Lawrence Sanders - Tenth Commandment

'Yes,' I said, nodding, 'that's my theory, and it's a — it's an elegant theory that explains most of the known facts.

After Sol Kipper died, Marty Reape tried blackmail. But he underestimated their determination, or their desperation. So he was killed. His widow inherited his files, including his copies of the Kipper evidence. She sold the evidence, or part of it, or perhaps she made copies, realizing what a gold mine she had. She got greedy, so she had to be eliminated, too. Does that make sense?'

'Oh yes. Tippi and Knurr, they were only interested in Mr Kipper's money. But with the evidence he had, he could get a divorce, and her settlement would have been a lot less than she'll inherit now. So they murdered the poor man.'

'It's an elegant theory,' I repeated. 'There's just one thing wrong with it: they couldn't have done it.'

'I've been puzzling that out,' she said frowning. 'Is it positive there was no one else in the house?'

'A hired killer? The servants say that no one came in and they saw no one leave. The police were there soon after Sol died, and they searched the house thoroughly and found no one.'

'Could they be lying? The servants? For money?'

'I don't believe they're lying, and the detective who did the police investigation doesn't think they are either. If they were in on it, they would all have to be in on it. That means five people engaged in a murder conspiracy. I can't see it. The more people involved, the weaker the chain.

Too many opportunities for continuing blackmail. Tippi and Knurr are too smart for that. I think it happened the way they told it: four people on the ground floor when Sol Kipper went to his death.'

She sighed. 'Leaving a suicide note,' she said.

'Yes, there's that, too.'

'What will you do now?'

'Well, I — ' I stopped suddenly. What would I do now? 'I don't know,' I confessed to Mrs Kletz. 'I don't know what more I can do. I can follow Tippi or the Reverend Knurr. I can definitely establish that they are having an affair. But what good will that do? It won't bring me any closer to learning how the murder of Sol Kipper was engineered.

And I'm just as convinced as you are that it was murder.'

'Chicago,' she said.

'What?'

'In your notes, Mr Bigg. The Reverend told you he was from the Chicago area. Then the Kipper sons told you that they thought Tippi came from Chicago.'

I took a deep breath. 'Thank you, Mrs Kletz,' I said fervently. 'That's exactly the sort of thing I hoped you might spot. I've been too close to this thing, but you came to it fresh. All right, maybe they're both from the Chicago area. What does that prove? Probably nothing. Unless they knew each other before they ended up in New York.

Even that might not mean anything unless. . '

'Unless,' she said, 'they had been involved together in something similar.'

'Back in Chicago?'

'Yes.'

'Yes,' I agreed. 'It's not much, but it might be sufficient to convince the NYPD to reopen their investigation.

They've got resources and techniques to unravel this thing a lot faster than I could hope to. Meanwhile, I'll try to dig 243

up what I can on the Chicago background of Tippi and Knurr. It may prove to be nothing, but I've got to — '

The phone rang. Mr Teitelbaum was free now.

Ada Mondora clinked her gypsy jewellery at me and smiled pertly as I stood before her desk.

'I hear someone had a nice lunch today,' she said archly.

'News does get around, doesn't it?' I said.

'What should we talk about?' she demanded. 'Torts?

Yetta just loves her sweater.'

I groaned.

'I think my bet is safe,' Ada said complacently. 'I'm betting on you. Thelma will just die when she hears about the sweater.'

'Thelma Potts? She's betting on Hooter?'

'Didn't you know?' Ada asked innocently, widening those flashing eyes and showing her brilliant white teeth.

'As a matter of fact, Thelma and I have a private bet.

Lunch at the Four Seasons. I know exactly what I'm going to order.'

When I entered Mr Teitelbaum's office, he was seated, as usual, behind his enormous desk, his pickled hands clasped on top. He motioned me to an armchair, asked for a report on the Stonehouse investigation.

Consulting my notes, I capsuled the results of my inquiries as briefly and succinctly as I could. I told him that I first suspected the nightly cup of cocoa was the means by which Professor Stonehouse was poisoned, but I now realized it was the brandy in the Professor's study. I reported that Stonehouse had submitted two substances for analysis at a chemical laboratory.

'I will try to obtain copies of those analyses, sir,' I said.

'I'd be willing to bet the arsenic was put into the Professor's cognac.'

'By whom?'

I told him about my interviews with Powell Stonehouse and Wanda Chard, and my last meeting with Glynis 244

Stonehouse. I said that Powell seemed to have easiest access to the poison, via Wanda Chard, but since he was banished from his father's home during the period of the poisoning, it seemed unlikely that he was the culprit, unless he was working in collusion with one or more of the other members of the household.

'You think that likely?' Mr Teitelbaum asked in his surprisingly vigorous voice.

'No, sir.'

'Surely not the wife then? On her own?'

'No, sir.'

'The servants?'

'No, sir,' I said sighing, 'The daughter. But I must tell you, I have absolutely no proof to support that suspicion. I don't know where she could have obtained the arsenic. I don't know what her motive might possibly have been.'

'Do you think her mentally unbalanced?'

'No, sir, I do not. Mr Teitelbaum, it might help if you could explain to me what happens legally in this case. I mean, what happens to the assets of the missing man?'

It was his turn to sigh. He entwined his leathery fingers, looked down on his clasped hands on the desktop as if they were a ten-legged animal, a kind of lizard perhaps, that had nothing to do with him.

'Mr Bumble said that the law is an ass,' he said. 'I might amend that to say that the law is usually half-ass.'

A lawyer's joke, I laughed dutifully.

'The laws concerning the estate of a missing person are somewhat involved,' he continued sharply. 'Common law, as approved by the Supreme Court in 1878 in the case of Davie versus Briggs, establishes a presumption of death after seven years. However, the Stonehouse case must be adjudicated under the statutes of New York State, of which there are two applying to this particular situation.'

I stifled a groan and settled a little deeper into my armchair. I was in for a lecture, when all I had wanted was a 245

one-sentence answer.

'The Estates, Powers and Trusts Law allows a presumption of death after five years of continuous absence, providing — and this is one of the reasons I requested you make a thorough investigation — providing that the missing person was exposed to a specific peril of death and that a diligent search was made prior to application that declaration of presumed death be issued by the court. At that point, after five years, assuming the two conditions I have just stated have been observed, the missing person may be presumed dead and his will submitted to probate. But if, subsequent to those five years, he suddenly appears, he may legally claim his estate. Thus, "diligent search" is of paramount importance in the presumption of his death.

Are you following me, Mr Bigg?'

'Yes, sir,' I said. 'I think so.'

'On the other hand,' Mr Teitelbaum said with great satisfaction, and I realized that, to a lawyer, 'On the other hand' contains as much emotional impact as 'I love you'

would to a layman.

'On the other hand,' he continued, 'the Surrogate's Court Procedure Act, dealing with the administration of the estates of missing persons, provides that not until ten years after the date of disappearance does the missing person lose all interest in his property. The estate is then distributed to his heirs by will or the laws of intestacy. This is simply a statute of limitations on the time in which a missing person may claim his estate. After those ten years, he is, to all intents and purposes, legally dead, although he may still be alive. If he shows up in person after those ten years, he owns nothing.'