My hand went suddenly numb, and the gun slipped from my fingers. Hunk Slocum scooped it up.
“Did you hear him, Dix?” Slocum asked.
“Yes,” the voice behind me said, “I heard him admit it.”
“The man behind you,” Slocum said to me, “is Dix Maney, a local detective. He came up with me, son, but not in. You were right when you said I couldn’t prove it. I could only post Dix outside and make you admit it. Luckily, you’re staying in a swank hotel where the doors open without noise — or you might have got the drop on Dix too.”
Vivian screamed and buried her face in her hands. Hard sobs shook her.
Dumbly, I let Slocum snap the handcuffs tight. All strength drained out of me and my mind was filled with the flaming apparition of the electric chair. I would have collapsed, if Maney and Hunk Slocum, one on either side, hadn’t supported me.
That’s the way they dragged me from the hotel, people staring, my toes sliding along on the floor, two firm hands under either shoulder, my wrists manacled with steel.
On the sidewalk, as we approached a squad car at the curb, the cool air cleared my senses a little.
“But how,” I choked. “How did you know? How could you have known? It was perfect...”
“Perfect,” Slocum said slowly. “Yes, maybe it was. Or maybe it was a little too perfect. There wasn’t a thing you overlooked. But you see, son, it started raining in Landan just before the sun came up this morning, and it’s been raining ever since...”
The squad car door slammed in my face.