Robert Heinlein - Expanded Universe

But I didn't keep quiet. Hazel let me take her home readily enough. When I saw that she lived alone in a single apartment in a building without a doorman, I decided it called for an all night vigil and some explaining.

She stepped into the kitchenette and mixed me a drink. "One drink and out you go, Ed," she called to me. "You've been very sweet and I want to see you again and thank you, but tonight this girl goes to bed. I'm whipped."

"I'm staying all night," I announced firmly.

She came out with a drink in her hand and looked at me, both annoyed and a little puzzled. "Ed," she said, "aren't you working just a bit too fast? I didn't think you were that clumsy."

"Calm yourself, beautiful," I told her. "It's not necessarily a proposition. I'm going to watch over you. Somebody is trying to kill you."

She dropped the drink.

I helped her clean it up and explained the situation. "Somebody stabbed a girl in a dark room," I finished. "That somebody thought it was you. He knows better by now and he will be looking for a chance to finish the job. What you and I have got to figure out is: Who wants to kill you?"

She sat down and started to manhandle a handkerchief. "Nobody wants to kill me, Eddie."

"No, it wasn't."

"But it couldn't have been me. I know."

"What do you know?"

"I - Oh, it's impossible. Stay all night if you want to. You can sleep on the couch." She got up and pull the bed down out of the wall, went in the bath, closed the door, and splashed around for a while. "That bath is too small to dress and undress in," she stated flat "Anyhow I sleep raw. If you want to get undressed y won't scare me."

I said. "I'll take my coat and tie.”

"Suit yourself." Her voice was a little bit smother as she was already wiggling her dress over her head.

She wore pants and a white knit that looked clean and neat. She did not wear a brassiere and did not need to. The conception I had gotten of her figure in the Magic Mirror, entirely justified. She was simply the most magnificently beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. Even in street clothes she was a beautiful, well - built woman in her skin - wars have started over less.

I was beginning to doubt my ability to stay on the couch. I must have showed it, for she snorted, "Wipe the drool off your chin!" and stepped out of her pants.

'Scuse, please," I answered and started unlacing my shoes. She stepped over and switched off the light then went over to the one big window and raised the shade. It was closed but, with the light out, you could see outside easily. "Stand back from that window, said. "You're too good a target."

"Huh? Oh, very well." She backed up a few steps and continued to stare thoughtfully out the window. I stared thoughtfully at her. There was a big neon sign across the street and the colored lights, pouring in the window, covered her from head to foot with a rosy liquid glow. She looked like something out of a dream of fairyland.

Presently I wasn't thinking how she looked; I was thinking about another room, where a girl had lain murdered, with the lights of a night club shining through a pane of glass, shining through like this neon.

My thoughts rearranged themselves rapidly and very painfully. I added them up a second time and still got the same answer. I did not like the answer. I was glad, damn glad, she was bare naked, with no way to conceal a gun, or a knife, or any other sort of deadly weapon. "Hazel," I said softly.

She turned to me. "Yes, Eddie?"

"I've just had a new idea .. . why should anyone want to kill you?"

"You said that before. There isn't any reason."

"I know. You're right; there isn't any. But put it this way - why should you want to kill Estelle?"

I thought she was going to faint again, but I didn't care - I wanted to shock her. Her lusciousness meant nothing to me now but a trap that had confused my thoughts. I had not wanted to think her guilty, so I had disregarded the fact that of all the persons involved she was the only one with the necessary opportunity, the knowledge of the swapped shows, and at least some motive. She had made it plain that she detested Estelle. She had covered it up but it was still evident.

But most important of all, the little stage had not been dark! True, it looked dark - from the outside. You can't see through glass when all the light comes from one side and you are on that same side - but light passes through the glass just the same. The neon on the street illuminated this room we were in fairly brightly; the brilliant lights of Jack's bar illuminated the little stage even when the stage floodlights were out.

She knew that. She knew it because she had been there many times, getting ready to pose for the suckers. Therefore she knew that it was not a case of mi taken identity in the dark - there was no dark! And would have to be nearly pitch black for anyone to mi take Hazel's blue - black mane for Estelle's peroxide mop.

She knew - why hadn't she said so? She was letting me stay all night, not wanting me around but risking her reputation and more, because I had propound the wrong - girl - in - the - dark theory. She knew it would not hold water; why had she not said so?

"Eddie, have you gone crazy?" Her voice was frightened.

"No - gone sane. I'll tell you how you did it, n beautiful darling. You both were there - you admitted that. Estelle got in her pose, and asked you to pun the buzzer. You did - but first you grabbed the knife and slid it in her ribs. You wiped the handle, look around, punched the buzzer, and slammed. About ten seconds later you were slipping your arm in mine. Me - your alibi!"

"It had to be you," I went on, "for no one else would have had the guts to commit murder with nothing b glass between him and an audience. The stage w lighted - from the outside. You knew that, but it didn’t worry you. You were used to parading around nak4 in front of that glass, certain you could not be se while the house lights were on! No one else would ha dared!"

She looked at me as if she could not believe her ea and her chin began to quiver. Then she squatted do on the floor and burst into tears. Real tears - they dripped. It was my cue to go soft, but I did not. I don’t like killing.

I stood over her. "Why did you kill her? Why did you kill her?"

"Get out of here."

"Not likely. I'm going to see you fry, my big - busted angel." I headed for the telephone, keeping my eyes on her. I did not dare turn my back, even naked as she was.

She made a break, but it was not for me; it was for the door. How far she thought she could get in the buff I don't know.

I tripped her and fell on her. She was a big armful and ready to bite and claw, but I got a hammer lock on one arm and twisted it. "Be good," I warned her, "or I'll break it."

She lay still and I began to be aware that she was not only an armful but a very female armful. I ignored it. "Let me go, Eddie," she said in a tense whisper, "or I'll scream rape and get the cops in."

"Go right ahead, gorgeous," I told her. "The cops are just what I want, and quick."

"Eddie, Eddie, listen to reason - I didn't kill her, but I know who did."

"Huh? Who?"

"I know.. . I do know - but he couldn't have. That's why I haven't said anything."

"Tell me."

She didn't answer at once; I twisted her arm. "Tell me!

"Oh! It was Jack."

"Jack? Nonsense - I was watching him."

"I know. But he did it, just the same. I don't know how - but he did it."

I held her down, thinking. She watched my face. "Ed?"

"Huh?"

"If I punched the buzzer, wouldn't my fingerprint be on it?"

"Should be."

"Why don't you find out?"

It stonkered me. I thought I was right but she seemed quite willing to make the test. "Get up," I said "On your knees and then on your feet. But don't try get your arm free and don't try any tricks, or, so he me, I'll kick you in the belly."