Эллери Куин - The Devil To Pay

He nodded at his men, and two of them followed him out of the apartment. The third man set his back against the open door and just stood there, shifting from one foot to another from time to time, as if he were tired.

Val cowered against her supporting wall in the foyer, unable to move, to think. Rhys got up from the chair in the living-room and turned to go into his bathroom.

“Hold it,” said the detective at the door.

Rhys looked at him. Then he sat down again.

“Hullo,” said a voice from the corridor.

Pink went to the door and dug his elbow into the detective’s abdomen, and the detective shoved his arm angrily away. Pink saw the two other detectives leaning against the balustrade of the emergency stairway which led down to the lobby. They were no more than five feet from the door, and they returned his glance without expression.

“Hullo,” said the same voice.

Pink looked through him. It was Fitzgerald, of the Independent .

The detective at the door said: “Nobody in.”

Fitz’s eyes under their bird’s-nest brows roved, took in Val before him, Rhys sitting motionless in the living-room. “I see they’re keeping the death-watch here. Come on, Mac, this is the press.”

“You heard him,” said Pink, stepping up to him.

“I got a tip from some one I know at Headquarters,” said Fitz. “It seems— Come on, mugg, out of the way.”

The detective at the door closed his eyes. Pink said: “Get the hell out of here.”

“Rhys,” called Fitz. “I want to talk to you. This is serious, Rhys. Maybe I can give you a right steer—”

Pink put his broad palm on Fitz’s chest and pushed, stepping through the doorway.

The man at the door did not open his eyes, and the two detectives across the hall did not move.

“Do you want a sock in the teeth,” said Pink, “or will you go nice and quiet, like a good little man?”

Fitz laughed. He lashed out with his fist. Pink sidestepped and brought his left up in a short arc. Fitz grunted. He had been drinking, and droplets of alcoholic saliva sprayed Pink’s face.

“Here, stop that,” said one of the men leaning against the balustrade. “Do your brawlin’ outside.”

Pink grabbed Fitz by the seat of his pants and ran him down the stairs.

Val trudged into the living-room and sat down on the floor by Rhys’s knee. She rested her cheek on it.

“I don’t think we have much time,” said Rhys in a very low voice. “Val, listen to me.”

“Yes, pop.”

“Glücke will be back soon.” He glanced cautiously at the detective in the doorway. “Maybe in five minutes, maybe in an hour. But whenever he comes back it will be with a warrant for my arrest.”

Val shivered. “But he can’t do that. You didn’t do it. You couldn’t have done it. You were right here—”

“Val, he’ll hear you.” Rhys bent low over her face, speaking into her ear. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The police — no one — must find out about that alibi.”

Val felt her forehead. It was hard to think.

“I’m in no danger,” whispered Rhys. “The Austin girl will testify at any time that I was in the La Salle lobby when Spaeth was murdered. Don’t you see?”

“Yes,” said Val. “Yes.”

“And there’s at least one vital reason why I must let Glücke arrest me, puss... No, don’t make any noise, Val. That detective mustn’t hear.”

Val sank back, her face drawn, her eyes screwed up. They felt hot, brittle, sore; they felt like her brain.

“I don’t— I can’t seem to—”

“I think,” whispered Rhys, “I’m in danger.” He held her shoulders down. “I’ve just thought the whole thing through. Some one planted the sword and coat in our closet tonight, tipped the Inspector off that they were here. Whoever did that is framing me for the murder .”

“No,” said Val. “No!”

“It must be, Val; it’s the only reasonable explanation. So that means some one not only hated Spaeth, but hates me, too. He killed Spaeth and is taking his revenge on me by framing me for the crime.”

“No!”

“Yes, puss. And if I produce my alibi now and the police clear me, what happens? The maniac who’s doing all this, seeing that his frame-up has failed, will be more determined than ever to have his revenge. If he finds he can’t get the law to kill me, he’s liable to kill me himself. He committed murder once; why shouldn’t he do it again?”

There’s something behind this, thought Val. It’s all mixed up and there’s something behind it.

“I’ll be safe in jail, safer than here. Don’t you see?” Something... “And there’s another reason.” Rhys paused. “It’s Walter. If I produce my alibi now, Val, he’ll be directly involved in the crime.” Walter. That’s it. That’s what’s behind it. Walter. “The police will learn he was wearing my coat. He certainly had a motive of revenge against his father — being cut out of the will. They’ll find out he was in that house at the time of the crime. They’re bound to find it out — if we let them know about my alibi.”

“But how—?”

“Don’t you see, puss?” he said patiently. “My alibi depends on the testimony of this Austin girl. She can place me in this lobby at the time of the crime, all right; but she also knows that it’s tied up with that telephone call to the Spaeth house. And she spoke directly to Walter. The merest questioning on the part of the police would bring that out. We’ve got to see that she isn’t questioned.”

“No,” said Val. “I won’t let you do it. You’ve got to tell them about the alibi. You mustn’t sacrifice yourself—”

“Walter didn’t kill his father, Val. He isn’t the killing kind. I’m protected, but he’s not. Don’t you see?”

“I see. I see that I’m smaller than the smallest wiggly thing that crawls. And you’re so big, so warm, so dear.”

Rhys tilted her face. “Val, you’ve got to trust my judgment in this.”

Val shivered again. Her tongue seemed tied up in knots.

“There’s one other thing. I think I’ve got a clue that may lead somewhere. While I’m in jail covering Walter up you’ll have to follow that clue, Val. Do you understand? We’ve got to find out who killed Spaeth before we talk!” Val turned her head slowly. “Listen, Val. Only this morning—”

“All right, Jardin,” said Inspector Glücke.

Val jumped up. Rhys sat still.

The three detectives were in the room with Glücke, one of them looking hard at Pink, who was marking time, restlessly and unconsciously, with his feet, as if to inaudible music.

“So soon?” said Rhys with a faint smile.

“I had my fingerprint man waiting downstairs,” said the Inspector. “Interested? Blood-stains on your coat. Your fingerprints, among others, on the rapier. And Bronson, who’s also with me, says that the tip of the rapier is coated with blood and that molasses-and-cyanide goo. Have you anything to say, Jardin?”

“Will you get me my hat and coat, Pink, like a good fellow?” said Rhys, rising.

Pink went blindly into the foyer. Rhys put his arms about Valerie.

“See me tomorrow,” he whispered into her ear. “The old code. Remember? We may not be able to talk. The clue may be important, Goodbye, Val. Talk to the Austin girl tonight.”

“Goodbye,” said Val, her lips feeling rusty and stiff.

“Thanks, Pink,” said Rhys, turning around. “Take care of Val.”

Pink made a strangled sound. Rhys kissed Val’s cold cheek and stepped back. Pink helped him on with his coat, handed him his hat.

“Come on,” said Inspector Glücke.

Two of the detectives grasped Rhys’s elbows and marched him out of the apartment.