“Oh, but it was murder and suicide,” Pearl Right broke in. “I know it was. That much I’ll swear to. I saw that look in Arthur’s eyes. Something happened to the evidence. It was removed.”
“By evidence, you mean the gun?” Duryea asked.
“And the note. I know he would have left a note, probably on the typewriter, because it would have been long. He wouldn’t have left one of those short, cryptic notes, saying, ‘I had to do this,’ or ‘I did this because I found out something about the woman I loved.’ Not Arthur. He’d have killed Addison Stearne, then sat down at the typewriter, and composed a long letter. It would have gone back to his first association with Addison Stearne, would have told of his love for Nita Moline, of his suspicions, that he couldn’t go on facing life, knowing that the woman he loved had been the mistress of the man he had placed on a pedestal, and he’d probably have left... well...”
“Left what?” Duryea asked as she hesitated.
“Probably left a will disinheriting me,” she admitted.
“And that will’s disappeared?”
“Apparently.”
“You haven’t found any will in his papers?”
“No. That’s another thing that shows what he had in mind. He’d drawn a will, placed it in a sealed envelope, and left it in the hands of his banker. The banker telephoned me about it. He seemed rather worried, because Friday afternoon Arthur called and got the envelope containing the will. He said he wanted to make a new one.”
“Did that other will leave everything to you?” Duryea asked.
“I don’t know. The banker said it was about six months old, so I presume it didn’t. There’s probably some provision made, but... well, you see it was about six months ago... The banker told me the first will had been made about two years ago, then about six months ago Arthur said he wanted to change it. He withdrew the envelope, and about three days later substituted another one, then Friday afternoon he wanted to change the will again.”
“The banker doesn’t know what was in that other will?”
“No. It was in a sealed envelope.”
Hilbers said, “I’m hoping you’ll understand our position, Mr. Duryea. Pearl has had this preying on her mind. Even if she’s correct in her idea of what happened, I can’t see where she’s at all to blame — and I can’t think there’s any possibility she’s right. Let’s suppose that Addison Stearne was Nita Moline’s father or stood in the position of a father to her. That would account for his relationship with her. It would also ac-count for the things he’d given her. Now then, it isn’t as though Arthur walked up to Stearne, suddenly pulled a gun and shot him. Arthur went on the yacht with Stearne. They were together for at least several hours before the shooting took place. That means that even if Arthur had been carrying the gun and had intended to shoot Stearne, he would have given Stearne some opportunity to make explanations. Now that’s logical, isn’t it?”
“That is very logical,” Duryea said.
“And if Stearne had been the girl’s father, he only needed to say to Arthur, ‘You’re crazy, Arthur. I’m the girl’s father,’ or ‘I look on her as my daughter,’ and that would have settled the whole business.”
“That’s a very conclusive and logical point,” Duryea admitted.
Pearl Right said, with a note of hysteria in her voice, “You’re just trying to make me feel that it’s all right.”
Her brother said impatiently, “Don’t be a fool, Pearl. We’re talking facts and figures.” He turned to Duryea parenthetically, “I’ve been all over this with her a dozen times, but she won’t listen to me. I thought that perhaps you could reassure her. She knows that it’s your duty to investigate what happened. You’re certainly not going to overlook any possibilities, simply to reassure my sister, are you?”
Duryea smiled. “Absolutely not.”
“That’s what I’ve told her. Now let’s get back to the evidence. If Nita Moline was Addison Stearne’s mistress, and if Arthur accused Stearne of that, and Stearne admitted it and Arthur shot him, I can’t see where Pearl is in any way responsible.”
Duryea said cautiously, “You’re right about one thing. If Stearne had any explanation to make, he must have had an opportunity to make it before Mr. Right shot him.”
Warren Hilbers said, “As I see it, there are several possible explanations. One is that Miss Moline’s connection with Addison Stearne had nothing to do with it, that it was a double murder. The other is that Arthur killed him and committed suicide. But if that happened, it is absolutely impossible that the relationship between Miss Moline and Addison Stearne could have been as innocent and platonic as she now pretends.”
“And if that were the case,” Duryea said, “you have some theory about what happened afterwards, Mr. Hilbers?”
“Yes,” Hilbers said. “I think Miss Moline...”
“Warren, stop,” Pearl interrupted. “There’s been too much careless talk already.”
Hilbers paid no attention to her, but kept on talking, his manner completely dominating the situation. “Under those circumstances, Arthur would have left a note, and, of course, the gun would have been very much in evidence. There is only one person who would have profited by removing the gun and destroying the note. That person is Miss Moline. In that event, she must have been on the yacht long enough to have switched things around to suit herself, destroying the evidence she didn’t want found, and planting evidence she did want found.”
“As I see it, if Miss Moline had been Addison Stearne’s mistress and was breaking up Pearl’s home, Pearl certainly had a right to say what she did to her husband. If it wasn’t true, Addison Stearne certainly had every opportunity to set Arthur right. Personally, I think Pearl is torturing herself needlessly.”
Duryea turned to Mrs. Right and asked, “You went to Catalina Saturday?”
“Yes. I tried to see Addison Stearne Friday night. I couldn’t see him. I gave my brother a ring and told him I was very much disturbed, that I wanted to ask his advice about something.”
“But you didn’t tell me about missing the gun, Pearl.”
“No. I didn’t tell you about that until Sunday.”
Hilbers said, “She told me about the quarrel and what she’d said. I suggested she let the thing work itself out. She’d tried to see Stearne, and that was all she could do. Of course, at that time, Mr. Duryea, we had no intimation there might be any other relationship between Stearne and Miss Moline than that which my sister had suspected.”
“When did you go to Catalina?” Duryea asked.
Hilbers said, “We left about eight o’clock, wasn’t it, Pearl?”
“Not that early. About eight-thirty. I left the house about seven-thirty. I don’t think we actually started over in the speedboat until around eight-thirty.”
Duryea asked, just as a matter of course, “You were together after that?”
“Yes,” Hilbers said, and then added quickly, “Now wait a minute — if you want to be absolutely accurate. There were short periods when we weren’t together — perhaps fifteen-minute or half-hour intervals.”
“And I took a nap Saturday afternoon,” Pearl Right said. “I was asleep for over an hour, perhaps an hour and a half.”
Duryea smiled. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to check up on you that closely. I just wanted to know generally.”
Mrs. Right said, “We went over to Catalina. We cruised around a little bit, and then Warren got us a cottage.”