Ed McBain - Puss in Boots

“You’re sure it was Mr. Markham?”

“Positive.”

“You saw him clearly?”

“Plain as day.”

“He was standing at the side door, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“With a hammer in his hand.”

“Yes.”

“He’d just broken the louvered glass panels, isn’t that what you said?”

“Well, if you hear the sound of breaking glass, and you look out your window, and you see someone standing at the door with a hammer in his hand, then you’ve got to figure he’s the one who just broke the glass, don’t you?”

“And that’s just what you figured.”

“That’s just what I figured.”

Another nod. Pleased with herself, pleased with the way she was handling this.

“Did you call over to him?” Matthew asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you open your window and call over to him?”

“No. Why should I? It was a man getting into his own house. I knew who he was, it was none of my business.”

“You didn’t open the window?”

“No.”

“The window was closed, is that right?”

“Yes, it was very chilly that night. It started getting cold down here in October, the end of October. All my windows were closed.”

“But you were able to hear the sound of breaking glass? Even with all your windows closed?”

“I have very good ears, thank you.”

“So when you looked through this closed window, you saw a man facing the door, is that right?”

“I saw Carlton facing the door, yes.”

“With a hammer in his hand.”

“Yes.”

“And he was wearing gray slacks and a blue jacket and a blue straw hat.”

“Yes.”

“Had you ever seen him wearing those clothes before?”

“Except for the hat.”

“You saw him wearing gray slacks and a blue jacket.”

“Oh, sure. Lots of times.”

“Did you ever see him wearing a blue hat?”

“No.”

“Or any kind of a hat?”

“I really can’t say. I didn’t watch Carlton day and night to see what he was wearing.”

“Did you notice the color of his hair?”

“No, he was wearing a hat. I just told you.”

“You know that Mr. Markham is blond, don’t you?”

“Of course I know. I’ve lived next door to him for seven years.”

“Was this man blond?”

“I told you, he was wearing a hat. But he was Carlton, all right. I ought to know Carlton.”

“How can you be so sure it was Mr. Markham?”

“His build, his height, his weight, his posture, the way he was standing, the way he moved — it was Carlton, all right.”

“Did you see his face?”

Mrs. Mason hesitated. She stubbed out her cigarette, lighted a fresh one, blew out a stream of smoke.

“Mrs. Mason? Did you see his face?”

“Yes,” she said.

“When?”

“What do you mean when? I saw him standing there—”

“Yes, but you said he was facing the door, didn’t you? He’d just broken the glass louvers, and was facing the door. I’m assuming that when he reached in to unlock it, he was still—”

“I know I saw his face.”

“When?”

“It was Carlton.”

“Mrs. Mason, did he turn away from the door at any time? Did he turn to look at you? While you were standing at the window?”

“I know it was Carlton.”

“Mrs. Mason, at any time while you were looking at this man, did you clearly see his face?”

“I saw him clearly all the time. He was standing about where the Christmas tree is, only about that far away.”

“I asked if you had clearly seen his face. ”

“If I recognized him as Carlton, then I must have seen his face, isn’t that so?”

“Are you asking me whether or not you saw his face?”

“I’m just saying it’s common sense—”

“You’re saying if you identified the man as Mr. Markham, then you must have seen his face. You’re not saying—”

“That’s right.”

“You’re not saying that you saw his face and were therefore able to identify him as Mr. Markham.”

“That’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Not the same thing at all, Matthew thought. “Mrs. Mason,” he said, “were you wearing your eyeglasses while you were watching television?”

“Yes. And I was wearing them when I saw Carlton, too.”

“Didn’t take them off when you went to the window, did you?”

“I never take them off. They’re bifocals.”

“Are they new glasses?”

“New? I’ve been wearing glasses since I was twelve years old.”

“A new prescription, I meant.”

“If you’re trying to say these are new glasses I wasn’t used to or something, then you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’ve been wearing these same glasses for the past three years now. And I see fine with them, thank you.”

“Mrs. Mason, do you remember if there was a light burning over the Markham kitchen door on the night of the burglary?”

“First off, there wasn’t any burglary. It was Carlton going into his own house. And next, they always left a light on over that door. That’s the door they usually went in by. There’s no garage, just the carport, and they walked right from there to the side door.”

“Is that what Mr. Markham did on the night of the burglary?”

“What do you mean?”

“Walked from the carport to the side door?”

“I don’t know what he did. I only saw him when he was standing there outside the door. And it wasn’t a burglary.”

“Did you see his car? In the carport?”

“I didn’t look for his car.”

“Well, you would have noticed a car if it was there, wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t notice a car. I wasn’t looking for a car.”

“Not Mr. Markham’s car or anyone’s car, is that right?”

“Not any car at all. I heard glass breaking and I looked out toward the side door. I didn’t look toward the carport.”

“Which is close to the side door, isn’t it?”

“Close enough, but I wasn’t looking for a car. I was looking to see who it was broke the glass on that kitchen door.”

“What time did you go to bed that night, Mrs. Mason?”

“Right after the movie went off.”

“Which was when?”

“I don’t know when. It was when the movie went off. Eleven o’clock, I guess.”

“You went directly to bed at eleven o’clock, is that right?”

“Directly to bed, yes.”

“Did you hear a car coming into the Markham driveway at any time after you went to bed?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m a sound sleeper. Fall right off to sleep, and stay dead to the world till morning.”

“You were asleep at eleven-thirty?”

“ Sound asleep.”

“Then you wouldn’t have heard Mr. Markham if he came home at that time.”

“He didn’t come home at that time. He came home around ten-thirty. And broke the glass on his side door. And went into the house.”

“Did you hear any police cars arriving later that night?”

“No.”

“Did you hear Mrs. Markham’s car when she got home later that night?”

“No.”

“All you saw or heard, then, was the sound of breaking glass and a man entering the—”

“It wasn’t just any man,” Mrs. Mason said firmly. “It was Carlton Markham.”

Whose face you never saw, Matthew thought.

A sure indication of progress in the city of Calusa, Florida, was the new sign outside the Public Safety Building. It stated — in bold white letters on a blue field — that this was the police department, a blunt admission for staid Calusa, whose citizens chose to believe their elected place of residence was as crime-free as Eden had been before the serpent did his number.