Lawrence Sanders - Tenth Commandment

'Act sincere,' he said. 'You can act sincere, can't you?'

'Of course,' I said in a low voice.

'Sure you can,' he said. I knew he was trying to encourage me and I appreciated it. 'Don't worry, Josh, this is going down. This is going to be the greatest hustle known to living man. A classic.'

Lou spoke for the first time.

'The world is composed of five elements,' he stated.

'Earth, air, fire, water, and bullshit.'

'You're singing our song, baby,' Percy told him. 'Okay, Josh, let's do it.'

Chester Heavens came to the door.

'Gentlemen?' he said sombrely.

'Good morning, Chester,' I mumbled.

'Morning,' Percy said briskly. 'I am Detective Percy Stilton of the New York Police Department. I believe we've met before. Here is my identification.'

He flipped open his leather, held it up. Heavens peered at it.

'Yes, sah,' he said. 'I remember. How may I be of service?'

'It's important we see Mrs Kipper,' Stilton said. 'As soon as possible. She's home?'

Chester hesitated a moment, then surrendered.

'Please to step in,' he said. 'I'll speak with mom.'

We waited in that towering entrance hall. Heavens had disappeared into the dining room and closed the door. We 418

waited for what I thought was a long time. I fidgeted, but Stilton stood stolidly. Finally Chester returned.

'Mom will see you now,' he said, expressionless. 'She is at breakfast. May I take your things?'

He took our coats and hats, hung them away. He opened the door to the dining room, stood aside. Percy entered first. As I was about to go in, Chester put a soft hand on my arm.

'Bad, sah?' he whispered.

I nodded.

He nodded, too. Sorrowfully.

She was seated at the head of that long, shining table.

Regal. Wearing a flowing, lettuce-green peignoir. But her hair was down and not too tidy. Moreover, as I drew closer, I saw her face was slightly distorted, puffy. Staring, I saw that the left cheek from eye to chin was swollen, discoloured. She had attempted to cover the bruise with pancake makeup, but it was there.

Then I understood Godfrey Knurr's smarmy comment:

'I think I persuaded the lady.'

Stilton and I stood side by side. She stared at us, unblinking. She did not ask us to sit down.

'Ma'am,' Percy said humbly, 'I am Detective — '

'I know who you are,' she said sharply. 'We've met.

What do you want?'

'I am engaged in an official investigation of the Reverend Godfrey Knurr,' Stilton said, still apologetic. 'I hoped you would be willing to co-operate with the New York Police Department and furnish what information you can.'

She turned her eyes to me.

'And what are you doing here?' she demanded.

'Mr Bigg asked to come along, ma'am,' Percy said swiftly. 'The request for an investigation originated with his legal firm.'

She thought about that. She didn't quite believe, but she 419

didn't not believe. She wanted to learn more.

'Sit down then,' she said coldly. 'Both of you. Coffee?'

'Not for me,' Perce said, 'thank you, Mrs Kipper. You, Mr Bigg?'

'Thank you, no,' I said.

We drew up chairs, Stilton on her right, me on her left.

We had her surrounded, hemmed in. I don't think she expected that.

She shook a cigarette from an almost empty pack.

Stilton was there with his lighter before I could make a move. I think his courtesy reassured her. She blew smoke at the ceiling.

'Well,' she said, 'what's this all about?'

'Ma'am,' Stilton said, hunching forward earnestly, 'it's a rather involved story, so I hope you'll bear with me.

About two weeks ago the NYPD received a request from the police department of Gary, Indiana, asking us to determine if the Reverend Godfrey Knurr was in our area.

A warrant had been issued for his arrest. Two warrants, actually.'

'Arrest?' she cried. 'What for?'

'One was for blackmail, Mrs Kipper. Allegedly, for a period of many years, Knurr has been blackmailing an elderly clergyman in the neighbourhood where he grew up.

The other warrant was for desertion.'

We were both watching closely. She may have been an actress, but she couldn't conceal her reaction to that. The hand that held the cigarette began to quiver; the bruise stood out, a nasty blue. She leaned forward to pour herself more coffee.

Maybelle Hawks had been right; she hadn't known.

'Desertion?' she asked casually, and I noted that the charge of blackmail hadn't stirred her at all.

'Oh yes,' Detective Stilton said. 'Knurr was married about twenty years ago and has never been divorced or legally separated. Mr Bigg, do you have the licence?'

I plucked it from my briefcase and held it up before Tippi Kipper, making certain it did not leave my hands.

She leaned forward to read it.

'Yes,' she said dully, 'I see.'

Percy leaned back in his chair and folded his hands comfortably on the tabletop.

'Well,' he said, 'the request from the Gary, Indiana, police was circulated, and a copy came across my desk.

Ordinarily I would just file it and forget it. I'm sure you appreciate how busy we are, ma'am, and how an out-of-state request gets a very low priority on our schedule. You can understand that, Mrs Kipper?'

I admired the way he was taking her into his confidence — even confessing a little weakness with a small chuckle.

'Oh sure,' she said, still stunned. 'I can understand that.'

'But the name caught my eyes,' Detective Stilton went on. 'Only because I had interviewed Godfrey Knurr in connection with your husband's unfortunate death. So I knew who he was and where I could find him.'

She didn't say anything. She was pulling herself together, sipping her coffee and lighting another cigarette.

Fussing. Doing anything to keep from looking at us.

'Then,' Stilton continued, speaking gently and almost reflectively, 'before we had a chance to reply to the request from the Gary police, Mr Bigg came to us, representing the attorneys he works for. They wanted us to dig deeper into the case of a missing client of theirs. A Professor Yale Stonehouse. He had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Well, we looked into it and discovered that prior to his disappearance he had been the victim of arsenic poisoning. Mr Bigg?'

I whipped out the chemical analyses and held them up before her eyes. I don't think she even read them, but she was impressed. They were official documents. I began to appreciate Detective Stilton's insistence on such evidence.

They could be true or false, but printed foolscap carried weight.

'So,' Percy went on, sighing, 'we dug deeper and discovered that the poison had apparently been administered by Glynis Stonehouse, the daughter of the missing man. In addition, we found out that Glynis has been having an affair, is still having an affair, with the Reverend Godfrey Knurr. We do not know for sure, but we suspect that Professor Stonehouse has been murdered and that Knurr is deeply involved. So we are here, Mrs Kipper, to ask you to help by telling us what you can about this man. He's already charged with blackmail and wife desertion. It's only a matter of time before we can bring a first-degree homicide charge against him.'

For a moment I thought we had her. She stood up, circled her chair, started to sit down again. Then she stalked off to a far corner of the room, twisting her hands.

We watched her. She stood, facing a blank wall, then turned and came back. The air vibrated; you could feel it.

I had to admire her. She had been rocked, there was no doubt of that, but she rallied. I thought of the word

'spunk.'

She sat down again, carelessly this time, sprawled. No longer the queen. She dug a last cigarette from the crumpled pack. Percy Stilton was there with his lighter. She inhaled deeply, let the smoke escape lazily from her nostrils.