Тимоти Уилльямз - Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 126, No. 3 & 4. Whole No. 769 & 770, September/October 2005

“She was my wife,” he said, getting up slowly from the ground.

“I didn’t do it!” Nation insisted, speaking for the first time. “I didn’t even know she was dead until I just heard it on the radio.”

Chief Newby took out a pair of handcuffs. “I think I’d better take you in for questioning. It’ll be safer for all concerned.”

“You don’t need those. I’ll come with you.”

“Perhaps we should all come with you,” Ellery suggested. “It might help straighten things out.”

Back at the new police station across from the county courthouse, they crowded into Chief Newby’s office. Sam Nation had gotten a shirt from somewhere to cover his bare chest. He was seated next to Newby, and the others were careful to avoid being too close to him. Ellery sat next to Wagner Collins on a wooden bench. The banker’s weapon, shy of its bullets, now rested on the chief’s desk. Marge and Wayne were together on a second bench, and Polly Watkins had wheeled a stenographer’s chair in from the outer office.

“Mr. Queen believes he has some information on this case,” Chief Newby began. “He’s quite the New York detective, as you know.”

Ellery cleared his throat. “Before I begin, I’d like to make one telephone call. May I use the phone in the outer office?”

“Go ahead,” Newby told him.

Ellery returned after a few moments and resumed his seat. “I just had to confirm one detail,” he told them. “Now I’m ready to tell you who killed Janice Collins.”

“We know who killed her,” Wagner growled, ready to spring across the chief’s desk at Sam Nation’s throat.

“Don’t be too sure. Remember there were three of us here who actually heard the killing take place over the telephone — her sister Marge, Marge’s husband Wayne, and myself.”

“I’ll never forget hearing it,” Marge said softly.

“Neither will I,” Ellery agreed, “speaking to her killer as he swung the weapon at her head, while her mantel clock chimed twice in the background. I’d noticed yesterday that the chime came exactly on the hour.”

“Get to the point if you have one,” Chief Newby urged.

“Well, my point is that when we were out there this afternoon, after the killing, the clock chimed a couple of minutes before the hour. It couldn’t have gained that much time overnight. Mantel clocks are usually battery-operated or wind-up to avoid the necessity for a cord. Even if there was a cord and a brief power failure, or a low battery, the clock might have been two minutes slow, but it couldn’t be fast unless someone had changed the hands. I asked myself why someone would do that, and I could think of only one possible explanation — so the clock would chime twice while Janice was on the phone to her sister.

“But at first that made no sense at all. It chimed twice because it was exactly two o’clock when she called the cell phone in Wayne’s pocket. Why would the clock need to be changed when that was the correct time? But what if, I asked myself, it wasn’t the correct time? What if the killer changed the time so it would seem to be two o’clock when Janice was killed?”

Chief Newby threw up his hands in exasperation. “What are you trying to say, Queen? All three of you heard the clock chime two during that phone call, and you said the time was in fact two o’clock.”

“Then what possible advantage could that be to the killer? I can think of only one — to establish an alibi for the exact moment of the killing. What we heard on that cell phone wasn’t a phone call at all; it was a recording. Of the three of us who heard it, I could eliminate myself. That left only two — Marge and Wayne Henneset here — who could be trying to establish an alibi.”

Wayne was on his feet. “What are you trying to say, that my wife would kill her own sister?”

“No,” Ellery replied, “because if the phone call was really a recording, the killer had to be in a position to answer it at exactly the right time — a few seconds before the clock chimed the hour. The phone was in your pocket, Henneset, and we didn’t hear it ring. You said it vibrated, removed it from your pocket, and pressed a button, not to answer it but to play a recording, holding it so we’d both hear it.”

“That’s insane! What possible motive would I have for killing Janice?”

“When I was sitting in the backseat with your golf clubs, I noticed how clean the irons were, with none of the dirt or grass stains one usually sees. Most golfers clean their clubs at home, if they clean them at all. I wondered where you might have been if you weren’t playing golf. At Janice’s house? Perhaps you’d been there more than once when Marge thought you were on the golf course.”

The color had drained from Marge Henneset’s face. “Wayne,” she whispered. “You and Janice—?”

“You had just come from killing her when you saw me on the street and picked me up. It was a lucky break for you because I would be present to strengthen your alibi. Perhaps you wanted to break off the affair and Janice was threatening to confess everything to her sister. The arrival of her former lover with the carnival provided you with a perfect suspect. You might even have checked his movements and learned he was alone in his trailer at that time, without an alibi. You killed Janice shortly before two o’clock, close enough so the coroner wouldn’t notice any discrepancy in the time of death. You’d previously advanced her mantel clock to a minute before two and used the recorder built into your cell phone — the ‘voice memo’ feature most cell phones have these days — to capture her dying words as the clock chimed. That’s when she asked what you were doing and you delivered the fatal blow to her head. If she’d spoken your name, the plan wouldn’t have worked, but she didn’t. You turned her clock back to the proper time. Only in your haste you made it a few minutes fast. Just before two o’clock you told us your phone was vibrating, removed it from your pocket, and punched the last of the menu options needed to get the ‘voice memo’ to play back. That’s how we heard Janice’s dying words.”

“How do you intend to prove any of this?” Henneset challenged, ignoring his ashen-faced wife.

“You needed a weapon to kill her and I doubt if you entered her house with a hammer in your hand. It would have been something that looked more natural under the circumstances. Something like one of those golf drivers that could be returned to your bag and covered with a sock.”

That was when Wayne Henneset lost control and leaped for Ellery’s throat.

Polly Watkins got her story and Ellery suffered only minor bruising before Chief Newby had the handcuffs on Henneset. It was only later that she remembered to ask him, “Who was it you had to call before you solved it for us?”

Ellery merely smiled. “Even the best deductions need to be confirmed sometimes. I phoned the country club and asked if Wayne had played golf there today. He hadn’t.”

Copyright (c); 2005 by Edward D. Hoch.

Michael Z. Lewin’s “Lunghi Family” private-eye series began in EQMM before the author had even considered writing books about them. But he did subsequently publish two books in the series. (See Family Business and Family Planning. ) Another Lewin series you’ll enjoy is that starring Albert Samson. Booklist says of the latest entry, Eye Opener (Five Star 12/04), “savor this one. It’s an emotional roller coaster... but it’s not to be missed.”

Gina was alone in the office when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Normally the sound would have pleased her. Not many clients came off the street to the Lunghi Detective Agency, but those who did usually provided more interesting cases than the bread-and-butter work from the legal profession. Beggars and private detectives may not be choosers, but a little jam now and then is good for everyone.