He pulled up, set the brake, got out of the car and opened the trunk. He took out an old Army trenching tool he had picked up in a Miami store. Then he got the girl over his shoulder and carrying the tool in his hand, he walked across the sand to the nearest high sand dune. He dropped her at the foot of the dune, then straightened to look along the miles of deserted beach. Satisfied he was alone, he knelt beside the girl’s body and began to undress her. This task sickened him, but it had to be done.
Ticky had said, ‘Get all her clothes. They’ll have the College laundry marks on them. We can’t take a chance.’
He had trouble getting her girdle off. He cursed softly, sweat blinding him, as he wrestled with it. Finally, he got it off. Now she was naked. Around her bruised, swollen throat she wore a gold cross on a thin gold chain. He couldn’t leave that on her. He hated touching it. He had been brought up as a Catholic and although nothing of his religion had stuck, the cross reminded him of the church he had gone to as a kid with its blaze of candles, the smell of incense and the throb of the organ.
He dropped the cross into his pocket and made a bundle of her clothes. Then picking up the trenching tool, he climbed up the dune and began shovelling the sand down on the naked, murdered body.
A buzzard circled overhead, its wide wings making a shadow on the sand. It was still circling in ascending spirals long after Algir had finished his gruesome task and had driven away.
At 09.45 hours, Fred Hess walked down the passage that led to Captain Terrell’s office. He rapped on the door, pushed it open and walked into the room.
Terrell was sitting at his desk. Beigler was sitting on the window ledge. Both men were drinking coffee.
‘Well, Fred, what have you got?’ Terrell asked, pushing a carafe of coffee across the desk and waving to a chair.
Hess sat down and helped himself to a cup of coffee before saying, ‘It all points one way, Chief. She killed him and then herself. Lepski has been checking, and here’s what we’ve come up with. Williams went to bed at eight o’clock with a heavy cold. At 10:10 the people across the way thought they heard shots, but weren’t sure. They had their TV set on and it was blaring. The husband, Dixon, looked out of the window to see if there was anything to see. Muriel Devon’s car was parked outside her bungalow. He went back to the programme. As it finished, he heard
Muriel’s car drive away. The doorman at La Coquille saw Muriel arrive in her car. He thought she was pretty drunk, but she was steady enough to walk so he let her in. She arrived at around eleven so she must have driven straight to the restaurant from her place. It would take that time.
The barman says he saw her come in and Edris put her in the end banquette. The barman says he remained behind the bar the whole time and he is certain no one went near the banquette except Edris who served her with a whisky sour. The hypo that killed her carries some blurred fingerprints, one of them, probably all of them, Muriel’s. We haven’t found a thing to make us think she didn’t kill him and then herself.’
Terrell nodded.
‘What did Charmers say about the handwriting on the suicide note?’
‘I gave him the specimens we found in her apartment. The handwriting matches. She also owned the gun. She took out a licence three years ago in New York. It’s a fact Williams was cheating her. He was planning to go off with a Mrs. Van Wilden, a rich old bitch, living at the Palace Hotel. I’ve seen and talked to her.’ Hess made a grimace. ‘When she heard Williams was dead, she had hysterics. She was taking him to the West Indies to manage her estate out there.’ Hess sneered. ‘She had a lucky break, but I didn’t tell her so. Lepski talked around and the neighbours say Williams and Muriel were always fighting. Well, I guess they’ve had their last fight, no loss.’
Terrell finished his coffee.
‘Doc says she died of heroin poisoning. No doubt about that.’ He thought for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Well, I guess we can close the file. This is one of the easy ones.’
‘How about her husband?’ Beigler said. ‘Do you want me to find him?’
‘We’ll want him for the inquest,’ Terrell said. ‘Then there’s the daughter.’ He scratched the side of his jaw. ‘Funny Hamilton hasn’t been around this morning.’
Hess grinned.
‘Browning’s talked to him. He gets so many free meals out of Browning, he’s playing this one down. There’s barely a mention of the shooting and that’s on the back page.’
‘I’m glad for the daughter’s sake,’ Terrell said. ‘See if you can find Devon in the book, Joe.’
Beigler crossed to the shelf of reference books and picked up the telephone book. He flicked through the pages.
‘Here he is. Melville Devon, 1455, Hillside Crescent. Shall I call the house?’
‘Go ahead.’
Beigler put the call through. After a brief delay, a woman’s voice said, ‘This is Mr. Devon’s residence.’
‘City Police,’ Beigler said. ‘Can I talk to Mr. Devon?’
‘He’s not here. You can get him at the bank.’
‘What bank’s that?’
‘The Florida Safe Deposit,’ the woman told him. ‘I can give you the number if you’ll hold on.’
‘That’s okay,’ Beigler said. ‘I can find it, thanks,’ and he hung up. ‘He works at the Florida Safe Deposit Bank,’ he told Terrell.
Terrell frowned, then snapped his fingers.
‘I know the fellow. I didn’t know his first name. I once played golf with him in the Country Club competition. Nice guy. He’s the Vice President of the bank. Important man. Well, what do you know? If Hamilton finds out, even Browning can’t stop him publishing a story. Wife of V.P. of Florida Safe Deposit Bank in murder and suicide tangle! Can you imagine? I’ll handle this, Joe. I’ll call him.’
The telephone bell rang. Beigler picked up the receiver.
‘Ticky Edris asking for the Chief,’ the Desk Sergeant said.
‘Hold it.’ Beigler looked at Terrell. ‘Edris on the line. You want to talk to him?’
Terrell frowned.
‘What does he want?’ He held out his hand for the receiver. When Beigler passed it to him, he said into the mouthpiece, ‘Put him on, Charley.’
Edris came on the line.
‘Captain Terrell?’
‘Yeah. What is it, Edris?’
‘It’s about Norena Devon,’ Edris said in his piping voice. ‘I shouldn’t be bothering you with this, Captain, but I want to trace her father. As a friend of the family, I called the school and Dr. Graham has broken the news to her. She’s on her way home now. She’s very upset. Here’s my problem. There’s no money in the apartment. Of course I can provide for her and I will, but before sticking my neck out, I thought her father should be consulted. He may want to take charge. You see the position I’m in, Captain. I don’t want to put my foot wrong, but I want to be helpful.’
Terrell scratched the side of his jaw as he listened.
‘I’ve located her father, Edris,’ he said finally. ‘I’m going to speak with him right now. For his and his daughter’s sake, the less publicity about all this the better. If you’re such a friend of the family and want to help, you can help. I’m going to talk to the Coroner. It could be fixed that you identify the woman as Muriel Marsh and you give evidence of the relationship between her and Williams. I think the Coroner would agree to leave Norena and her father out of it. It depends on you.’
‘You can count on me, Captain,’ Edris said. ‘I’ll do anything to help. I’m as anxious as you to spare the kid any publicity.’
‘Okay. I’ll talk to Devon and the Coroner. As soon as I know how they feel about it, I’ll telephone you. What’s your number?’