Джон Макдональд - You Live Once

Willy shooed me to a chair next to the sun-dried blonde, rubbed his hands together and said, “Well, Chief, I guess we can get started.”

“Captain Kruslov will ask some questions,” the chief said.

Kruslov paced to the center of the room. “We called you people together to see if we can come up with anything we missed so far. We’re interested mostly in anybody any of you could have seen hanging around, acting funny, anything like that. We’re sort of thinking of a snatch. We’ll take up this angle first. Miss Bettson?”

“Bettiger. No, I didn’t see a thing. Mary and I played twenty-seven holes. At the end of eighteen we were even in holes and even in score so we played another nine. I won three and two. I didn’t see a thing out of line.”

“How did she act? Same as usual?”

“Oh yes. We gabbed, kidded around, talked about people. She was fine. Nobody was lurking about, if that’s what you mean.”

“Now will you tell the chief and these people what you told Sergeant Hilver this morning.”

Miss Bettiger looked uncomfortable. “Well, I don’t think it was important. It was just talk.”

“Go ahead, please.”

“We talked about men. We do that a lot, I guess, maybe too much. Mary was laughing about what she called her ‘reserve love nest.’ She said there was this man who had been making a big play and he kept trying to give her a key to a place he had rented somewhere in town. She said if she ever wanted to hide, that would be the place, because he wouldn’t dare give her away.”

“Did she tell you his name?”

I did not dare look over at Dodd and Nancy. I was afraid of what I’d see on their faces. “No, she didn’t tell me his name. She just said he’s married. She made a big joke of it.”

Kruslov turned to Mr. Pryor. “Mr. Pryor, do you think Miss Olan could be at that apartment or room or house she spoke of to Miss Bettson?”

“Bettiger,” the girl said.

“Sorry. Miss Bettiger.”

Uncle Willy said hotly, “I think it’s a damned outrage to suggest any such thing. Mary is a good girl. She’s unpredictable, but basically good. She’d be no part of any cheap arrangement like that. If she was I’d... I’d throw her out of my home. I’m raising three daughters here.” I saw the bulge of his brown forearms and was convinced.

“I still think we have to consider that as a possibility,” Captain Kruslov said. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Raymond. Did you notice anything at all suspicious about Saturday night?”

They looked at each other and I read Nancy’s lips as she said to go ahead. “No,” Dodd said. “It was a perfectly standard evening.”

“Did Miss Olan drink too much?”

“I... well, yes. Frankly, she did.”

“Was she in the habit of drinking too much?”

“No.”

“Why did she drink so much Saturday?”

“I don’t think she intended to. I think she made a mistake ordering. She got thirsty playing golf and she should have started on something tall instead of cocktails.”

“Did you witness the quarrel between her and Mr. Sewell?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Would you tell us about it?”

“That’s very simple. Clint was trying to help her. He wanted her to stop drinking. She got nasty about it, but Clint didn’t. He just kept coaxing her and after she made quite a little scene at the bar, she let him lead her out of there. I thought he handled it rather well. It really wasn’t anything important.”

“A drunken woman is a despicable thing,” Willy said firmly. “It is always important.”

“I mean the quarrel wasn’t important, Mr. Pryor.”

“Did you or your wife notice anyone hanging around, or see anything you thought odd at the time?”

“No sir. I guess we left a few minutes before Mr. Sewell left with Miss Olan. I understand he planned to drive her home and take a cab from here. Later he told me that...”

“Never mind that. You saw nothing out of line.”

“No sir.”

Kruslov turned to me. He moved closer to me than he had to the others. He looked more intent. I gave him exactly the same story I had given the two cops. He took me over it twice. I didn’t especially care for his manner. I wondered if he was getting even for the times I had chewed out his brother.

“So when she drove away you went right to bed.”

“I’ve told you that.”

“What time was it?”

“Two-thirty. Something like that.”

“You went right to sleep.”

“Yes. I was tired.”

“Your landlady says you didn’t get in until four.”

“Does she? I can’t help that. I was in by two-thirty, and asleep by no later than two-thirty-five. She must be mistaken.”

“She is positive that a car drove in at four.”

“Captain, I’m a very sound sleeper. Your sergeant over there can verify that. It is entirely possible that one of my less responsible friends drove in at four and couldn’t wake me and drove away again.”

He dropped that line and went back to the questions he had asked the others. “Did you see anything suspicious? Did any car follow you? Anything like that?”

“No, I didn’t see...”

“What’s the matter?”

“I just remembered something. Mary and I sat out in her car in my driveway for a few minutes and talked. Somebody came into the driveway, backed out and went away. I figured they were just turning around. I just now remembered it.”

Kruslov gave a grunt of satisfaction. “There’s a new fact. It could mean something. Did the car lights shine on you?”

“Yes they did. The top was down. I’ll tell you more than I have to, Captain. At the moment we were illuminated, I happened to be kissing Miss Olan.”

“Are you in love with her?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I kiss her goodnight. Now here’s some more while we’re at it. We made a date to go up to the lake yesterday. I went anyway, thinking she’d show up. She was going to pick me up at noon. It was entirely possible that I would have been pounding my ear, so I gave her a key. I went in and got it, and took it out to her. So that if I was still sleeping she could come in and drag me out of the sack so we wouldn’t be held up. But I assure you, Captain, that the key I gave her is not the love nest key she spoke to Miss Bettiger about. I had no such designs on Miss Olan. No, that doesn’t sound right. I had designs, I’m that normal. But they didn’t include setting up a menage of that special type.”

The phone on the free form desk rang. The police stenographer jumped, picked it up timidly, spoke into it in an inaudible voice.

He held the phone out. “For you, Captain sir.”

Kruslov walked heavily over and took the phone. “Yes...? Yes... I see... Where...? No, that’s okay... Yes, I’ll tell them.”

He hung up. He had his own little sense of drama. He walked back to the middle of the room and said, “They found her.”

“Is she all right?” Uncle Willy asked.

“She was strangled to death. Probably some time Saturday night. Her body was dumped in the brush up in the hills, a half mile or so off the main road. Damnedest thing. There was a troop of Brownies on a hike yesterday. What the hell are Brownies? One little girl wandered off and saw the body and was too scared to tell anybody. Today she was so upset her mother finally got her to talk and drove her up there to prove it was just the little girl’s imagination. But it wasn’t. She got hold of the state troopers.”

In the long silence Willy said softly, “Oh my God.”

Myrna leaned forward and put her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook gently. I looked over at the Raymonds. Nancy held her head high, her face tilted slightly upward. From a long high window, a sort of skylight effect, the light of the pale grey day came down, touching the delicacy of her face, the parted lips. Cherry glow of fire made a highlight on the soft line of her jaw. It was a face almost without expression, clear, clean and perfect. If there was any expression, it was as though she listened for some expected sound. Dodd sat with his head bent, staring at his large clenched fist as though he held something small there, captive.