“I’m doing better than that. I’m ignoring it.”
Duryea turned to the deputy who stood guard at the door. “Carter, ask Mr. Shale to step in, if you will, please, and at the same time you can ask Mr. and Mrs. Tucker to look in here.”
The guard said, “Mr. Wiggins — the old man — says he wants to come in when the Tuckers come in.”
Duryea smiled. “All right, let him.”
The guard opened the door, said, “Shale and the Tuckers. Okay, Wiggins, you can come.”
The four filed into the room. Nita Moline turned to survey them. She had a flicker of a smile for Shale. The others she regarded coldly. She resumed her seat, waiting scornfully.
Duryea looked at Tucker and raised his eyebrows. Tucker, a tall, dispirited man whose shoulders and face sagged listlessly as though tired of holding up their own weight, apparently failed to get the signal. Mrs. Tucker whispered something to Gramps Wiggins. Gramps in turn nudged Tucker and passed on the whisper.
Tucker slowly shook his head.
Gramps said in his quick, high-pitched voice, “Better talk with us a little later. Okay for us to wait here?”
“No,” Duryea said with a smile. “Wait outside,” and then as he saw the look on Gramps’ face, relented and said, “You may sit down over there by the sheriff, Mr. Wiggins. Mr. and Mrs. Tucker can wait outside. Shale, if you’ll come over here and draw up that chair by the corner of the desk, I want to ask you a few questions.”
Shale silently complied with his request.
“You are employed as a salesman?” Duryea asked of Shale.
“That’s right.”
“You didn’t know C. Arthur Right or Addison Stearne?”
“I’d never met either of them.”
“You were on the beach Sunday morning?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know when Miss Moline boarded the yacht?”
“I didn’t actually see her go aboard the yacht, but I know when she must have boarded it.”
“When?”
“At just about fifteen minutes before I picked her up in the skiff.”
“You first saw her when she came to the rail of the yacht?”
“That’s right.”
“How long did she stay there at the rail?”
“A minute or two.”
“And then?”
“She fell overboard.”
“How long did it take you to get to her?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about the passing of time at that particular moment. I was simply trying to get there.”
“Can you make any estimate?”
“Well, let’s see. I had to run about fifteen or twenty yards, then I had to get a boat untied and row out. Oh, three minutes perhaps.”
“During that time she was struggling in the water?”
“I don’t think she was struggling. She went under either once or twice. I think she was coming up for about the third time when I arrived with the skiff.”
“Now what makes you say she boarded the yacht about fifteen minutes before you first saw her?”
“I didn’t say fifteen minutes before I first saw her,” Shale said cautiously. “I said about fifteen minutes before I got her out of the water. It was probably about eleven or twelve minutes before I first saw her — that is, if you want to be absolutely accurate.”
“Well, what makes you fix the time when she must have boarded the yacht?”
“Because that was the only time she could have boarded the yacht without my seeing her.”
“Explain that, please.”
“Just about fifteen minutes before I picked her up out of the water, I became very much interested in a peculiar shell.”
“You seem to be rather positive that it was exactly fifteen minutes before you picked Miss Moline out of the water.”
“Well, of course, I didn’t time it. I’m only giving an estimate.”
“You were staying at the Balboa Hotel?”
“Yes.”
“And returned there after I had finished questioning you aboard the yacht?”
“Yes.”
“And Miss Moline got in touch with you there?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“We went out and had a drink.”
“And you went aboard the Albatross?”
“Yes.”
“At her suggestion?”
“Well, yes, in a way.”
“Had you ever met Miss Harpler before?”
“Not before that day, no, sir.”
“Was there some particular reason you went aboard the Albatross?”
“Miss Moline suggested it.”
Duryea said dryly, “You don’t have to answer any of these questions, you know. And if you do answer them, you don’t have to tell the truth. But telling an untruth might well lead to complications. Now, Mr. Shale, was there any particular reason why you went aboard the Albatross?”
Nita Moline said, “He did so at my request.”
“I’m asking Shale,” Duryea said.
Shale said, “I have nothing to add to what Miss Moline has said. If you want to know anything about what I did after I left the Gypsy Queen, you’ll have to ask her.”
Duryea thought that over for a few minutes, then asked, “Why do you adopt that attitude, Shale?”
“Because I don’t believe that what I did after that has anything whatever to do with the murders.”
“The Albatross put to sea around two or three o’clock in the afternoon, didn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Weren’t you aboard at the time?”
“I was asleep.”
“When did you wake up?”
“When we were out at sea somewhere.”
“What did you do?”
“I tried to get out of the stateroom.”
“Did you?”
“No, sir, not right then. The door was locked. I raised quite a commotion, however, and eventually Miss Harpler came down to let me out.”
“What did she say?”
“Said that she felt that some of the officers aboard the Gypsy Queen thought we were taking too great an interest in the Albatross, so she decided to embark upon a little cruise just to make things seem casual.”
Nita Moline started to say something, then checked herself. “What time was it when you woke up?” Duryea asked Shale.
“Shortly before sundown.”
Duryea said, “I guess that’s all for the present. I’m satisfied that subsequent to the discovery of the bodies, something happened, and that you people are trying to keep what that something was from coming to my attention. Until I get more co-operation from you on that point, you will be subject to certain inconveniences.”
He waited for one of them to speak, but neither one said anything. They exchanged a quick, brief glance, then avoided each other’s eyes — and his.
Gramps Wiggins hitched forward in his chair. “One question I’d kinda like to ask,” he said.
Duryea frowned.
“Now listen,” Gramps Wiggins interpolated, “this is important, son.”
“What is it?” Duryea asked, his tone unconsciously curt.
“I’d like to have Shale tell us whether Miss Moline didn’t ask him about what time he wasn’t looking at the yacht before she told him when she came aboard.”
Shale frowned at Gramps Wiggins, then smiled, turned back to Duryea, and said, “I can answer that very easily, Mr. Duryea. She did nothing of the...” Abruptly he stopped. A puzzled frown came over his face. He looked quickly at Nita Moline, then away again.
Gramps Wiggins got up out of the chair and walked around to where he could look down at Shale. “Didn’t she come up to the hotel, take you out and buy you a drink?” he shrilled, his voice high-pitched with excitement. “And ask you how it happened you didn’t see her when she went aboard the yacht? Didn’t she ask you if there wasn’t some time when you weren’t lookin’? Didn’t she pump you first?”