Nita Moline, white faced, said, “And what do you think was my relationship with Addison Stearne?”
“You’re asking for it,” Pearl Right said.
“I’m asking for it.”
“You were a cast-off mistress.”
“Pearl, do you actually believe that?”
“Of course I believe it.”
Nita Moline, standing with her hands clenched into tight little fists, said, “There’s no reason on earth why I should, but, just so you’ll get something straight for once in your life, I’m going to tell you. Addison was in love with my mother. He tried to marry her, wanted desperately to marry her. She turned him down and married my father. My father left her. Mother died. Two years ago, Father was killed in an auto accident. Addison Stearne read about it, and started a search for Mother. He found out then she was dead. His investigators found me. I looked very much as my mother had when she was my age. Addison wanted me to treat him as a father. There were things about him which attracted me to him, and there were other things which repelled me. I know just how my mother felt. The cold-blooded efficiency of the man, his habit of reducing everything to dollars and cents, his cynical belief that every man had his price... oh, well, what’s the use?”
“What’s the use?” Pearl Right echoed mockingly. “It’s a nice explanation to make — after Addison’s death. I suppose you lay awake all night thinking it up.”
Nita Moline said, “I should have known better than to have come here. I only thought we might be able to save the washing of a lot of dirty linen, and get things settled fairly and amicably instead of having them tied up in lawsuits.” She started for the door.
“Wait a minute,” Pearl Right said. “I haven’t answered your question yet.”
“What question?”
“About what I’m going to do in contesting your appointment.”
“I don’t care a fig what you do.”
Pearl said, “You’re peculiar. You won’t face facts.”
“As it happens, your statements aren’t true.”
“Oh, yes, they are. Arthur had a crazy streak in him. He’d begun to get suspicious of your relationship with Addison. He left here Saturday carrying his revolver. I tried to warn Addison. He wouldn’t see me. That was his hard luck.”
“Arthur was carrying a revolver?”
“Of course he was, a thirty-eight caliber Colt. Don’t act so surprised. You know what happened. He killed Addison, and then shot himself. But Arthur would have left a note. He’d have had to explain just why he did it. That was Arthur all over, always going into details to justify himself, not caring what it might mean to others.”
Nita Moline’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Arthur told you on Friday he was in love with me?”
“Yes.”
“That he was going to leave you?”
“He said one or the other of us would have to get a divorce.”
“And then he started carrying a gun?”
“Yes.”
“For Addison Stearne?”
“Of course.”
Nita Moline said positively, “That’s because when he told you he was in love with me, you taunted him with the fact that I was Addison Stearne’s cast-off mistress, didn’t you, Pearl?”
Pearl Right avoided her eyes.
“Didn’t you?”
“What if I did?”
“You... You...”
“Oh, don’t be so self-righteous,” Mrs. Right said. “Arthur would have left a statement justifying his act. You know what happened as well as I do. You destroyed that note, and tossed the gun overboard. You made it look like a double murder so you could keep your name out of it, and, by making it look like a double murder, you had a chance to show Arthur died first. If it had been murder and suicide, Arthur would have inherited...”
“That shows all you know about it,” Nita Moline interrupted heatedly. “If Arthur had killed him, neither Arthur nor his heirs could ever have taken a penny of Addison’s money, regardless of what was in the will. That’s the law.”
Pearl Right smiled. “Well, well,” she said, “you did give yourself away, didn’t you, dearie? You’ve already asked your lawyer about that.”
Nita Moline said angrily, “That was just one of the questions I asked my lawyers.”
“Oh, yes,” Pearl said, “leave it to you! It would be just one of the questions. You’d keep the lawyer from suspecting by asking a hundred questions which didn’t have anything to do with what you really wanted to know.”
Nita Moline snapped, “You put that thought into Arthur’s head. You taunted him with falling for a cast-off mistress. Why, if he had killed Addison, you’d be a murderess.”
Mrs. Right said, “And so you thought up this explanation of Addison Stearne’s fatherly interest. You had all night to do it. And you came to me to get me to keep my mouth shut... Well, why not? After all, Arthur was finished with me. I don’t blame you for that. I blame Addison... And we can be sensible. Nita, come back here.”
But Nita Moline, stalking angrily to the door, walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.
Chapter 11
Parker Gibbs sat in the room which he had reserved as an office at his house. He was pounding away on a portable typewriter. Mrs. Gibbs was running the vacuum cleaner in the living room. She paused from time to time, shut-ting off the motor of the vacuum cleaner, listening to the clack of the typewriter as though the tapping of the keys might convey some information of what her husband was writing.
After a while she pulled the plug in the cleaner and opened the door of her husband’s study. He paused in his writing to look up at her. His eyes were dark ringed and slightly blood-shot. “What is it?”
“Go to bed.”
“Can’t. I’ve got to make this report, then I’ve got to get back to Santa Delbarra.”
“What are you going back there for?”
“I left my car up there.”
“That woman isn’t going back with you?”
“No, dear, of course not.”
“Where was she when you found her?”
“In an auto.”
“When?”
“I don’t know just when. It was pretty late, around midnight.”
“Where were you?”
“Down by the beach.”
“She wasn’t in a hotel when you found her?”
“What makes you think that?”
“It was time for her to be in bed.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that late.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me?”
“Why, no, hon. Why should I lie?”
“Because men are made that way.”
He laughed.
“It’s all right for you to laugh. You’re running around the country, having heaven-knows-what adventures. Why did you have to come down in her car?”
“Because I had to see she got here.”
“She certainly likes to show her legs.”
“Aw, hon, that’s just the way they take pictures for the newspapers. They dug that old picture out of their files. It shows her when she was coming back from an ocean trip. All ship reporters get pictures of women showing their legs.”
“Well, she certainly showed hers! She was glad to co-operate... What time did you leave Santa Delbarra?”
“About quarter after three.”
“I thought you said you found her at midnight.”
“I did, but she wouldn’t leave until three.”
“What were you two doing between twelve and...”