The Line Is Dead | Page 8

She was a small, blonde person, with a confiding and wide- eyed expression. Without anything savoring of helplessness, she had an appealing manner that could be depended upon to get people, male or female, to do things for her instead of letting her sweat out her own problems. It may have been the softness of her voice, combined with the soft lines of her attractive face, that evoked that protective urge. Carver, sensing the effect at once, set up his guards; and at the same time, he understood how easy it had been for Alma to have been baited into the role she had played.
Carver lost little time getting to the point.
He cut in, abruptly, "Why did Wayland go to your husband's place tonight?"
"But--but he didn't! He wasn't there. He couldn't've been, he and I were together all evening."
"With who else?"
"Why, just each other."
"About the worst and feeblest alibi imaginable. Either deal it straight, or deal with someone else. If he wasn't there, how come someone tagged him?"
"He was framed!" Indignation choked her.
"The criminal framed him."
"If the killer did that, it was to cover himself. But you two might've been with a crowd, and then it'd been no good at all.
Whoever phoned either saw Wayland around there, or saw someone that looked like Wayland, or else knew that you two were in a huddle here, without any real alibi--and, knew that Wayland and your husband were all primed to tangle about you. There was something that made Wayland seem useful for covering up.
"And another thing. Wayland saw a police car pull up at his place. He had so strong a hunch they wanted him for real troub1e that he buzzed you. He'd not have phoned if it'd been a traffic rap he'd been expecting, unless maybe it'd been hit and run driving, after he left you." Carver picked up his hat. "Suppose Wayland dummies up? First thing the police do is corner his friends, asking about his other friends, particularly women. Your name will pop up. Then the fun begins.
"Whenever a man is knocked off, his widow and her boy friend are the first ones to be sweated. You can tell them, or you can tell me. I won't monkey with this as long as you hold out."
HE GRABBED the door knob. That brought Cornelia to her feet with a flurry of robe and a twinkle of legs. "Wait! We were there, Denny and I: we found him." She fairly poured it out now. "It was the most sickening and horrible thing. We were so shocked we just got out, and quick. Afraid to report it, for fear the call'd be traced. And we'd be in it."
"What'd you go there for in the first place?" Cornelia's glance shifted to Alma, who gave her a nod. She answered, "I'd written a threatening letter, of a sort--not realizing I was playing right into Herb's hands, if ever I did get cause for suing him. So, Denny and I went to look for the note. We thought he'd be away tonight."
Alma cut in, "They counted on my being out to dinner with Herb. And when you and I and he had words, and he walked out, I didn't stop to think he might go back home. I was so sure he'd make a point of caging another date, just to show me. And when it did occur to me to phone Cornelia, she was out."
"Begins to shape up," Carver admitted. "Get the note?"
Cornelia shuddered. "After what we saw, we just cleared out in a panic, once we got over the shock." Then, triumphantly, "But Denny must have had it in mind when the police pulled up. That's why the sight of them made him call me. That note--they'd found it, and put two and two together. Just as you said, widow and her boy friend are the first suspects. It wasn't signed, but they'd start figuring on us."
"You still have a key to your husband's house? All right, and you're entitled to go in. So am I, if you tell me to."
"But why? I never want to see--"
"You won't mind, when it's cleaned up. He had an enemy. Finding who it was is the best way to spring Wayland. Alma tells me your husband kept notes on everything."
"Did he! He even kept cash register receipts from every bar," Cornelia affirmed. "A mania with him. A record of everything. No, not stingy--just a methodical streak."
"OK," Carver said. "No matter what the police find and take along as exhibits, there will be things that won't mean anything to them. That's where you and I will get busy, and Alma, too. Looking for what points away from Wayland. All right, get dressed, we're going places."
"Oh, good God--not there and not tonight! Anyway, it is probably still