I changed the subject hastily. “What about just one shot having been fired from the pistol that killed two men?”
“Myra reloaded it after killing Leslie.” Jerry was relaxed and talkative after the strain was over. I had a queer feeling that he felt the need to justify himself, to justify the system which he represented and which was going to demand the death penalty against a woman who had killed because she loved too well.
“If she had kept a tight hold on her nerve,” he said moodily, “she might have gotten away with the first murder. I didn’t actually suspect her when I first put the pressure on. But I felt something strange about her reactions, a shade too much defiance.”
Laura and I remained quiet while Jerry Burke groped for words to express what he hadn’t allowed himself to think while the chase was on.
“She loved Leslie deeply and sincerely. I knew it from the times I had seen them together. That’s why I couldn’t quite stomach Dwight’s alibi, which was a complete tissue of lies. I knew her for the sort of woman who might openly take a lover in defiance of her husband but I couldn’t see her sneaking around behind Leslie’s back and signaling a man like Dwight to come visiting by way of the back door.”
“If I hadn’t kissed Leslie...” Laura began in a low stricken tone, but Burke silenced her with a shake of his head.
“It went back beyond the kiss... beyond you. Leslie Young was a born philanderer. Their marriage was a tragic mistake from the beginning... culminating in tragedy.”
I changed the subject again by asking: “How did Myra happen to think of using Dwight to alibi her?”
“Her signed statement explains that. He had been watching her through his telescope that afternoon and he saw her slip away and follow Leslie down into the canyon. When he heard about the murder he realized he had a hold on her and he hurried over to threaten her with exposure unless she... er... agreed to his proposal. She defied him to do his worst, but when it looked as though we might pin the murder on her she decided to use him for an alibi and then get rid of him.”
“He deserved what he got,” Laura flared angrily.
Burke nodded, that drawn look of conflict on his face again. “Which makes it... not so nice to carry around the thought that she might be free if I hadn’t...” He broke off, poured himself a drink and put it down straight.
“She’ll plead the unwritten law,” said Laura in a cool voice which concealed her real feelings. “With me for the ‘other woman’ at whom the finger of scorn can be pointed no jury of Texas gentlemen will convict her.”
“Probably not.” Jerry shook himself as though to shed the depressing train of thought and got up.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “There’s still that anonymous telephone call warning Young to stay away from Dwight’s.”
“Oh, that?” Burke smiled. “There wasn’t any telephoned warning. Myra threw that in for good measure to make her husband’s death appear to be tied up more definitely with the note from Michaela and the secret negotiations between Dwight and the Mexicans. Just as she marked the cross on his cheek, and later left the silver cross on Dwight’s body after shooting him. Simply to becloud the issue and make things seem what they weren’t... in which she succeeded admirably.”
He yawned and picked up his hat. “Being a salaried slave of the taxpayers instead of an indolent fictioner, I’ll have to run along. Think you can make a yarn out of it, Asa?”
“I’m going to give it a whirl.”
“Good luck. What’ll the title be?”
“There’s only one appropriate title,” I told him. “The Kissed Corpse.”
Burke chuckled and glanced at Laura, then went out.
“So, it was you who slugged me?” I asked accusingly, taking a shot at random.
“Of course... that is, I had a Free Press reporter do it for me. I had to have that telegram for my exclusive.”
I took a sip of brandy and didn’t look at her. After a little time of silence she asked, low-voiced:
“You hate me, don’t you?”
“No,” I told her honestly, “but somehow I wish I did. It would simplify matters.”
I didn’t know whether she would understand what I meant or not, but I guess she did... for she refilled both our glasses and didn’t say anything.