Return Of The Thin Man Part 24

The medical examiner goes out.

VanSlack looks worriedly at the bullet hole, at the gun, at the bedside lamp, gla.s.s, etc., at the dead man, and then at Nick, and says uncertainly: "We'll say, for instance, that MacFay heard the murderer-he could have come in through either the door or the window-we ought to be able to find out which-and grabbed the gun." He turns to the deputy sheriff and says: "From the looks of that hole, Les, where would you say the bullet was fired from?"

Les says: "I figure it had to come from pretty close to the floor there alongside the bed."

VanSlack: "Then the murderer was already bearing down on his arm when MacFay got the shot away; or it could be, with one of those old guns, that it went off when it hit the floor after the murderer had broken his arm and made him drop it." He says to Nick: "I hope this sounds reasonable to you."

Nick says: "It does-and a paraffin test would tell you whether MacFay pulled the trigger or the gun went off after it hit the floor, if that point's worth bothering about."

VanSlack says: "Well, we always try to be as thorough as we can. So next, our murderer would have knocked MacFay back on the pillow with that blow on the temple, perhaps stunning him, and then cut his throat, pulling the bed-clothes over him to keep the blood from spurting around. Now we've got to try and figure out how he entered and left. What do you think on that point, Mr. Charles?"

Nick says: "One of the servants said the front door was open."

VanSlack says: "But if you and the other gentlemen came as soon as you heard the shot, wouldn't you have seen or heard, or-you know what I mean?"

Nick says: "This room's right at the head of the stairs. I didn't get here that quick. The lights were out, you know, and I had to stop to find a candle."

VanSlack says vaguely: "Oh, the lights went out."

Nick says: "Yes, the servant says a fuse blew out. An electrician ought to be able to tell you whether it could have happened when the wires were torn out of that upset lamp."

VanSlack says: "Oh yes-an electrician. Certainly."

Nick says: "You know about Sam Church?"

VanSlack says: "Yes-and the Negro. We're doing everything we can to catch them, of course. But sometimes it's so hard to find people. Now there are a couple of other things I'd like to ask your help on."

Nick, imitating VanSlack: "My help-oh yes-certainly."

Elsewhere in the house, other members of the household are being questioned separately.

In the living room a uniformed trooper is saying to Dudley Horn: "So you were asleep, huh? How long had you been asleep?"

Horn, who has put on some clothes, answers: "Half an hour-maybe three-quarters."

The Trooper asks: "What were you doing before that?"

Horn says: "Miss MacFay and I had taken a walk."

The Trooper says: "Miss MacFay, huh? The daughter?"

Horn says: "Yes. But if you'd stop wasting time here and start looking for Church-"

The Trooper interrupts him: "I got a lot of time to waste. Did MacFay know you and his daughter were out walking?"

Horn says: "Of course. I don't know. What different does that make? Miss MacFay and I are engaged."

Trooper: "Oh! So you're marrying the heiress? She is the heiress, isn't she?"

Horn says: "I suppose so. I don't actually know."

The Trooper says: "Hmm! A while back you said you used to work with this fellow Church. Are you and he still pretty close?"

Horn says: "We were never pretty close."

The Trooper says: "Oh! You didn't like each other much, huh?"

Horn says: "That's right."

The Trooper says: "Well, are you unfriends enough that it wouldn't make you mad to see him go back to the can or maybe to the chair?"

Horn stands up, saying indignantly: "If you're suggesting that I would frame him-"

The trooper puts a hand on Horn's chest and pushes him back into his chair, saying: "Don't get sore over a little thing like that. Wait'll you hear what I'm really going to suggest."

In another downstairs room, Mrs. Bellam, the housekeeper, is being questioned by a little, plump man in clothes that need pressing.

The Plump Man says: "Ain't that pretty late for a lady your age to be up?"

Mrs. Bellam: "I don't think so."

The Plump Man: "What time do you mostly go to bed?"

Mrs. Bellam: "Not often before two o'clock, and sometimes it's three or four."

