Дэвид Балдаччи - One Good Deed

“Yes, gentlemen, do you have news of my husband’s killer?”

Shaw took off his hat with his good arm.

“My word, what happened to you both?” asked Marjorie, noting the sling and Archer’s battered face.

Shaw pointed to two chairs. “May we?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

They sat, and Shaw stared at the placid woman.

“There have been developments, ma’am.”

Marjorie closed her book, adjusted her pince-nez, and looked across at them.

“Such as?”

“Such as Sid Duckett getting fed to the hogs out at your husband’s slaughterhouse. And two men trying to kill Jackie Tuttle last night.”

Marjorie paled and dropped her book to the floor. “Excuse me!”

Shaw gave her a dead-eyed stare. “We also know about the life insurance policy on your husband, Mrs. Pittleman.”

“That’s right. It was Hank who insisted that we take it out on him.”

“Oh, is that so?” said Shaw skeptically. “Why?”

“Well, we all have to die, Mr. Shaw. And Hank took out the policy, not me. You can ask the insurance person.”

“But you knew about it?”

“Yes, of course. I was the beneficiary, after all.”

“On the life insurance application, it said that your husband was in good health.”

“Well, as far as I knew, he was.”

Shaw’s mustache twitched. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“According to his doctor, you were with your husband when he told him he had incurable cancer in his brain. What do you say to that?”

“I didn’t believe him.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t believe the doctor. I told Hank to get a second opinion. As far as I was concerned, Hank did not have cancer.”

“I doubt the insurance company will believe that.”

“Then I will fight them to the very end,” she snapped, her calm, refined expression gone in an instant. “I will not let them browbeat a poor, old widow, or cheat me out of money that is rightfully mine!”

“Okay,” said Shaw, slowly glancing at Archer.

Marjorie calmed as quickly as she had grown angry. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, I’m sure you can understand how distressed I am about all this. But my money issues are not important. You said Sid Duckett is dead? And someone tried to kill Jackie?”

“One of her attackers was Malcolm Draper.”

“Sid Duckett and Malcolm Draper! My God. They both worked for Hank.”

“Which is why I’m here.”

“You can’t possibly think that I had anything to do with any of this. That... that is... I would never. How could you believe...?”

“Ma’am, look at it from my way. Your husband dies, you get a half-million bucks. Your husband was having a, well, an affair with Miss Tuttle. Lots of wives have killed their husbands and their husbands’ mistresses. Just a fact of life.”

Marjorie waved this off. “That is not how it was in this particular circumstance, Detective.”

“Then why don’t you tell me how it was , Mrs. Pittleman?”

“Jackie Tuttle was, well, an element of convenience for me.”

Archer said, “She told me it was the same for her.”

Marjorie said, “I’m sure. I can see how it would be, of course. I mean, Hank did financially support her.”

“But why would you let that happen right under your nose?” exclaimed Shaw.

She looked at him with pity. “I really had no say in the matter. I mean, look at the French. The men there have mistresses. And the wives tolerate it.”

“This ain’t France ,” said Shaw.

She shrugged. “Women must do what we can. The fact is, Hank had control of everything. When he ventured to... seek out the affections of others, I struck a bargain with my husband. Jackie became a part of that bargain. If it were up to me, I would not have made that arrangement, but it was not up to me. So, there you are. It was not a perfect situation by any stretch, but it worked for us.”

“But you might still want her dead,” said Shaw.

“I never tried to harm her while my husband was alive. Why in the world would I wish to do so after he’s dead and their... relationship must end?”

Shaw had no ready answer for this.

Archer said, “Can you think of anyone who would want to kill her?”

“No. I really don’t know much about her other than Hank wanted her by his side instead of me.”

“And Mr. Draper?” asked Shaw.

“What about him?”

“We learned that he went out to the slaughterhouse most nights. Do you know why?”

“He only came to work for Hank about a year ago. I can’t say I really knew the man, although I was going to rely on him to help see me through this mess. I guess I’m on my own with that.” She paused and said to Shaw, “Now, do you have any idea who killed Hank?”

“I thought I did, but maybe I’m wrong there. We’ll keep working on it. But please don’t leave the area.”

“I can assure you that I have no intention of leaving my home. I have a lawyer working on the debts and the insurance policy and other things. I won’t give up what Hank built without a fight, Detective.”

“That’s certainly within your rights, ma’am.”

Archer said, “We saw Mr. Tuttle here the last time we visited.”

“I know that. We talked about it.” She hesitated. “But that was a little odd.”

“What do you mean ‘odd’?” said Shaw.

“Well, he came to pay his respects to me about Hank’s death, as I said.” She glanced at Archer. “As you suggested before, most people knew the two did not get along. In fact, Hank hated Lucas Tuttle. He told me so.”

“But he loaned him money,” said Archer. “Five thousand dollars.”

“Did he really?” said Marjorie, looking intrigued by this. “Well, Lucas must have indeed been in desperate straits to come to Hank for money.”

“What was the beef between those two?” Shaw asked.

“You know what men are like — they never really grow up.”

“Come again?”

Marjorie sighed resignedly. “Before Hank came to town, Lucas was the big shot in Poca City. But Hank’s success left Lucas in the dirt,” she added proudly. “Now, if there’s nothing else?”

Marjorie pressed her bell, and this time Amy appeared and led them out.

“Mr. Archer, my goodness, what happened to your face?” she asked as they walked along.

“Ran into a wall. But I’ll be fine.”

She smiled. “Hope so. I like you all handsome.” She actually winked at him before skipping off.

As before, Archer watched her go, until he felt Shaw tugging on his arm.

“Don’t even think about it, Archer. That one is nothing but trouble.”

In a way, aren’t they all? thought Archer. At least for me.

They got back into the Buick. Archer was driving because of Shaw’s bum arm.

The lawman said, “Well, that was not what I was expecting. The woman seemed to have an answer for every dang thing.” He eyed Archer. “We got to hope Draper wakes up and tells us the truth. Drop me at the hospital so I can check on that. I can walk to the hotel from there.”

“Okay. Then I’m gonna go see Jackie.”

“Ask her if she knows anybody who wants to kill her.”

“That’s a tough thing to ask a person.”

“Well, you got to because it’s the only way we’re gonna get to the truth, Archer.”

“That seems a long way away right now.”

“Hell, son, it always does, up until the moment you fall right over the damn thing.”

“No enemies that I can think of, Archer,” said Jackie.

She and Archer were sitting in the front room of Ernestine’s bungalow. Ernestine had gone to the evening service at the Methodist church, but she’d left her gun with Jackie.