“Why?” she whispered.
“I don’t know what they got, but they got something that makes them think you could have been in that number ten cottage. It makes the whole thing look different, and Lobwohl is tricky. He could fake you out and maybe put you in real trouble.”
He turned away from her and said loudly, “These things take a little time. We appreciate your cooperation, Mrs. Harkinson.”
“I just want to get it over and get out of here, Barney. I wish they were all as nice as you.”
“I say live and let live,” Scheff said, and winked at her again. She was staring at him and though she was smiling he was aware of cold speculation, of that kind of suspicion which will never accept a cop at face value. “I’ll go see if I can hurry it up some.”
A few minutes later they came back in, Lobwohl, Scheff, Kindler, the clerk with the tape recorder, and the clerk with the stenotype. They seated themselves around the oblong table as before, and Lobwohl smiled disarmingly at her, and read the identifications and date and time into the record before saying, “Once again, Mrs. Harkinson, I wish to establish for the record that you are here voluntarily, that there are no charges against you, that you are here out of a willingness to help us in our investigation of the death of Garry Staniker. You have been apprised of your right to have your attorney present if you so choose. Am I correct in saying that this is your understanding?”
“Yes sir.”
“And do you wish to have an attorney present at this time?”
“No sir.”
“Then I would like to get back to your recollection of what Staniker told you over the phone.”
“Some of it was over the phone, and some of it was in person.”
“I don’t quite understand.”
“When a person does a dumb stupid thing, you kind of hate to admit it to anybody, right? I told you I was frightened of Garry and what he might do. But I decided I could maybe — run a bluff. I guess that when you don’t tell the police the whole story, it just gets you in trouble. So I guess I better tell you now to clear the air. Friday night I went to that grubby cottage. I had a horrible time even finding it. I thought that the more I refused to see him, the more he’d keep bothering me. I didn’t want him coming to my home, so I thought that if I went to him and told him right out that I didn’t ever want to see him again, it might put an end to it. I guess I was thinking that he was like a mean dog. If you don’t look or act scared, they’ll leave you alone — you hope.”
“Did it work?”
“God, no! It was a vile experience. It was suffocatingly hot in that crummy little cottage. He was half tight. If his burns hadn’t still been hurting him, I know I wouldn’t have been able to fight him off. He said ugly things to me. He showed me a check he had gotten from Banner something or other, to tell his story of the accident in the Bahamas. He told me how important he was going to be. He said they were going to make a movie and he was going to play the lead. I begged him to stop bothering me. He said he’d think about it. He said no woman had ever walked out on him and no woman ever would. He said he always did the walking out. On the way home I decided I’d better go away for a while, just pack a bag and get in my car and go. I thought I’d go Saturday afternoon, but I had to get the car fixed and it wasn’t done in time, so I had my maid lock the gates and I told her that if he came around, she should tell him I’d gone away. As a matter of fact, when you two men came to talk to me, I had no idea Garry was dead, and I was going out to do some errands, and then I was going to leave today in the late afternoon, or at least by tomorrow morning.”
“Were you at that cottage long?”
“I got there at midnight. I think I was home by three in the morning. It was sort of spur of the moment. I’ve had better ideas, believe me. But I really think going away for a while would have solved the problem. He would have had to get busy on that contract he signed.”
“Did he give you any idea why he registered under a false name?”
“I think he was worried about somebody close to the Kayds or the Boylston girl thinking he had lost the yacht because of carelessness or incompetence, and coming after him to beat him up.”
“And that was the only time you were ever in that cottage?”
“Being there once wouldn’t give you any reasons to want to go back.”
“What rooms were you in?”
“The bedroom and the bathroom. Oh, and I sat in the living room a while. Why are you asking me that? Oh, I see! Wow, even though it so happens I can prove I never left the house Sunday night, it would look pretty strange if you found evidence I was in the cottage. I guess I had a good motive, too. But I couldn’t do anything like that. I really couldn’t. Blood. I’m the kind who can prick a finger with a needle and faint dead away.”
“A lab unit has collected every scrap of possible evidence from that cottage, Mrs. Harkinson. There is a fresh palm print which was dusted and photographed. From the size and characteristics, it seems to be a female hand. It was on the rim of the tub. How could your palm print, if it is yours, have gotten there?”
She looked puzzled. “On the bathtub? I don’t see how that could be mine. Oh! Just a minute. On the far side of the tub, next to the wall? If that’s where it is, I know how it happened. He made me cry. I went into the bathroom to repair the damage. I was standing at the sink. He came to the doorway and gave me one hell of a shove.” She stood up and backed away from the table and showed them a bruise on the outside of her right knee. “I went staggering back and hit my leg against the tub and I would have tumbled right in if I hadn’t sort of turned in time and stuck my hand back and caught that far edge.” She sat down again. “Is that where the print was?”
“Would you voluntarily let us take a palm print, Mrs. Harkinson.”
“I don’t think so.”
“We wouldn’t require fingerprints also.”
“I think that if the police are asking you to give them prints and all, then there ought to be charges or something, and I ought to have a lawyer. I mean you seem to be asking a hell of a lot, and I’m getting sick of this place.”
“I believe we’re through now.”
“And I can go?”
“Any minute, just as soon as we bring in the statement from the first series of questions for you to read over and sign. They might be ready now, in fact. Why don’t you all wait here and I’ll go check on it right now.”
“I’ll go see,” Scheff said and hurried out. He found Tuck working at a desk in the bull pen. Tuck, a slight, sallow man with heavy bags under his eyes, was pecking out a report.
“We’re about to hit her with phase three,” Scheff said.
“How are you making it?”
“Like nowhere. By now she is probably the only person in Dade County who doesn’t know about the dead kid. What did you get?”
“We didn’t get a thing until we split the Akards up. Then after a lot of hemming and hawing, she told me that she hadn’t dared tell the kid’s old man, but a week or so ago when she had fought with the kid about his attitude, he admitted he was getting it from an older woman. He said she was twenty-eight. He wouldn’t tell his old lady who it was. Some girl saw the Akard kid in his sailboat with the Harkinson woman, evidently, and told the girlfriend the kid had dropped when he got tangled up with Harkinson, and the girlfriend told his old lady. It gave her enough to pry it out of him, but she didn’t dare tell his old man.” He shook his head. “It’s days like this, Barney baby. Those are good people. Their life from today on is lousy. There better be a special corner of hell reserved for kids who kill themselves, and for the Crissy Harkinsons. Is she getting edgy at all?”