James Chase - This Way for a Shroud

The three men walked into the big lounge, and as McCann pulled off his raincoat, Conrad said. “She’s going to talk! We’ve got Maurer where we want him at last! She actually saw him do the job!”

McCann paused, his arm half in and half out of his coat, and he glared at Conrad. His fleshy face turned purple and his small eyes gleamed redly.

“Then why the hell hasn’t she talked before?” he snarled.

“It’s quite a story,” Conrad returned. “Before we go up, you’d better hear it.”

McCann threw his coat into an armchair and walked with a slow heavy tread to the fireplace. If this was true, he thought, then Maurer was finished. McCann didn’t kid himself that Maurer would go to the chair without blowing the lid off the organization, nor would he keep quiet about the money he had paid McCann in the past.

McCann was alarmed, and he had difficulty not to show it.

“Are you sure she isn’t lying?” he said, clenching his fists behind his back.

“Yes, I’m sure of that,” Conrad returned, “but you can judge for yourself when you hear what she has to say.”

Forest sat down and took out his cigar-case.

“Tell me about Weiner first,” he said.

“There’s not much to tell,” Conrad said. “It was damned bad luck. He had a bath tonight. O’Brien and I took him to the bathroom, and O’Brien thoroughly searched the room before Weiner went in. We waited outside. After twenty minutes I called Weiner to come out, but he didn’t answer. We found the door locked. We broke it down and found him drowned in the bath. The Doc said he had a superficial injury at the back of his head. He thinks Weiner got into the bath, came over faint, tipped back and banged his head on the taps.”

“People usually face the taps when they take a bath,” Forest pointed out.

“Yes, but apparently Weiner didn’t. Anyway, he was dead by the time we got him out, and there was nothing we could do for him.”

“Are you quite sure no one could have got at him, Paul? It seems odd to me that the door was locked.”

“It seems odd to me, too, but I’m certain no one could have got into the bathroom while he was in it. The window is much too small. It would take a dwarf a good ten minutes to wriggle through, and in that time Weiner could have raised the alarm. No, I’m positive it was an accident.”

“Hmm, this has shot a big hole in our case,” Forest said. “We needed corroboration, and Weiner could have given it to us.”

“Wait until you hear what Miss Coleman has to say. I think you’ll agree with me her evidence will stand up without corroboration.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” McCann growled. “You wanted to tell me something, Paul?” Forest asked, ignoring McCann.

“Yes.” Conrad lit a cigarette, went on, “You remember you suggested she was keeping quiet for a personal reason? You were right. She had a very personal reason for not admitting she saw Maurer, and now I’ve heard her story, I can’t say I entirely blame her for keeping quiet. She wanted to avoid the publicity. Her name’s not Coleman. She has a name known all over the world. Her father- was David Taleteller.”

Both Forest and McCann stared at Conrad.

“You mean the Boston vampire?” Forest said, and Conrad could see how shocked he was.

“Yes, that’s the man. I don’t suppose there is anyone who has read the papers who doesn’t know about Taleteller, and hasn’t been revolted by his ghastly child murders. You will remember he was finally caught in the act and lynched by an infuriated mob who wrecked his house, killed his wife and very nearly laid hands on his daughter. And that daughter is Frances Coleman. Now do you understand why she had a horror of being dragged into the limelight? She has successfully hidden her real identity and has started a new life for herself. For the past six years she has been living as Frances Coleman, and up to the time she called on June Arnot she believed she had hidden her real identity for good. Then June Arnot was murdered, and Frances actually saw the murder committed. She realized that if she gave evidence the press would quickly find out who she was, and once more she would be faced by the horrible stigma of being the daughter of the most revolting killer of the century. She couldn’t face up to it, so she refused to admit she had seen Maurer, and I can’t blame her, can you?”

“Well, no,” Forest said slowly. “This is, of course, a very special case. But why has she changed her mind? You say she is now willing to give evidence?”

“Oh, yes, she’ll give evidence. She thinks Maurer killed Weiner and she doesn’t want him to get away with it.”

“And yet she was willing to let Maurer get away with June Arnot’s killing?” McCann snapped. “That doesn’t add up, does it?”

“June Arnot meant nothing to her, while Weiner did. Weiner saved her life, and his death shocked her. Personally I think she has been wavering for some days, and his death clinched it. It’s a psychological reaction.”

“Why does she imagine Maurer killed Weiner?” Forest asked sharply.

Conrad shrugged.

“I don’t know. Weiner told her Maurer would get him, and I guess she believes him. Nothing I can say will change her mind on that. She doesn’t pretend to know how Maurer got at Weiner, but she is absolutely certain he did get at him.”

“You’re quite sure he didn’t, Paul?” Forest asked quietly.

“I can’t be positive,” Conrad said irritably. “But I’ll be damned if I can see how he did it, if he did do it.”

“You’re both making Maurer a bogey man,” McCann snarled. “When are you going to see this girl?”

Conrad swung around, stung by McCann’s bullying tone.

“See here, Captain. I’ll have you remember she is a material witness, and as such is under the court’s protection. I’m not going to tolerate any police methods when we question her. You have been asked here as an interested party, but that gives you no right to get as tough as I imagine you think you’re going to get! So watch it!”

McCann’s eyes snapped and his face became swollen with pent-up fury.

“You can’t talk to me that way…” he began, when Forest interrupted.

“Yes, we can, Captain,” he said. “I support what Conrad’s just said. This girl’s an important witness, and I’m going to see she gets treated right.”

“She’s an accessory after the fact!” McCann said, controlling his temper with an effort. “And there’s nothing either of you can say that’ll make her anything else!”

“Oh, skip it,” Conrad said impatiently. “Let’s go up and talk to her. We want Maurer, and this girl can give us Maurer. That’s all there is to it. So get off your high horse and calm down.”

For a moment he thought McCann was going to take a swing at him, but McCann managed to control himself.

“Okay,” he said, biting off each word. “Let’s get at her!”

The three men went up the stairs to Frances’s room.

They found Frances, white-faced with dark shadows under her eyes, standing by the window. Madge Fielding was with her.

“Miss Coleman, this is the District Attorney,” Conrad said, “and this is PoliceCaptain McCann. They have come to hear your story. Gentlemen, this is Miss Coleman.”

Forest came over and smiled at Frances.

“Sit down, Miss Coleman,” he said. “I’m glad you’re going to help us. I want you to know I fully understand why you have hesitated to give us a statement before now, and I want you to know we shall do our best to protect you against publicity or any unpleasant consequences that may follow a trial.”

Frances didn’t meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, and sat down.

“You have no objection if your statement is taken down in writing?” Forest went on.