The Plump Man: "Got things on your mind that worry you, keep you awake?"

Mrs. Bellam: "No, it's just that I don't sleep very much."

Plump Man: "What were you doing when you heard the shot?"

Mrs. Bellam: "Reading."

Plump Man: "Reading what?"

Mrs. Bellam: "The Bible."

Plump Man: "Oh!" then, after a pause: "Well, that's all right. How long had you been in your room?"

Mrs. Bellam: "I went up there about eleven o'clock."

Plump Man: "Were you undressed?"

Mrs. Bellam: "No."

Plump Man: "And you were in your room all the time from around eleven till you heard the shot?"

Mrs. Bellam: "That's right."

Plump Man: "And you didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary till you got to his room and saw the others there?"

Mrs. Bellam: "Not a single thing except the shot."

Plump Man: "What did you think when you found out the old man had been killed?"

Mrs. Bellam: "I was sorry."

Plump Man: "You and the Colonel get along pretty well?"

She says: "Yes. I always know what to expect from Colonel MacFay and I never expected anything different."

The Plump Man thinks that over for a moment, then gives it up and asks: "Who gets the old man's money?"

She says: "I'm sure I don't know except I always thought it would go to Miss Lois."

He asks: "Will you get any of it?"

She answers: "I'd be mighty surprised if I did."

He says: "You've been working for the old man a long time, haven't you?"

Mrs. Bellam: "Sixteen years."

The Plump Man: "And you used to know this Sam Church when he worked for the old man?"

Mrs. Bellam: "Yes, indeed, I knew him."

The Plump Man: "All right, then, make yourself comfortable and we'll have a long talk about what you know about him."

In his bedroom, Freddie is being questioned by an elderly detective who from time to time jots down notes on pieces of paper he takes from various pockets, apparently never using the same piece twice.

The Detective says: "Now, son, when you left the old man in his room after midnight, what did you do?"

Freddie says: "I came here."

Detective: "Straight here?"

Freddie: "Yes, sir."

Detective: "You didn't hear or see anything until the shot came?"

Freddie: "That's right."

Detective: "Where were you when you heard it-in bed?"

Freddie: "No, sir."

Detective: "Where were you?"

Freddie: "Sitting at that table."

Detective: "Undressed yet?"

Freddie: "No sir."

Detective: "Well, you must have been doing something."

Freddie: "I-I had some work to do. I was writing."

Detective: "Writing what?"

Freddie stammers and finally says: "A play. I'm trying to write a play."

Detective, in a tone of slight surprise, says: "Oh, go on!" Then: "What's it called?"

Freddie: "*The Minute-Hand.'"

Detective: "Yes? Let me see it."

Freddie goes to the table and gives him a handful of ma.n.u.script pages written in longhand.

The Detective says: "You're a private secretary-how is it you don't write this on one of those typewriters?"

Freddie: "I only get a chance to work on it late at night and I was afraid the typewriter would disturb people. Besides, when you're writing your first play, you kind of don't like people to know about it."

The detective, puzzled by this, looks at Freddie for a moment, then begins to read the play.

Presently, the Detective puts the ma.n.u.script down on his knee and says: "So you write about murders, huh? Do you think much about murders?"

Freddie says: "It's a mystery play. Lots of people write mystery plays."

The Detective says: "They do? You wouldn't happen to make a hobby of what they call criminology?"

Freddie: "No sir."

Detective: "Well, I'll have to show this to VanSlack. He might think it kind of shows how your mind works-what they call psychology." He looks down at the ma.n.u.script. "This isn't all of it, is it?"

Freddie says: "No sir. I haven't finished the second act."

The Detective says: "Hmmm! And how many acts now would a play have?"

Freddie: "Three."

Detective: "Maybe you can write the rest of it while VanSlack's reading this. Who is MacFay's lawyer?"

Freddie: "Floyd Tanner."

Detective: "The one that's always in some jam with the income tax people?"