“I’ve made a mess of everything,” Christine said, and Teddy leaned closer, watching the lips, nodding slightly to let Christine know she was listening.
“I haven’t known Cotton very long,” Christine said. “Oh, perhaps a year — but that isn’t very long as relationships go. He came into my bookshop once, tracking down some typing paper that had been used in a warning note. I have a bookshop in Isola.” She paused. “He asked me out, and I accepted. I’ve been seeing him.” She paused again. “I’m a widow, you know. Not a Professional Widow, the way some girls are Professional Virgins or Professional Mothers. My husband was a pilot during the Second World War. He crashed over Okinawa. It took me a long time to get over it, but the dead are dead, and the living must go on. So I’m not a Professional Widow, Teddy. I haven’t been wearing sackcloth and rolling about in the ashes. But... it was hard to fall in love again. It was hard to find any man who could live up to the memory of Greg. And then Cotton came along...”
Teddy nodded.
“And I fell in love again.” She paused. “I don’t think he loves me. In fact, I’m almost sure he doesn’t. I really don’t think Cotton is ready yet to become really involved with any woman. But I love him. And it’s enough to be near him, and to be wanted by him. For now, that’s enough.” Again she paused. “I did a stupid thing today. I tried to make him jealous, and I think I may have lost him. Cotton isn’t a man who can be pushed. Teddy, Teddy, what shall I do? What the hell shall I do?”
She fumbled for the purse in her lap as the tears sprang to her eyes. Snapping it open, she dug into it, expecting the familiar feel of her own bag, surprised when her hands struck something hard and unyielding. She stared into the purse.
A Smith & Wesson.357 Magnum stared back at her.
“They’re on their way over, Steve,” Kling said as he hung up the phone. “I explained the situation to them. They’re coming in through the next street.”
“Good,” Carella said. He turned back to Sam Jones. “Now, let’s do some serious talking, shall we, Jonesy?”
Jonesy nodded. His face was still white. His hands were still trembling in his lap.
“First of all, Jonesy, would you mind telling me where you went this afternoon when you left Tommy’s house for your alleged walk?”
“Alleged?”
“Yes. Alleged. Where did you go?”
“Why?”
“Because somebody sawed through a rod connected to the steering tube of the Cadillac and we had an accident that damn near killed everybody in the car. That’s why, Jonesy.”
“I thought that accident—”
“What did you think?”
“I thought it was just an accident.”
“It wasn’t. And you were conveniently out of the car at the time. Buying cigarettes, remember? Even though Tommy offered you his.”
“You don’t think...”
“All I want to know is where you went on your walk, that’s all.”
“I don’t really remember. I was very nervous. I just walked.”
“Where?”
“I came out of the house and walked. I must have walked about half a mile. Then I turned back.”
“Meet anyone while you were walking?”
“No.”
“Stop any place?”
“No.”
“Then we have only your word for your whereabouts during the time that tie rod could have been sawed through.”
“I suppose... if you put it that way...”
“How would you put it, Jonesy?”
“Why would I want to... why would I want to do a crazy thing like that?”
In a deadly flat voice, Carella said, “Tommy has a will leaving everything he owns to you.”
“That? For Pete’s sake, what the hell does he own?”
“What does he own, Jonesy?”
“How do I know? He’s not a rich man, that’s for sure. If he dies, there might be some money on his GI insurance policy. And he’s got a 1958 Buick and probably a small savings account. But that’s all that I know of.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about it.”
“Well, I’m his best friend. Why shouldn’t I know? Besides, this isn’t something a man would keep hidden. God, you don’t think I’d try to kill Tommy — Tommy! My best friend! — for a few thousand dollars, do you?”
“It’s been done for less,” Carella said. “With best friends. With husbands and wives. With mothers and sons. Some people like money, Jonesy.”
“Yeah, but... you’re on the wrong track. I could never do a thing like that.”
“There’s Tommy’s will.”
“He’s married now. He’ll change that as soon as he comes back from his honeymoon.”
“Which might be a damn good reason for killing him now,” Kling said.
“Look, you guys are crazy,” Jonesy said. “I wouldn’t. I just wouldn’t do a thing like that. You think I could kill Birnbaum? A nice old guy I’ve known since I was a kid? You think I could do a thing like that?”
“Somebody did a thing like that,” Carella said.
“But not me. Why would I want to?” He paused and studied the detectives. “For Pete’s sake, would I kill the only living witness to those wills? Does that make any sense to you?”
“He’s got a point, Steve,” Kling said.
“Look, I’m telling you,” Jonesy said. “I had nothing to do with either Birnbaum’s—”
There was a frantic knocking at the door. Christine Maxwell did not wait for anyone to open it. She threw it open and burst into the room waving the Magnum.
“I found this in my purse,” she said. “Not my purse. A girl took mine by accident. In the ladies’ room. She left this one. I thought it was...”
“Slow down,” Carella said.
“... my bag, and I opened it to get a hanky, and this was inside.” She waved the gun again.
“Stop waving that damn thing, it may be loaded!” Carella shouted, and he took the gun from her. Then he nodded. “This is it, Bert,” he said. He sniffed the barrel. “We won’t have to look any further for the gun that killed Birnbaum.” He turned to Christine. “You said this was in your purse?”
“No. I only thought it was my purse. A blonde girl was in the ladies’ room with me. She must have taken my bag by mistake. She left this one.”
“A blonde?” Kling said.
“Yes.”
“What did she look like?”
“A very big girl,” Christine said, “in a red silk dress.”
“Ouch!” Kling said. “I was dancing with her before dinner.”
“Let’s find her,” Carella said, and he started for the door.
“She’s probably a million miles—” Kling started, and at that moment Tommy Giordano came breathlessly into the bedroom.
“Steve!” he said. “Steve, I’m... I’m going out of my mind with worry.”
“What is it?” Carella asked.
“It’s Angela! I can’t find her anywhere. She’s gone!”
Chapter 11
There was the strong smell of cigar smoke.
There was a long shaft of light far away, and a silhouette filling the piercing beam.
There was pain, excruciating pain that throbbed and vibrated and sang with a thousand shrill voices.