He smiled crookedly.
“That’s taught me a lesson: no more middle-aged neurotics for me. I’m going to stick to the young ones in future. They don’t take it so hard.” He leaned forward to stare at the .38 lying on the table where I had put it. “Now where do you imagine she got this from?”
“Anyone can get a gun these days.” I scooped up the gun and shoved it into my hip pocket. “Is that right she hired Sheppey to watch you?”
His face suddenly became expressionless.
“Did she? I wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t put it past her to hire a flock of dicks to watch me. She looked on me as her special possession.”
“Quite an expensive one if you owe her thirteen thousand bucks.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders.
“She’s crazy. I didn’t borrow anything like that amount from her. I dare say during the six months we’ve been around together it cost her something, but I was spending it on her, and that’s not quite the same thing as owing it to her, is it?”
“You said to her she had hired a private dick to watch you. That was Sheppey, wasn’t it?”
“Did I say that? I tell you I don’t know who it was.”
“If you’re bothered about getting mixed up with the police you can relax,” I said. “I’m carrying out my own investigation. You tell me what I want to know and I’ll keep it away from the police.”
He thought for a long moment, then asked, “Just what do you want to know?”
“Did Mrs. Creedy hire Sheppey to watch you?”
He hesitated.
“This isn’t going to get me a cop in my lap?”
“No.”
“Well, okay. Yes, she did.”
“Why?”
“Because she imagined I was running around with her step-daughter.”
“Were you?”
“Good grief, no! I’d had enough of her months ago.”
I took a pull at my glass, then I lit a cigarette.
“Then who was the girl you were running around with?” I asked, staring at him.
He grinned. By now he had got his nerve back, and also he was getting a little drunk.
“That would be telling. Just a girl.”
“Did Sheppey get on to her?”
Thrisby nodded.
“Yeah; he told Bridgette. She went along and tried to put the fear of God into her.”
“Did she succeed?”
“She must have done. I didn’t see her again.”
“Then what happened?”
“I let Bridgette put the ring back in my nose and lead me around again. Then a couple of nights ago I decided I d had more than enough and the rest you know.”
I had a feeling I was only getting half the truth, certainly not all of it.
“This is important, Thrisby,” I said. “Was this girl Sheppey was watching Thelma Cousins?”
I saw his eyes flicker as my words gave him a stab of surprise.
“Look, brother. I’m not getting snarled up in any police inquiries. I’ve told you: she was just a girl.”
“You’ll have to do better than that,” I said. “You’ve already said too much. Was she Thelma Cousins?”
“Okay, okay, so she was,” he said impatiently. “Now are you happy?”
I stared at him, feeling a little prickle of excitement run through me. At last I was really getting somewhere.
“From what I’ve been told, she never went around with men.”
He grinned.
“Those are the easy ones. When they fall, they fall hard. I had her eating out of my hand in a couple of days. We were all set for the big night when your pal Sheppey barged in.”
“How did you meet her?”
“At the pottery place. Bridgette took me there and I spotted this little thing. I saw she had fallen for me and when a girl falls for me I like to be obliging.”
He was beginning to sicken me, and it was only with an effort I kept from showing it.
“How did you find out Sheppey was watching you two?” I asked.
“Thelma told me. She called me up and said he’d been around to her place and had warned her to keep clear of me. I guessed Bridgette had slicked him on to me so I told Thelma we’d better pack it up. I knew Bridgette would start trouble if I didn’t give the girl up.”
“I thought you said Bridgette went to see her?”
He lit a cigarette.
“She went to see her after Sheppey had seen her. At least that’s what she told me.”
I had liked it fairly well up to now, but I began not to like it. There was something wrong with this story. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I had a growing feeling I wasn’t getting all the truth.
“Who killed them, Thrisby?” I asked, watching him.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “I’ve been wondering why she went with Sheppey to that bathing cabin. All I can think of is she took up with him after I had dropped her.”
That was possible, I thought. Sheppey had a way with women. If this girl had imagined she was going to have her first affair with Thrisby and then had been let down, she might well have rebounded into Sheppey’s arms.
“You have no idea who killed her?”
He hesitated, then said, “Well, I’ve thought about it. It seems to me it’s possible the killer wasn’t after Sheppey, but after the girl. Sheppey might have tried to protect her and got killed instead of her. That would explain why she had left her clothes there. She probably was so scared she bolted for her life.”
“Then why didn’t she tell the police?”
“Well, ask yourself. She was a religious kid: it says so in the newspapers. How was she going to explain what she was doing with a man in a bathing cabin meant for a married couple? I think she bolted down to the sand dunes and hid there. The killer, after fixing Sheppey, went after her, caught her and took her some place. Later she was killed and her body brought back to the cabin. That’s my idea, but I could be wrong.”
“And you think Bridgette killed Sheppey and the girl?” I asked.
He stiffened, frowning at me.
“I didn’t say that. I can’t see Bridgette sticking an ice pick into Sheppey, can you?”
I thought about it and decided I couldn’t either.
“But she could have hired someone to do it: one of her husband’s thugs: Hertz, for instance.”
Thrisby grimaced.
“That thug! Yes, she could have done that. It wouldn’t surprise me if she doesn’t slick him on to me. That would be her idea of levelling scores.” He began to look worried. “Maybe I’d better get out of this town. It might not be safe to stay here.”
Then I had a sudden idea.
I took a cigarette from my pack, put it between my lips, then took from my hip pocket the Musketeer Club match folder. I held it between my fingers so he could see it as I said, “What do you know about Hertz?” I bent one of the matches, tore it out of the folder and laid the head against the scraper.
I didn’t take my eyes off him.
His reaction was immediate. He made a movement as if to stop me lighting the match, but checked it. His face was suddenly tense and his eyes stared fixedly at the folder.
I struck the match, lit my cigarette, flicked the flame out and laid the match in the ash tray, being careful to lay it cipher side up.
His eyes went to the row of ciphers and he drew in a quick, sharp breath.
“Anything wrong?” I asked, slipping the match folder into my hip pocket.
He got hold of himself.
“No. I... I didn’t know you were a member of the Musketeer Club.”
“I’m not. You mean the match folder? Just something I picked up.”
“I see.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. “Well, I’ve got to be moving. I have a lunch date.” And he stood up.
“You didn’t answer my question. What do you know about Hertz?”