“Now,” Mason said to the District Attorney, “if we could locate the other witness to that will, we might find out something about Banning Clarke’s murder.”
Small said, “The other witness was named Craiglaw. He was waiting in the office at the same time I was. We happened to strike up an acquaintance. That’s all I know about him — that his name was Craiglaw, and that he was a man about fifty-four or fifty-five years old.”
Mason said to the District Attorney, “There is one phase of this matter that has never been explained. When Banning Clarke left the room immediately after drinking the poisoned cup of tea, Moffgat was trying to get me to stipulate to taking his deposition. Moffgat had a subpoena all ready to serve on him, and Moffgat said that he was going to serve that subpoena. It would have been logical for Moffgat to try to do so; yet apparently he made no such attempt. That would seem to indicate that he had other plans.
“At the time, I was just a little stupid. I underestimated Moffgat’s intelligence. I thought that he was dumb enough to let a witness he wanted slip through his fingers. But Moffgat wasn’t dumb — he was shrewd enough to know that if he flashed this subpoena on me, I would signal Banning Clarke to get out of the way. Then, Moffgat would have had an excellent excuse to go out in the cactus garden to try and serve his subpoena. If he had been caught there, he could simply have said, ‘Why, I’m here trying to serve this subpoena.’ But if he wasn’t caught there, if no one saw him enter, if he found Banning Clarke lying asleep on the sand, then he needed only to squeeze the trigger on an automatic and get off the premises. I notice that the sheriff checked on where everyone was at the time Dr. Kenward was wounded, but he didn’t check on Moffgat. Moffgat had announced he was driving back to Los Angeles, and for some reason, Sheriff Greggory took that entirely at its face value.
“A short time ago, Moffgat was trying very hard indeed to have the sale of the Shooting Star Group rescinded on the ground of fraud. More lately, he’s been talking about settling the case and keeping the claims. There’s just a chance that Moffgat spied on Banning Clarke when he was working on his wall. Or Moffgat may possibly have manipulated a beam of invisible light from a machine of his own. And if you turn a beam of invisible light on the lower part of that rock wall you’ll see what I mean — the low portion where even a man with heart trouble could manipulate the little rocks around.
“Evidently Banning Clarke was beginning to suspect something about what Moffgat had done, something of the true nature of Small’s hold over Bradisson. I wouldn’t doubt that Banning Clarke had some rather damaging bit of evidence which he was keeping in his desk. I do know that evidence had been tampered with. I found only a small phial and a dying mosquito. If Clarke had put that mosquito in the little bottle at the time he made the will, the insect would have been dead before I ever saw it.
“You know, Sheriff, if I were you, and if I had a brother-in-law in Los Angeles who is as clever and adroit as Lieutenant Tragg, I think I’d ring him up and suggest it would be a feather in both of your caps to apprehend Moffgat on a charge of first-degree murder, and whisk him out of Los Angeles County and up to San Roberto before he had a chance to start using any habeas corpus or taking steps to bring pressure to bear on the witnesses.”
Chapter 24
Afternoon shadows were collecting in purple pools on the desert floor far below when Mason and Della Street drove around the last turn in the grade, to roll out on the plateau mesa where Salty had his camp.
Salty Bowers came ambling over toward the car as Mason brought it to a stop. There was hostility and suspicion in his manner until he recognized the car. Then he slouched into friendliness.
Mason and Della Street clambered out and stretched travel-stiffened limbs.
“Brought you some news,” Mason said. “And then we’re going to stay up here for a day or two and get some of the so-called civilization purified out of our minds. Your murder is all solved.”
“Who did it?”
“Sheriff Greggory and Lieutenant Tragg working in Los Angeles.”
“No. I mean who did the murder?”
“Oh — Moffgat killed Banning Clarke. He took a shot at Dr. Kenward first, thinking he was shooting at the sleeping figure of Banning Clarke. After he found out his mistake, he learned about your departure in the house trailer and started looking for you. He probably would never have found you if it hadn’t been that, just by chance, you drove under a street light a couple of blocks in front of him. Banning Clarke had been poisoned and you were looking for medical attention. When you went in to telephone the hospital, Moffgat simply opened the door of the house trailer, walked in, pulled the trigger, and walked out. It was that simple and that fast.”
“Why did he do it?” Salty asked.
“That,” Mason said, “is the part of it that has a direct bearing on you.”
Salty raised his eyebrows.
“Mrs. Banning Clarke made a will in December of nineteen forty-one. She died in January of nineteen forty-two. Hayward Small was a witness to the new will. The other witness was a man by the name of Craiglaw. The Bradissons bribed Moffgat to say nothing about the latter will and to offer the earlier one for probate. That earlier will had been made before Banning Clarke gave his wife the stock in the mine. At that time she didn’t have a great deal of property in her own name, so she left it all to her mother and brother, share and share alike.”
“But why kill Banning Clarke?” Salty asked.
“Because Banning Clarke had uncovered a clue. In going through some of his wife’s papers he found a diary, and under date of December fifth there was an entry in the diary: ‘Went to Los Angeles — witnesses, Rupert Craiglaw and Hayward Small.’ That clue in the diary was all that Banning Clarke had to work on. You remember that he told me he was going to want me in connection with another matter. His pooling agreement and getting me to represent Mrs. Sims in that fraud suit were just excuses to give him an opportunity to size me up. He’d been double-crossed by one lawyer. He didn’t want to repeat the experience.
“After the shooting, and the poisoning of the Bradissons, Clarke thought his life might be in danger. He wasn’t quite ready to confide in me as yet, but, in the event something happened to him, he wanted me to go ahead and see that justice was done. You must remember that he knew the seriousness of his heart condition, and had to plan every move with the constant thought in mind that he might die at any minute.”
Salty fished a plug of tobacco from his pocket, bit of? a corner and rolled it over into his cheek.
“Moffgat came out to the house after he had killed Clarke. The Bradissons weren’t there. Della and I were lying asleep, under the influence of drugs. Velma Starler was engaged in waiting on Dr. Kenward, who had, of course, been wounded by Moffgat when he shot him.