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in there. Shall I go up the ladder, Sebastian?"
Jack looked at me, and I knew that he and I were thinking the same thing. The
killer had come here first, and there wasn't any hurry now.
"I'll go up the ladder," he said. "We won't have to break the door now. Will
you two guys search the house from attic to cellar and turn all the lights on
and leave them on? And, Brian, you stay here with Miss Roth. Can I borrow your
flashlight, Wheeler?"
I noticed that, by tacit consent, Jack was taking charge of the case and of
the older detectives. Because, I presumed, he was the first one on the scene
and had a better idea what it was all about.
One of the men handed over a flashlight and Jack went out-side. I led Jeanette
into the library.
"Brian," she asked, "do you think Dad is--that something has happened to
Dad?"
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"We'll know for sure in a minute, darling. Why make guesses meanwhile? I
don't know."
But--what happened that made you call me up?"
"Jack and I were playing chess at my place," I told her. "Some-one took a shot
through the window. At me, not at Jack. The bullet went into the wall behind
me and just over my head. I-- well, I had a sudden hunch who might have shot
at me, and if my hunch was right, I thought he'd consider your father his
enemy, too. I'm afraid he may be--mad."
"Alister Cole?"
"Have you noticed anything strange about him?" I asked her.
"Yes. He's always scared me, Brian, the way he's acted. And just last night,
Dad remarked that--"
She broke off, standing there rigidly. Footsteps were coming down the stairs.
That would be Jack, of course. And the fact that he walked so slowly gave us
the news in advance of his coming.
Anyway, when he stood in the doorway, Jeanette asked quietly, "Is he dead?"
and Jack nodded.
Jeanette sat down on the sofa behind her and dropped her head into her hands,
but she didn't cry.
"I'll phone headquarters," Jack said. "But first--you and he were alone in the
house tonight, weren't you, Miss Roth?"
She looked up and her eyes were still dry. "Yes" she said. "Mother's staying
overnight with my aunt--her sister--in town. This is going to hit her hard.
Will you need me here? I--I think it would be best if I were the one to break
it to her. I can dress and be there in half an hour. I can be back in an hour
and a half. Will it be all
right?"
Jack looked at me. "What do you think, Brian? You know this guy Cole and you
know what this is all about. Would Miss Roth be in any danger if she left?"
"You could figure that yourself, Jack," I said. "Cole was here, alone in the
house with her after he killed Dr. Roth, and he had all the time in the world
because there hadn't been an alarm yet. But let me go with her, though, just
to be sure."
He snorted. "Just to be sure--of what?
He after you, my fine friend. Until is we get Cole under lock and key--and
throw away the key--you're not getting out from under my eye."
"All right," I said, "so I'm indispensable. But everybody isn't, and this
place will be full of police in a few minutes. If I'm not mistaken, that
sounds like another squad car coming now. Why not have one of the boys in it
use it to drive Miss Roth over to her aunt's?"
He nodded. "Okay, Miss Roth. I'll stick my neck out--even though
Headquarters may cut it off. And Wheeler and Brach have finished looking
around upstairs, so it'll be okay for you to go to your room if you want to
change that housecoat for a dress."
He went to the front door to let the new arrivals in.
"I'm awfully sorry, Jeanette," I said then. "I know that sounds meaningless,
but-- it's all I can think of to say."
She managed a faint smile. "You're a good egg, Brian. I'll be seeing you."
She held out her hand, and I took it. Then she ran up the stairs. Jack looked
in at the doorway.
"I told the new arrivals to search the grounds," he said. "Not that they'll
find anything, but it'll give 'em something to do. I got to phone
Headquarters. You stay right here."
"Just a second, Jack," I said. "How was he killed?"
"A knife. Messy job. It was a psycho, all right."
"You say messy? Is there any chance Jeanette might go into-- ?"
He shook his head. "Wheeler's watching that door. He wouldn't let her go in.
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Well, I got to phone--"
"Listen, Jack. Tell me one thing. How long, about, has he been dead? I mean,
is there any chance Cole could have come here after he shot at me? I might
have thought of phoning here, or getting here a minute or two sooner. I'd feel
responsible if my slowness in reacting, my dumbness--"
Jack was shaking his head. "I'm no M.E.," he said, "but Roth had been dead
more than a few minutes when I found him. I'd say at least half an hour, maybe
an hour."
He went to the phone and gave the Headquarters number. I heard his voice
droning on, giving them the details of the murder and the attempted murder.
I sat there listening, with my eyes closed, taking in every word of it, but
carefully keeping the elation off my face. It had gone perfectly. Everything
had worked out. Whether or not they caught Alister Cole--and they would catch
him--
nothing could go wrong now. It had come off per-fectly.
I would never be suspected, and I stood to gain a million dollars--and
Jeanette. . . .
She came down the stairs slowly, as one approaching a reluc-tant errand. I
waited for her at the foot of the staircase, my eyes on her beautiful face.
There was shock there, but--as I had expected and was glad to see--not too
much grief. Roth had been a cold, austere man. Not a man to be grieved for
deeply, or long. She stopped on the second step, her eyes level with mine and
only inches away. I wanted to kiss her, but this was not the time. A little
while and I would, I thought.
But I could look now, and I could dream. I could imagine my hand stroking that
soft blonde hair. I could imagine those soft, misty blue eyes closed and my
lips kissing the lids of them, kissing that soft white throat, her yielding
lips. Then--
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