James Chase - This Way for a Shroud

“Oh, no. I — I want it in writing.”

Conrad made a sign to Madge, who went over to the table, sat down, and opened a notebook she had ready.

“Go ahead,” Forest said to Conrad. “You handle it.”

Conrad came over to Frances.

“Just to get the record straight. Miss Coleman. You are Frances Coleman, and you have no fixed address at the moment, is that right?”

Frances looked up at him.

“Yes.”

“On the 9th of this month you went to see June Arnot?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you go and see her?”

“I was out of work,” Frances said, twisting her hands in her lap. I hadn’t any money. I once worked with Miss Arnot. I had a small part in one of her films. She was about to make another picture so I went to ask her if she could find a part for me.”

“And did she see you?”

“Yes.”

“What time did you arrive at Dead End?”

“It was a little before seven: about ten minutes to seven.”

“The guard sent you up to the house?”

“No. He phoned through to the house and they told him Miss Arnot was in the swimming-pool. He phoned through there, and Miss Arnot said I was to join her at the pool.”

“And did you?”

“Yes. It was a long walk from the gates, and it was a very hot evening. Miss Arnot saw how hot I was and she told me to have a swim first. She was in the pool, and she swam to the edge when she saw me. She said I’d find a costume in the changing room and I was to come into the pool.”

“And did you?”

“I — I didn’t have time to get to the pool. I went to the changing room and began to undress, then I heard Miss Arnot call out as if she were greeting someone.”

“What did you do?”

“I was undressed by this time. I didn’t do anything. I stayed in the dressing room, trying to find the costume Miss Arnot said was in one of the cupboards.”

“While you were looking for the costume, did you hear anything?”

Frances gave a little shiver.

“Yes. I heard a shot; it sounded some way off. Then after a minute or so, five or six more shots.”

“What did you do?”

“I stood listening, then I heard Miss Arnot scream out. It was a horrible sound. I grabbed up my dress and holding it to me I ran to the door of the changing room.”

“And did you see anything?”

Frances nodded. Her face was now white and strained.

“What did you see?”

“Miss Arnot was lying on the ground, near the pool, and a short, thick-set man in a black suit was bending over her. He wrenched off her swim-suit. In his right hand he was holding a knife: it was a broad-bladed thing, and it glittered in the sunshine. Miss Arnot seemed partially stunned. She was feebly trying to push his hand away. Before I could do anything, he — he stabbed her.”

“Did you cry out? Did you let him know you were there?”

Frances shook her head.

“Oh, no. I knew he had killed her. No one could have lived after the awful wound he gave her. It was horrible!” She looked away, her lips trembling. “I was paralysed with fear. I couldn’t move or make a sound. He straightened up and kicked her as she lay dying on the ground. I saw his face. I’ll never forget it. He

looked like a wild beast.”

Conrad took a packet of photographs from his pocket.

“Will you look through these and see if you can recognize the man who killed Miss Arnot?”

Her hands shaking, Frances took the photographs. She had only to turn two over before she found the picture of Maurer. She handed it to Conrad.

“This man.”

“All right,” Conrad put the photographs down. What happened next, Miss Coleman?”

“Another man joined him, and they both stood over Miss Arnot. I was terrified. I hid in a shower cabinet.”

“I would like to establish this other man’s identity,” Conrad said. “Would you look at those photographs again and see if you can recognize him?”

Frances went through the photographs. When she came to Toni Paretti’s photograph, she studied it for a brief moment, and then handed it to Conrad.

“That’s the man.”

“Well, fine,” Conrad said. “What happened when you were in the shower cabinet?”

The two men remained outside the changing room for several minutes, then I heard a splash as if they had thrown Miss Arnot’s body into the pool. Then the short thick-set man came into the changing room. His hands were covered with blood. I could see him through a gap in the curtain. He washed his hands, and all the time he hummed under his breath.” She suppressed a shiver. “It was the most cold-blooded sound I have ever heard.”

McCann couldn’t restrain himself any longer. Inwardly raging as he listened, realizing the deadliness of this girl’s story, he burst out, “That’s a fine piece of imagination! Do you know what I think of it? I think the whole story’s a damned he! I don’t believe you saw Maurer!” He leaned forward, his bull neck swelling with rage. “You’ve got a thing about Weiner, haven’t you? You fell for him, didn’t you? Just because he’s got a face that’d haunt a house you went soft on him. You’ve got a nutty idea Maurer killed Weiner. Okay, you want to take it out on Maurer, so you cooked up this yarn. That’s the way it goes, isn’t it?”

Conrad, his face flushing and his eyes snapping, started to say something, but stopped as Forest gave him a sign. Forest was looking at Frances, and Conrad looked at her too.

Far from being cowed by McCann’s shouting voice, she faced him angrily.

“I’m telling the truth!” she said fiercely.

“Yeah? Then why the hell didn’t you come out with this story before? You don’t kid me, and you wouldn’t kid a jury!

“You’ve got hot pants for Weiner, and you’re trying to get even with Maurer!”

Again Conrad started in to take Frances’s part, but again Forest stopped him.

“How dare you speak to me like that!” Frances flared. “You sound very anxious to protect Maurer! Pete said there were policemen who’d sell him out. Were you the one who sold him out?”

If she had struck him across the face, McCann couldn’t have reacted more violently.

“By God!” he shouted, his face going blotchy. “You can’t talk to me like that, you little bitch!”

“That’s enough!” Forest snapped. “Watch your language, Captain! I’m sure Miss Coleman didn’t mean what she said.”

McCann clenched his fists, words refusing to come. He was badly rattled. This girl had got unpleasantly near the truth, and he realized he was to blame for trying to take Maurer’s part.

“I can prove what I’m saying,” Frances went on, turning to Forest. “I can prove every word!”

“How can you do that, Miss Coleman?”

“Maurer took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his face with it,” Frances said quietly. “As he did so, he flicked out a gold pencil. It fell on his shoe, and then rolled across the floor and went down a drain in one of the shower cabinets. Maurer tried to get it up, but he couldn’t reach it. This other man said they had to go, but Maurer said the pencil had his initials on it, and he had to get it. The other man said no one would ever see it down there, and there was no way of recovering it. Maurer finally agreed to leave it.” She turned to look at McCann who was standing stiff and motionless. There was blood on Maurer’s shoe,” she went on, “and some of the blood got on to the pencil. You have only to get the pencil, prove the blood belongs to Miss Arnot, and then perhaps you’ll believe I’m telling the truth!”

Conrad looked at Forest.

“Well, is that the corroboration you want?” He swung around and grinned at McCann. “She thought that one up entirely on her own. She’s quite a detective, isn’t she, Captain?”