost on the outsider, the stranger. Alan Jenkins, who was not only from outside the town, but also colored.”
“But Begg is a kind of outsider. He’s a kind of recluse and a nut.”
“Not at all. He’s eccentric but well within the acceptable. He’s even traditional—the hard-headed, cantankerous Yankee who sticks up for his rights.”
“But what did he do that made you suspect him?”
“For one thing, he runs a place where youngsters hang out. He sells soda and some school supplies and lets them play the pinball machines. You’ve seen the place. What is there in that that makes it possible for him to even pay the rent? For another, Moose came from his house. He had to, because the tide was in and he couldn’t have come from farther along the beach. And then when the youngsters were breaking into the house and they were worried that they might be seen by someone next door, remember it was Moose who assured them that Begg wouldn’t bother them. Begg, a known crank and buttinsky. How could he possibly know that? Only if he knew Begg was going to leave. They probably left at the same time. And finally. I began thinking of B egg because it seemed odd that he should call to report he had seen a light. Unless he were a timid man. I would have assumed that he would first have investigated himself or at least reconnoitered.”
“Then, according to you, there’s a cache of marihuana in Hillson House.”
The rabbi shook his head. “There was. I assume he removed it before calling the police. That’s why he had to go there. And by this time, he wouldn’t have it in his own house either.”
“You realize, of course.” said Lanigan, “that there isn’t a particle of evidence against him. If we find his fingerprints in Hillson House, he says he’s been there many times as caretaker.”
“You might ask him about seeing the light.”
Once again Lanigan got up to stride around the room. “That’s not evidence. He has only to insist that he either saw it or thought he saw it. No jury would convict a man for saying he saw a light that he couldn’t have seen. They’d assume a natural mistake, the headlight of a car, the reflection of a streetlamp. No. it’s a pity we can’t introduce this pilpul of yours as legal evidence.”
“We could try.”
Lanigan hitched his chair up and said eagerly. “For instance?”
“Well, this man in Boston who was murdered the same day. We might think about him for a while to good effect.”
“Wilcox?”
“Yes, Wilcox. We know Moose went to see him because of the two twenty-dollar bills.”
“And the marihuana.”
“Marihuana he could have got from any number of sources, but two twenty-dollar bills whose serial numbers ran consecutive with those Wilcox had—those could have come only from Wilcox.”
“All right.”
“How did Moose get them?” asked the rabbi. “What do you mean?”
“He could have taken them, or they could have been given to him.”
“Oh, I see. Well, obviously they were given to him, because if he had taken them, why stop at just two?”
“Precisely. Now why were they given to him? Two of them, mind you.”
“We can’t know that, Rabbi.”
“Let me put it another way. Suppose in the course of conversation Moose had mentioned that he was broke. Conceivably, Wilcox might have been willing to lend him some to tide him over. Normally, that would mean a dollar or two, or five dollars, or even ten. But if he had nothing smaller on him at the time than twenties, he might have given him one of those. But he gave him two twenties—forty dollars. What does that suggest?”
Lanigan shook his head. “I pass.”
“It suggests payment for something. But since Moose was broke and had nothing Wilcox could want, it suggests some sort of payment in advance.”
“For what?”
“We can’t be certain, of course, but didn’t you say this Wilcox was connected with the drug traffic?”
“The Boston police are sure he was a dealer.”
“All right, and since you also found a rather sizable quantity of the marihuana on Moose, and Jenkins admits having taken ten cigarettes from him. I suggest this was either an advance on salary or on commissions on sales. Mrs. Carter said that Moose had gone to Boston for a job. I think he got it.”
“Yeah, could be. Could be he was setting him up in business. All right. I’ll buy that. What’s the connection with his death? And with Begg?”
“We haven’t finished with Moose’s activities.” said the rabbi reproachfully.
“Why, what did he do then?”
“He came back to Barnard’s Crossing and went directly to see Mr. Begg.”
“Any more on Moose?”
The rabbi shook his head. “I didn’t know the young man. I can only speculate that the description of his behavior at the cookout, his drinking and carrying on there and again at the Hillson House, suggests he was euphoric. And when you add in the fact he neglected to go home to dinner, which was a serious offense in the Carter household, it indicates he no longer had reason to fear his father.”
“And Begg?” Lanigan asked sarcastically. “Do you know what he did? Where he went after he left Moose?”
“I’m afraid it would be pure speculation,” said the rabbi primly.
“I see. Well, why stop now? Go ahead and speculate.”
“Very well, I imagine he went to see Wilcox. The fact that Moose came to see Begg directly after leaving a narcotics dealer who had just set him up in business suggests that Begg was another agent of Wilcox, or a partner. If he were an agent, he certainly would have objected to anyone sharing the territory, Moose particularly. And if he were a partner, he may have gone to protest an injudicious appointment.”
Lanigan sat back and stared at the rabbi in silence. Finally he said. “I don’t suppose you’d care to amplify that with a fact or two, would you? Or did you mention something I happened to overlook?”
The rabbi grinned good-naturedly. “I said it was pure speculation, but if we consider it from the other end, it may seem more reasonable. For example, it gives us the first real motive for killing Moose. When Begg left his house, Moose knew where Begg was going, and when he heard of the death of Wilcox, he would know who did it.”
Lanigan stared at the rabbi in silence. Finally he said. “So now you’ve got Begg killing Wilcox, too.”
“It adds up.”
“And proof?”
“Perhaps fingerprints. Begg’s, in Wilcox’s apartment?”
Lanigan shook his head. “Not after a week, with cops all over the place.”
“Just a minute. Didn’t you say some woman had seen him?”
“Madelaine Spinney. The Boston police thought they had something when she recognized Moose from a photograph they got from the files of the Boston papers. It’s a different size than rogue’s gallery pictures. That’s probably why she picked it; it was different. From what they say; I doubt if she’d be able to identify your man. She’s not very bright.”