Маргарет Миллар - Vanish in an Instant

“She sings,” Virginia said. “She whistles. She quoted poetry. She’s so cheerful it drives me crazy. You’ve got to get me out of here.”

“I’m trying.”

“You said that before.”

“Now I’m repeating it. Mind if I sit down?”

“I don’t care.”

He sat down at the foot of the cot. “How’s your hangover?”

“It’s all right. But they’ve got fleas or something in here. I have more of those red welts all over my ankles. Did you remember to bring the DDT?”

“Sure.” He took the small bottle of DDT out of his overcoat pocket and gave it to her.

She read the label, frowning. “It’s only two percent.”

“I couldn’t get it any stronger.”

“You could.”

“All right, but I didn’t.”

“What were you afraid of, that I’d drink it in remorse or something?”

“It occurred to me,” Meecham said. “Now don’t get excited. Your mother will be here soon.”

“When?”

“Nine-thirty.”

“Do I... do I look all right?”

“You look fine. Very pretty, in fact.”

“Don’t say that. I know I’m not pretty.”

Meecham smiled. “We disagree about so many things, let’s not disagree about that. Where did you get the cockeyed idea that you’re not pretty?”

“I know I’m not. We won’t discuss it.”

“All right.” He offered her a cigarette and she shook her head in refusal. “Let’s discuss Cordwink. Give him a statement today and you’ll be out...”

“I wouldn’t give him the time of day.”

“Why not?”

Her lips tightened. “I know what I’m doing. If I refuse to tell Cordwink anything, he won’t have anything to trip me up with later on.”

“That argument is sound but rather limited.”

“Besides, now that my mother’s here, she’ll handle everything.”

“Oh?”

“Wait and see.”

“Your mother,” Meecham said dryly, “is undoubtedly a strong and persevering woman, but she can’t handle an entire sheriff’s department.”

She looked at him stubbornly. “She believes in me.”

“I don’t care if she thinks you’re Queen of the May, a mother’s faith isn’t enough to go to court on.”

“I won’t be going to court.”

“No?”

“I’m not guilty. I didn’t kill him.” She raised her voice. “Hear that, Miss Big Ears? I didn’t kill Margolis.”

Miss Jennings began to hum again: And you’ll take the low road .

“Well, that’s something anyway,” Meecham said. “A denial. Can you back it up?”

“That’s all I’m saying right now.”

“Why?”

“Because it is .”

“Because you don’t remember,” Meecham said. “According to the lab report your blood alcohol was 2.23.”

“What does that mean?”

“You were loaded.”

Virginia’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “Does my mother know that?”

“She must, by this time.”

“She’ll be furious. She’s a teetotaler.” She said it very seriously, as if the crime of which she was accused was not murder but drinking.

“So you won’t give Cordwink a statement.”

“I can’t. Don’t you understand? I can’t tell him I don’t remember anything, he’ll throw the book at me.”

“He may anyway.”

She bit her lower lip. “I admit I was a little high Saturday night.”

“You were quite stupendously drunk, Mrs. Barkeley. You weren’t a little high.”

“Well, stop repeating it!” she cried. “Why did you come here anyway? I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

“Don’t you?”

There was a pause. Miss Jennings was wide-eyed with curiosity, but she hummed valiantly on, keeping time with her left foot.

“You weren’t drunk all Saturday night. What happened earlier, before Margolis was killed?”

“We danced and had something to eat.”

“You also had a fight around eleven o’clock.”

“Claude and I were the best of friends,” she said stiffly.

“It’s on the record, Mrs. Barkeley. A waitress at the Top Hat remembers you both and has already identified your pictures. In the middle of the argument you got up and walked out and a few minutes later Margolis followed you. Where did you go? Or don’t you want me to tell you?”

“You like talking so much, tell me.” The words were arrogant, but they weren’t spoken arrogantly. Her voice trembled, and Meecham wondered if she was frightened at the thought of meeting her mother. She had shown no previous signs of fear.

He said, “You went to a beer-and-pretzel place a couple of doors down the street. It was jammed with the Saturday-night college crowd. Margolis caught up with you there. You were at the bar talking to a man when Margolis arrived. You got up and left with Margolis, and the other man got up and left too, according to one of the bartenders. But he doesn’t know whether the man left with you, or whether he was just going home because it was nearly closing time. Which was it?”

“Stop.” Virginia pounded the edge of the cot with her fist. “Do we have to go into it like this?”

“Somebody has to. We can’t all sit around nursing our amnesia.”

“You’re pretty insolent, for hired help.”

“And you’re pretty uncooperative for a girl who might spend her next twenty years sorting out dirty clothes in a prison laundry.”

“That was an ugly remark.” The girl’s face was paper-white, and her skin seemed to be stretched tight and transparent across her cheekbones. “I won’t forget it.”

“I hope not,” Meecham said. “There’s one very interesting point about the finding of Margolis’ body. His wallet was missing.”

“What difference does that make?”

“His friends claim he always carried a fair amount of cash.”

“He did.”

“It makes me wonder about your anonymous stranger at the bar. I gather you didn’t take Margolis’ wallet?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you’re broke.”

“So you’ve been checking up. Afraid you’re not going to get paid?”

“I’ve been checking. Your car isn’t paid for, your house is mortgaged, your husband is...”

“Leave Paul out of this,” she said sharply. “And get one thing straight — if I want money, I don’t have to go around lifting wallets.”

“You can ask your mother.”

“That’s right, I can.”

“Well, here’s your chance.” Meecham glanced at his watch. “She should be arriving right now.”

The overhead lights went off suddenly and the feeble rays of the morning sun filtered in through the barred windows like dim hopes.

Virginia got up and looked out the window at her little square of sky. “I can’t see her in here. There must be some other place.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He opened the cell door and stepped out. “Miss Jennings?”

Miss Jennings came up, swinging her keys. “All through for now?”

“Mrs. Barkeley’s mother is coming to visit her. They haven’t seen each other for a year. I thought we might be able to borrow some other room for a while, Miss Jennings.”

“Well, I guess so. I’ll see. After all, one’s own mother. ” She glanced rather uncertainly at Virginia. “I’ll have to stay with you all the time. Mr. Meecham can talk to you in private because he’s your lawyer. But anyone else... There are rules, even about mothers.”

“What do you think she’s going to do,” Virginia said, “slip me a loaf of bread with a chisel inside?”

Miss Jennings laughed hollowly. “She’s a great one for joking, isn’t she, Mr. Meecham?”

“Just great.” He gave Virginia a warning glance and she went and sat down on the cot again with her back to them both.