The Line Is Dead | Page 7

was killed. But this is what you
asked for.
"And the way you are putting it, it is Wayland's girl who is important.
Look here, honey. Suppose tonight you had been with Lowry, and he
had been nabbed for murder?"
"Please, Jeff! Please do believe me; there was nothing between me and
Herb, except what I told you."
"That's not what I mean. My point is this--suppose it had been that way,
and Lowry had been nabbed, and you were fond of the guy and all
upset. Why would any girl friend of yours be all of an itch to put a
detective on the job? Unless you yourself had been in the mess, in some
way or other. What has the girl friend been up to?"
"Is that important?"
"Well, of course it is! Aside from wanting to know what I am poking
my beak into, how could I do anything if I didn't know the facts?"
"I am all in a flutter!" Alma confessed, needlessly. "Cornelia is Herb's
wife. They've not been living together for quite a few months. He won't
sue her for desertion; she wants a divorce, and isn't in a position to sue
him."
"I begin to get it now. Account of this Dennis--Denny--"
"Dennis Wayland. And Herb was holding out for pure spite."
CARVER CHUCKLED. "Saves alimony and upkeep. Begins to add up.
Wayland goes to the mat with Lowry, and somebody gets killed. I'll see
it in the morning paper, and then we can talk some more."
"But he couldn't have done it. She knows he couldn't have!"
"Oh, to hell with him! The more you tell me, the more I am willing to

bet she has red ants crawling all over her on account of something that
ties her into the killing. What is it?"
Alma eyed him for a long moment. "There is something." She caught
his hand. "Jeff, darling, will you go with me to talk to her? Let her tell
you."
He pulled a long face, frowned with a reluctance he did not by any
means feel. "Oh, give her a jingle and see! The night's pretty well shot,
and I'm getting curious, in a way."
A moment later, Alma was crossing the bridge, to do a fast job of
dressing. She had barely stepped out of her bedroom when he
demanded. "If Cornelia is such a special and dear friend of yours, how
come you're running around with her husband?"
"Oh, he didn't know that Cornelia and I knew each other. We didn't
meet--she and I didn't--until after he and she had separated. I might as
well come right out with it, Jeff, and I do hope you'll understand.
"There wasn't any job involved. I did meet Herb, and he did seem to
like me. Cornelia snapped at the chance that he would get serious and
on my account, sue her. Once he was free, I'd develop a change of heart
and in a hurry."
Carver's expression made it clear that he did not fancy her having the
role of semi- professional co-respondent. Alma continued, "It does
sound calculating and nasty. Any wonder I didn't feel like explaining?
Even though you and I weren't engaged, or anywhere near it, it would
leave a bad taste. But it wasn't quite the way it sounds; I never let him
forget he was still married. If he drew conclusions and thought that that
was all I thought wrong with him, it was his conclusion and his lookout.
If he got a divorce by mistake, he'd be no worse off than before. And he
was a dog in the manger!"
CHAPTER 3
CORNELIA LOWRY lived just beyond Audubon Park, no great

distance from the house she and her late husband had occupied.
On the way uptown, Carver asked Alma, "Mind telling me a bit about
Lowry? He had a hobby of making enemies and heckling people to
make them realize how superior he was.
When he so barged into my place, it was really the expression of his
face that invited a sock in the puss. Was he always that way?"
"No, he wasn't. Really, he was awfully agreeable, most of the time.
What put him into such a mood tonight was that this afternoon, when
he tried to call me from his home, the phone was out of order. He had
reported it that morning. The company had promised to tend to it, and
they hadn't. Then, when he came to pick me up, I was over here,
instead of being at home to buzz back the minute he rang. He simply
could not endure it when anything failed to go like clockwork."
"I begin to get it," Carver said, thoughtfully. "And it dumps a job on
my hands, trying to figure who'd