Lawrence Sanders - McNally's chance

“I’m glad you’re here, Mr. McNally,” Silvester said. “I’ve been calling your office all morning.”

“I’ve been out,” I answered, then quickly added, “My sympathies to both of you.”

“Thank you,” Silvester said.

“My father didn’t do it, Mr. McNally!” Gillian cried.

Out of patience, Silvester reproached her. “Let’s discuss this with Mr. McNally like rational people.”

“We have been discussing it for two days and my answer is still no,”

the girl ranted. Ward went to her and took her hand.

Ignoring them, Silvester turned to me, “Have you spoken to the police?”

“No. I wanted to speak to you and Ms Wright before I saw them.”

“Thank you, and we wanted to talk to you,” Silvester said. “We have to report to the police station in an hour and we’ll have to face the press before we do and make a statement’ Here he glared at Zack Ward

‘although some of us have already been talking to the press… ad nauseam.”

“It’s my job,” Ward said, not concealing his defiance. “And all I’ve reported are the known facts. I haven’t told them anything else.”

“You’ve told them you’re on the inside,” Silvester charged, ‘holding the distressed daughter’s hand, when not even the man from the New York Times has been able to get near her.”

“But he didn’t tell them my father did it,” Gillian said, ‘as you want to do.”

It was clear this screaming match had been going on since the murder, and the bone of contention was becoming clearer with each salvo.

Joining Cranston and Appleton, Silvester asked me, “What are you going to tell the police, Mr. McNally?”

“The truth, and nothing but.”

“No,” Gillian screamed. “No, no, no.”

“Jill, shut up and listen to reason,” Silvester all but shouted. “We, and Mr. McNally, have no choice. We must tell them the truth.”

Gillian reprised her mantra. “My father didn’t do it.”

Playing the arbitrator, I offered, “If you would all calm down a moment, maybe we can work this out to everyone’s satisfaction,” It was pure swagger, but it did get their attention. “Rob, why don’t you tell me what’s been happening here this past week. I mean what was Sabrina doing we all know what Jill and Zack were up to.”

Silvester told me in detail that Sabrina was nervous, edgy, and short-tempered with all of them since they had settled into The Breakers. She pleaded with Gillian to give up her search and return to New York. She promised Ward an exclusive for his rag if he could talk Gillian into returning home.

“She saw Gillian’s father three times,” Silvester said.

“You’re just guessing,” Gillian interrupted.

“One at a time,” I reminded the girl. To Silvester, I said, “An informant told me that you told the police Sabrina went driving at night for creative inspiration.”

“When they found her, I got the call,” Silvester started to explain. “I went to the station house and Jill stayed here with Zack. They asked me what Sabrina was doing out alone at that hour and I didn’t want to tell them until I had talked to Jill, so I made up that story.”

“There,” the girl pounced, ‘you wanted my permission to tell them and I won’t give it to you, so why don’t we stick to your original story? My father didn’t do it.”

“Do you know who your father is?” I asked her.

“You know I don’t,” she said.

“Then you don’t know what he is capable of doing or what circumstances might have driven him to the limit,” I stated, beginning to feel empathy with Robert Silvester.

On the brink of more tears, she sobbed, “It’s too horrible to be true.”

The clever reporter looked at me and asked, “Do you know who her father is, Mr. McNally?”

One of the few perks of the situation made it possible for me to answer honestly in the negative.

Determined to finish his story, Silvester was saying, “Sabrina received three calls last week. She went out at night after each one of them. I asked her where she was going, but she refused to tell me. I had no doubt that it was to meet Jill’s father.”

“How could he know what was going on?” Gillian said.

“Really,” I answered for Silvester. “Between Lolly’s gossip column and your snooping around the library and calling newspaper editors he would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to know.”

“I think,” Silvester said, ‘that Sabrina tried to assure him that she would keep his secret and that she would take Jill home. Zack’s profession had also become common knowledge because Zack can’t refrain from showing people his press card. You can imagine how Mr. Anonymous felt about that.”

“I show my card when I have to,” Ward said. If Gillian wasn’t clinging to his hand, I believe he would have hauled off and hit Silvester.

Unperturbed, Silvester continued, “Sabrina was not a diplomat and I think the guy lost patience in their last meeting.”

It was clear they all believed only one man was involved. Would I have to tell the police differently, naming all three? How would Gillian react to that? Silvester? Zack Ward would love it. Would the men be forced to give a blood sample? Would the doctor go on national television holding an envelope and emote, “And the winner is…”

But now that Cranston and Appleton were in the clear did I have to name them? Couldn’t I just cut to Harry Schuyler? I didn’t know. But either choice would result in a betrayal of Sabrina’s bargain.

“Lost patience,” Gillian ridiculed. “Lost patience and took mother’s jewelry and money? It was a common thief. We would only be helping the murderer if we force the police to look elsewhere.”

“How would the police find your father?” Ward asked, as usual making the most sense. If we couldn’t find him, how will they?”

“That’s not the point,” she answered. “If we confess everything to the police the media will have a field day with it and my father will think that we are accusing him. That I believe he’s guilty. He would never agree to meet with me.”

“Which he has no intention of doing anyway, Jill.” Silvester seemed to take great pleasure in reminding his stepdaughter of her father’s reluctance to come forward. “I think that should be perfectly clear to you by now. We have to tell the police what we know.” Silvester looked at his watch. “The time has come to go down and face those reporters.”

My steroid al hormones were telling me the time had come to beat a hasty retreat. I began to withdraw slowly, shortening the distance between my back and the door.

“What do you suggest we tell the press, Mr. McNally?”

“No comment,” I suggested.

“Would you like to come to the police station with us?” Silvester invited.

“No, thanks. I have my car.”

“What will you tell the police?” Gillian called.

I had reached the door and opened it before replying, “The truth.”

“No,” she moaned. “No, no, no.”

I went directly to an accommodation phone and dialed Al Rogoff. If he was there I vowed to have no more than one cigarette a day for the next year.

“Palm Beach Police, Sergeant Rogoff speaking.”

And I learned firsthand the peril of answered prayers. Al, it’s Archy.”

Archy, where have you been? Sabrina Wright’s family is on the way here and the lieutenant wants to speak to you before he sees them.”

“Indulge me, Al, and refresh my memory. You told me no one knew that Sabrina had been relieved of her cash and her baubles. Does no one include her husband, Robert Silvester?”

“Yeah. We didn’t tell him nothing. He told us what she was wearing and he made a brief statement. That would be about three o’clock Sunday morning.”