Эрл Гарднер: The Case of the Buried Clock

The deputy sheriff kicked the ground with the toe of his boot. “Doesn’t look to me as if this place had been disturbed since last winter.”

Harley bent over once more to place his ear against the ground.

The deputy sheriff flashed a glance at the coroner’s representative.

“I don’t hear it ticking now,” Harley said.

“You’re certain about that clock?”

Harley flushed. “I had it in my hands, took it out of the box. Adele Blane can vouch for that.”

Jameson seemed reluctant to extend belief. “And it was there this morning?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“After you’d found the body?”

“No, just before I found the body.”

“But after Hardisty had been killed?”

“Oh yes.”

“Well,” the deputy said, in the tone of one who wishes to be rid of a matter which may prove embarrassing, “then Jack Hardisty couldn’t have taken it, and that’s pretty apt to mean it isn’t connected with the murder. Now, how about Hardisty’s car. You haven’t any idea how it got down in that canyon?”

“No.”

“Now, I’m just asking this as a question,” Jameson said. “There’s no call to get up on your ear about it, but it’s a question I want you to answer, and answer truthfully. You won’t have a second chance at this, Raymand. Your answer’s got to stand for all time... You didn’t get on the running board of Jack Hardisty’s automobile, get it going at a good clip, then step off the running board and let the car go over the grade, did you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why did Blane ask you to stay up here at the cabin?”

“He wanted the place watched.”

“Why was that, Mr. Blane?” the deputy asked.

Before Blane could answer, Harley Raymand said, with a smile, “I think it was an attempt on Mr. Blane’s part to be magnanimous. He thought a period of rest and recuperation up here at the cabin would do me good, and he tried to make a job out of it so I wouldn’t feel under obligations to him.”

Blane started to say something, then apparently changing his mind, smiled enigmatically. After a moment he said, “Now if you’ll excuse me, while you’re getting additional details from Harley, I’ll have a chat with Mr. Mason.”

Blane motioned to Mason, and the lawyer, Della Street and Blane walked around the big granite outcropping to a sequestered clearing where they were out of earshot.

“Mr. Mason,” Blane said, “I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am now that you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

“The buried clock did it,” Mason told him. “What do you know about that clock?”

“Harley Raymand mentioned it to me for the first time this morning. Adele confirmed his story. The clock was there, all right.”

“There where he had scraped away the pine needles?” Mason asked.

“Raymand may have mistaken the place,” Blane admitted.

“All right, that can wait. Tell me just what you want me to do and why you want me to do it. Hit the high spots. That deputy will be back here in a minute with more questions.”

Blane spoke with nervous rapidity, all but running his words together, in his anxiety to give Mason the picture.

“Jack Hardisty was my son-in-law — married Millicent. She was a girl who wanted a career — studied nursing. She’s clever — the sort people always praise for their intellect... Then along came Jack Hardisty, handed her a new line — the passionate, fervid, romantic line — swept her off her feet married her. Put him in a bank over at Roxbury — a damned four-flusher, a half-pint of nothing. Been breaking Milicent’s heart, chasing around with a milliner over there — ten thousand short in his accounts — found it out and told him to face the music... Before I could do anything about it, he took a couple of suitcases and cleaned out everything in the bank, nearly ninety thousand altogether. Rang me up, told me if I made good the ten thousand I’d get the rest of it back. If I didn’t, there wouldn’t be a dime in the bank when it opened this morning.”

“What did you do?” Mason asked.

“What could I do?” Blaine asked. “I was stuck for it.”

“How about the bonding company?”

“That’s just it. The bonding company held off on his bond. There’d been a little something in Jack’s past. At the time I thought the bonding company was being too damn technical — told them to go ahead and write the bond, and I’d guarantee they never lost a penny on it — signed a paper to that effect... Damn fool — serves me right.”

“All right. Go ahead.”

“My other daughter, Adele, came up here with Harley Raymand yesterday afternoon. Before they left, Jack Hardisty showed up. He didn’t see them. Raymand says Hardisty had a spade in the car... They started back for Kenvale and met Milicent on the road. She asked if Jack was up here.

“Adele didn’t think much of that until after Milicent had started on for the cabin. Then she got frightened. She told Harley she had another appointment, rushed him to his hotel, turned around and dashed up here to the cabin.”

“After Milicent?” Mason asked.

Blane nodded.

“Find her?”

“Yes.”

“Here at the cabin?”

“No, down by the main highway.”

“What was she doing there?”

“Having a spell of nerves.”

“Where was her husband?”

“No one knows. Milicent hadn’t gone to the cabin. She’d parked her car at a wide place in the road, and started to walk up to the cabin.”

“Why not drive all the way up?”

“She told Adele she didn’t want her husband to hear her coming.”

“Did she say why?”

“No.”

“All right, she didn’t get to the cabin?”

“No, her nerves went back on her. She must have had hysterics. She had a gun in her purse. She dropped it over the embankment at the edge of the road.”

“Why?”

“She told Adele she was afraid to trust herself with it.”

“Afraid she’d use it on herself, or on someone else?”

“I don’t think she said.”

“And Adele didn’t ask?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Revolver or automatic?”

“Revolver.”

“Hers?”

“Yes. It’s one I gave her. She was nervous and had to stay alone a lot at night. Her husband was away a lot of the time.”

“All right. She threw the gun away. Then what?”

“Adele got her to promise to go on back to Kenvale and stay with her.”

“Did she do it?”

“No.”

“Why not. What happened?”

“We don’t know. Adele drove on in her car. Milicent was right behind until they got to Kenvale. Then in the traffic, Adele lost her. It was getting dark and the headlights had been turned on. That makes it hard to watch a car behind, after you get in traffic.”

“Adele lost her — so what? Did Milicent go to your house?”

“No. So far as I can learn, no one has seen her. Adele was watching the car in the rear-view mirror — other headlights cut in, and — well that’s all.”

“To whom has Adele told this?” Mason asked.

“I am the only one, so far. We want to know—”

Mason interrupted. “The deputy’s getting ready to come back over this way. Does anyone know Milicent is missing?”

“No.”

“When will they find out?”

“It may be some time... I told Adele to tell the housekeeper Milicent was hysterical last night, that Adele gave her a sleeping tablet and put her to bed in the back bedroom upstairs — that Milicent isn’t to be disturbed by anyone. That will stall things along until we can find her.”

Mason said, “I’m not certain that what you’ve done is for Milicent’s best interest.”