Brett Halliday - Murder and the Married Virgin

Quinlan slowly sank back in his chair and put his cigar in his mouth. He said, “Now, by God-” in a low, stifled voice.

“There’s just one question I want to ask you, Lomax,” Shayne interrupted. “Whose idea was it to put that insulating material around the hot-air pipes in the basement?”

Lomax looked up at Shayne, completely surprised. “That was Neal’s idea. He suggested it Wednesday afternoon, and explained that fuel would be greatly conserved. I thought it was fine of him to offer to do the work himself-”

“That’s all I want,” Shayne cut in.

He turned to Quinlan and said grimly, “Bring Neal Jordan in here.”

Lomax looked at Shayne quizzically.

Quinlan hesitated and started to expostulate angrily, but the look on Shayne’s face checked him. He flipped a button and said into the mouthpiece, “Bring Jordan in here.”

Neal Jordan’s face was flushed from sweating and the heat from the bright lights. He smiled pleasantly when he stepped inside the doorway. His smile faded when he saw his employer sitting there with a stricken look on his ashen face.

He said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Lomax. I wasn’t going to tell them until-” He paused, and in loud ringing voice continued, “Until they told me about Katrin. I couldn’t stomach that.”

Lomax’s eyes were weary and confused. He drew a hand across his forehead and said, “I don’t know. I simply don’t know.”

“The hell you don’t,” Shayne burst out. “You’ve known all along but you wouldn’t let yourself believe it.”

Lomax tightened his bloodless lips and gave him a hurt look.

“I don’t know whether you realized how the murder of Katrin Moe was accomplished or not,” Shayne said quietly. “But you must have known it was murder and you kept your mouth shut. You were sitting on top of a volcano, weren’t you? You knew what was going on between your wife and Neal Jordan, and you closed your eyes to it. You were careful to keep any money out of her hands because you were afraid she might run off with him-and as soon as the necklace vanished you knew she’d stolen it to collect the insurance.”

“No.” Lomax forced the word out. “The necklace was hers. Why would she steal it to collect the insurance? She could have sold it if she wanted money.”

“You’re forgetting it was synthetic. Not worth more than a few grand.”

“But she didn’t know that,” Lomax protested. “I’m sure she didn’t. If she’d tried to sell it secretly and found out about the substitution I would have heard about it-and in no uncertain terms.”

Shayne nodded. “That’s one of the angles that’s had me stopped all the time,” he admitted. “Knowing that gems have gone up in value since you bought the necklace. Why would anybody be anxious to collect a hundred and twenty-five thousand insurance when the necklace itself would bring so much more today in the legitimate market?”

“It’s still got me stopped,” Quinlan said harshly. “Unless Lomax stole it-”

“Lomax didn’t steal it. Don’t forget that he was willing to pay the insurance money himself. And again, that’s why I couldn’t see anyone else killing Trueman to get it back after Trueman tried to pull a double-cross by turning it back to me.”

Turning slowly to Neal, Shayne went on, “But I think I’ve got an answer that fits both those facts. A synthetic stone chips much more easily than the genuine. The only reason you and Mrs. Lomax could have preferred an insurance swindle to a legitimate sale was because the Ghorshki emerald had been damaged. Wasn’t that it?”

Jordan smiled and said quietly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t. Why else did you have to get it back from Trueman after you’d passed it to him?”

“Did I?” Jordan’s deliberate manner bordered on insolence.

Shayne turned to Quinlan and explained, “In a necklace like this, built around one large faultless stone, the value depends largely on that stone. A tiny chip marring it would cut the value in half. Mrs. Lomax and Neal Jordan knew that. They knew the insurance company wouldn’t pay off in full if the damage became known. That’s why Neal had to kill Trueman to prevent him from selling it to me.”

“If you take Mr. Lomax’s story at face value,” said Jordan, “it busts that theory all to hell. If he had planned to buy it back from Trueman-”

“That,” Shayne cut in harshly, “was just as bad from your angle. You’d still be stuck with a damaged necklace and Katrin’s murder would have been for nothing.”

“Fairy tales,” Jordan scoffed.

Shayne snorted and picked up a sheaf of papers from Quinlan’s desk. “Two witnesses saw you there between two and three o’clock this morning. But you and Lomax both agree he was there between twelve and one.” To Lomax, he said, “What did you think when you heard Neal drive out again after you got home from the Laurel Club?”

“Nuts,” said Jordan loudly. “I didn’t-”

Shayne said, “Shut up. Didn’t he, Lomax?”

The aged manufacturer nodded slowly.

“I heard the car go out the drive. When I read about Trueman’s death this morning, I wondered-I didn’t know what to do.”

“I know it was tough on you with your wife mixed up in it,” Shayne said in a kindly tone. “You knew all the time it was she who stole the necklace, didn’t you?”

“No,” Lomax cried out.

“The hell you didn’t,” Shayne said angrily. “Why else did you think Katrin Moe was murdered?”

“She wasn’t. That is, I didn’t know-”

“You must have suspected the truth. You knew your wife was having an affair with Jordan-that the trip to Baton Rouge was a phony and they went somewhere else to spend the night together.”

Lomax came out of the chair with a smothered oath, his hands doubled into fists.

Quinlan said, “Sit down, Lomax,” in a cold voice that sent him back to his seat.

“Sure, he knew about that,” Jordan sneered. “He had detectives on us months ago. But I don’t know what all this stuff is about the necklace-and Katrin being murdered.”

“You know more about it than anybody,” Shayne told him. “You planned it all when you and Mrs. Lomax got back from Baton Rouge and heard about the burglary in your absence. That burglary was made to order if you could make it appear the necklace had been left out of the safe Tuesday night. The only one who could disprove that was Katrin. So she had to die before the loss of the necklace was announced.”

“I suppose you think I persuaded her to go to bed and turn on the gas?” Neal Jordan sneered.

“No,” Shayne said. “It was the new insulation on the hot-air pipes that put me wise. That, and the flexible tube you used when you demonstrated how to relight the pilot light in the furnace.”

Neal Jordan’s expression changed. He darted one glance around the room, then lunged forward toward the door. Shayne laughed harshly and tripped him. A policeman was on top of his sprawling body as he went flat, and when he got slowly to his feet he wore a pair of handcuffs.

His eyes were murderous as he turned on Shayne and snarled, “So you did catch on? I was afraid you were wise when you asked for that demonstration.”

“I don’t understand it,” said Lomax helplessly. “I don’t understand it at all. My wife may have been indiscreet but I can’t believe that she would-murder.” He covered his face with his thin white hands and rocked back and forth.

“I don’t believe she knew what Neal planned,” Shayne told him. “Although I don’t know how he got her to hold back on her announcement of the loss of the necklace until after Katrin’s death if she didn’t know.”