Mary Clark - We'll Meet Again

Philip had brought in a trusted investigator to work with him on the case, and together they were beginning to shape the defense he would offer in court.

Molly said that she had seen a medium-sized sedan pulling out of the parking lot as she left the diner that night. Philip’s investigator had already established that no other customer had left the diner for at least several minutes before Annamarie ran out.

Molly said she had gone directly to her own car. She had noticed a Jeep parked in the lot when she first arrived at the diner to meet Annamarie, but she had no way of knowing that it was Annamarie’s vehicle. The investigator had concluded that Molly must have stepped in the blood that was found on her shoe, and then the blood on the shoe had left a mark on the carpet in her car.

All the evidence is circumstantial, Philip fumed as he went into the diner. The blood on her shoe is the only tangible evidence they have to connect her with the murder. If the killer was in that sedan, it meant he had been parked in the lot, because Molly saw him pull out of the lot. What must have happened, Philip concluded, was that after the killer stabbed Annamarie, he ran back to his own car, then drove away as Molly exited the diner. The murder weapon hasn’t been found. What I can argue is that a few drops of blood may have dripped from the knife onto the tarmac, and Molly stepped in it accidentally, not even noticing it.

But there’s another major problem that we can’t yet explain, Philip thought as he took one last look around the parking lot: a motive for this anonymous killer. Why would someone follow Annamarie Scalli to the diner, wait for her to leave, and kill her? Nothing in her personal life-other than her affair with Molly’s husband years ago-would indicate a motive; he’d had her thoroughly checked out. I know that Fran Simmons is pursuing some theory about the hospital that may connect to Annamarie, he thought. I can only hope she comes up with something- soon!

When Philip entered the diner, he was pleased to see that Bobby Burke was at the counter. He was also relieved to see that Gladys Fluegel wasn’t in sight. His detective had warned him that her story about Molly restraining Annamarie from leaving the diner and then rushing out after her had become increasingly more sensational every time she repeated it.

Philip took a seat at the counter. “Hi, Bobby,” he said. “How about a cup of coffee?”

“Boy, you made it quick, Mr. Matthews. I guess Ms. Simmons called you right away.”

“What are you talking about, Bobby?”

“I phoned Ms. Simmons an hour ago and left a message for her.”

“You did? What about?”

“That couple you’ve been looking for, the ones who were here Sunday night? They happened to come in for lunch today. They’re from Norwalk. Turns out they flew up to Canada Monday morning and just got home last night. Can you believe they didn’t even know what had happened? They said they’ll be glad to talk to you. Their names are Hilmer. Arthur and Jane Hilmer.”

Bobby lowered his voice. “Mr. Matthews, just between us, when I told them what Gladys told the cops, they said she was full of baloney. They said they didn’t hear Mrs. Lasch call ‘Annamarie’ twice. According to them, she called her once . And they’re sure she didn’t yell ‘Wait!’ It was Mrs. Hilmer who yelled ‘ Waitress,’ trying to get Gladys’s attention.”

Over the years, Philip Matthews knew he had become cynical. People were predictable and never failed to disappoint you. At that moment, however, he felt like a child in Wonderland. “Give me the Hilmers’ number, Bobby,” he said. “This is great!”

Bobby smiled. “There’s more, Mr. Matthews. The Hilmers say that when they came in that night they saw a guy sitting in a medium-sized sedan in the parking lot. They even got a good look at his face, because they caught him with their headlights when they parked. They can describe him . I’m sure that guy never came in here, Mr. Matthews. It was a slow night, and I’d remember.”

Molly has said since the beginning that she saw a medium-sized sedan pulling out of the lot, Philip thought. Maybe this is our break at last.

“The Hilmers said they won’t be home until nine o’clock tonight, Mr. Matthews. They said if anyone wants to see them after that time, though, he should just be at their house. They understand how important this could be to Mrs. Lasch and are anxious to help.”

“I’ll be on their doorstep,” Philip Matthews said. “Oh God, will I be on their doorstep!”

“The Hilmers said they parked right next to a brand-new Mercedes that night. They remembered because it was cold and that was as near to the entrance as you could get. I told them that must have been Mrs. Lasch’s car.”

“Obviously I hired the wrong person to help me with the investigation, Bobby. Where did you learn about all this?” Philip asked.

Bobby smiled benignly. “Mr. Matthews, I’m the son of a public defender, and he’s a good teacher. I plan to be a public defender too.”

“You’ve got a hell of a start,” Philip told him. “Let me have that coffee, Bobby. I need it.”

As he sipped, Philip debated whether to call Molly and tell her immediately about the Hilmers, then decided against it. I’ll wait until I’ve actually seen them myself, he decided. Maybe there’s even more they can tell that will help her. And I’ve got to get a sketch artist up here-tomorrow, if possible-so we can get an idea of the guy they saw in the parking lot. This could be our salvation!

Oh, Molly, Philip thought yearningly as the image of her face, haunted and sad, filled his mind. I’d give my right arm to see you free from this nightmare. And I’d give anything in the world to see you smile.

With methodical care, Calvin Whitehall prepared Lou for his assignment in West Redding. He explained that the element of surprise was essential to the plan if it was to work.

“Hopefully, the window from the porch to the laboratory will be open so you can quietly toss in the gasoline-soaked rags; otherwise you will have no choice but to break a pane,” Cal said. “Now I realize that the fuse connected to our little device is short, but it should give you enough time to be down the steps and away from the building before the explosion.”

Lou listened attentively as Cal went on to tell him that Dr. Logue had called, all excited about meeting the press. It was clear he was eager to show Fran Simmons his laboratory, so Lou could count on the two of them being upstairs in the lab when the bomb went off. “It will appear much more likely to be an unfortunate accident if what’s left of them is found in the lab,” Cal said casually, “to say nothing of the fact that if they were downstairs, they might have time to make it out.

“Escape will be impossible from upstairs,” he went on. “The door from the laboratory to the porch has two separate locks, and it’s kept bolted at all times because Dr. Logue is fearful that attempts may be made on his life.”

He’s right to be fearful, Lou thought, but then admitted to himself that, as usual, Cal ’s attention to detail was remarkable and no doubt would prove to be a safeguard for him.

“Unless you botch the job completely, Lou-and need I say, don’t! -the fire and subsequent explosion will take care of the dual problems of the doctor and Fran Simmons. The farmhouse is over one hundred years old, and the interior staircase is very narrow and steep. There is no way, assuming the explosion is as great as I anticipate, that either or both of them could get out of the laboratory, run down the hall, and then get down those stairs in time to escape. However, you should be prepared for that eventuality, of course.”