“I will be, Mike,” he said. His voice lacked color, but it rang earnestly. “Dad wanted me to excel in everything. He often told me that a man never lived long enough to accomplish nearly anything he was capable of because it took too long to learn the fundamentals. That’s why he wanted me to know all these things while I was young. Then when I was a doctor or a scientist maybe I would be ahead of myself, sort of.”
He was better as long as he could talk. Let him get it out of his system, I thought. It’s the only way. “You’ve done fine, kid. I bet he was proud of you.”
“Oh, he was. I only wish he could have been able to make his report.”
“What report?”
“To the College of Scientists. They meet every five years to turn in reports, then one is selected as being the best one and the winner is elected President of the College for a term. He wanted that awfully badly. His report was going to be on me.”
“I see,” I said. “Maybe Miss Grange will do it for him.”
I shouldn’t have said that. He looked up at me woefully. “I don’t think she will, not after the police find her.”
It hit me right between the eyes. “Who’s been telling you things, kid?”
“The policemen were here this morning. The big one made us all tell where we were last night and everything. Then he told us about Miss Grange.”
“What about her?”
“They found her car down by the creek. They think she drowned herself.”
I could have tossed a brick through a window right then. “Harvey!” I yelled. “Hey, Harvey.”
The butler came in on the double. “I thought I asked you to wake me up when the police got here. What the hell happened?”
“Yes, sir. I meant to, but Officer Dilwick suggested that I let you sleep. I’m sorry, sir, it was more an order than a request.”
So that was how things stood. I’d get even with that fat slob. “Where is everybody?”
“After the police took their statements he directed the family to return to their own homes. Miss Malcom and Parks are bringing Mr. York’s car home. Sergeant Price wished me to tell you that he will be at the headquarters on the highway this evening and he would like to see you.”
“I’m glad someone would like to see me,” I remarked. I turned to Ruston. “I’m going to leave, son. How about you go to your room until Roxy . . . I mean Miss Malcom gets here? Okay?”
“All right, Mike. Why did you call her Roxy?”
“I have pet names for everybody.”
“Do you have one for me?” he asked, little lights dancing in his eyes.
“You bet.”
“What?”
“Sir Lancelot. He was the bravest of the brave.”
As I walked out of the room I heard him repeat it softly. “Sir Lancelot, the bravest of the brave.”
I reached the low fieldstone building set back from the road at a little after eight. The sky was threatening again, the air chilly and humid. Little beads of sweat were running down the windshield on the side. A sign across the drive read, STATE POLICE HEADQUARTERS, and I parked beside it.
Sergeant Price was waiting for me. He nodded when I came in and laid down the sheaf of papers he was examining. I threw my hat on an empty desk and helped myself to a chair. “Harvey gave me your message,” I said. “What’s the story?”
He leaned back in the swivel seat and tapped the desk with a pencil. “We found Grange’s car.”
“So I heard. Find her yet?”
“No. The door was open and her body may have washed out. If it did we won’t find it so easily. The tide was running out and would have taken the body with it. The river runs directly into the bay, you know.”
“That’s all supposition. She may not have been in the car.”
He put the pencil between his teeth. “Every indication points to the fact that she was. There are clear tire marks showing where the car was deliberately wrenched off the road before the guardrails to the bridge. The car was going fast, besides. It landed thirty feet out in the water.”
“That’s not what you wanted to see me about?” I put in.
“You’re on the ball, Mr. Hammer.”
“Mike. I hate titles.”
“Okay, Mike. What I want is this kidnapping deal.”
“Figuring a connection?”
“There may be one if Grange was murdered.”
I grinned. “You’re on the ball yourself.” Once again I went over the whole story, starting with Billy’s call when he was arrested. He listened intently without saying a word until I was finished.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Somebody’s going to a lot of trouble.”
“Do you smell a correlation between the two?”
I squinted at him. “I don’t know . . . yet. That kidnapping came at the wrong time. A kidnapper wants money. This one never got away with his victim. Generally speaking, it isn’t likely that a second try would be made on the same person, but York wanted the whole affair hushed up ostensibly for fear of the publicity it would bring. That would leave the kid open again. It is possible that the kidnapper, enraged at having his deal busted open, would hang around waiting to get even with York and saw his chance when he took off at that hour of the morning to see Grange.”
Price shook out a cig from his pack and offered me one. “If that was the case, money would not have been the primary motive. A kidnapper who has muffed his snatch wants to get far away fast.”
I lit up and blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling. “Sounds screwed up, doesn’t it?” He agreed. “Did you find out that York didn’t have long to live anyway?”
He seemed startled at the change of subject. “No. Why?”
“Let’s do it this way,” I said. “York was on the list. He had only a few years at best to live. At the bottom of every crime there’s a motive no matter how remote, and nine times out of ten that motive is cold, hard cash. He’s got a bunch of relations that have been hanging around waiting for him to kick the bucket for a long time. One of them might have known that his condition was so bad that any excitement might knock him off. That one arranges a kidnapping, then when it fails takes direct action by knocking off York, making it look like Grange did it, then kills Grange to further the case by making it appear that she was a suicide in a fit of remorse.”
Price smiled gently. “Are you testing me? I could shoot holes in that with a popgun. Arranging for a kidnapping means that you invite blackmail and lose everything you tried to get. York comes into it somewhere along the line because he was searching for something in that apartment. Try me again.”
I laughed. “No good. You got all the answers.”
He shoved the papers across the desk to me. “There are the statements of everybody in the house. They seem to support each other pretty well. Nobody left the house according to them so nobody had a chance to knock off York. That puts it outside the house again.”
I looked them over. Not much there. Each sheet was an individual statement and it barely covered a quarter of the page. Besides a brief personal history was the report that once in bed, each person had remained there until I called them into the living room that morning.
I handed them back. “Somebody’s lying. Is this all you got?”
“We didn’t press for information although Dilwick wanted to. Who lied?”
“Somebody. Billy Parks told me he heard someone come downstairs during the night.”
“Could it have been you?”
“No, it was before I followed York.”
“He made no mention of it to me.”
“Probably because he’s afraid somebody will refute it if he does just to blacken him. I half promised him I’d check on it first.”
“I see. Did York take you into his confidence at any time?”
“Nope. I didn’t know him that long. After the snatch he hired me to stick around until he was certain his son was safe.”