“Shot.”
“Here?”
“Over at the laboratory.”
“Anybody charged?”
“I don’t know. That’s all I know. Nobody ever tells me anything. I get it on the radio when I go home.”
The man opened the door and disappeared. In a few minutes he emerged again and told Hicks, “Come on in. It looks like you’re welcome.”
District Attorney Corbett was installed again in the large and pleasant living room, at the big table with the reading lamp. Standing across the table from him was R. I. Dundee, and at one end of it a stenographer was seated. At the other end Manny Beck slouched in a chair. A policeman was just inside the door, and a man in plain clothes was in the background. When Hicks entered Corbett was speaking to Dundee in a tone of exasperation. That alone answered several questions for Hicks, knowing as he did that Corbett rarely addressed anyone old enough to vote in tones of exasperation, particularly a man of position and property like Dundee. Corbett was saying:
“Certainly you’re not under arrest. Certainly not! No one is under arrest! But under the circumstances I have a right to insist on your co-operation as a responsible citizen and ask you not to leave here without permission. It is a fact that neither you nor your son can furnish corroboration of your whereabouts at the time Cooper was killed. I didn’t say you are suspected of murder. And your remark about persecution of your wife is utterly unwarranted. Utterly!”
“We’ll see,” Dundee sputtered angrily. “I’ll stay here till my lawyer comes. I want to use the phone again.”
“Certainly. This one?”
“I’ll go upstairs.”
“One more question before you go. About Hicks. You said you sent him here yesterday on confidential business. Did you send him here today on the same business?”
“Hicks?” Dundee turned and saw him. “No!” he blurted, and tramped out.
Hicks went to a chair near the table, sat down, and observed, “When he’s mad he’s mad.”
Corbett made no reply. He offered no hand and was obviously in no condition to make a pretense of geniality. He looked at Hicks as if he had never seen him before, chewed at his lip, and said nothing.
Manny Beck snarled savagely, “Where have you been?”
“My goodness,” Hicks protested, “I seem to have come to the wrong place.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Born in Missouri. Boyhood on a farm. Harvard. Graduated law school 1932— Where have I been when?”
“Since you left the courthouse this afternoon.”
“New York.”
“Where in New York?”
“Now listen. Name a time and I’ll name a place.”
“Six thirty.”
“Joyce’s restaurant on 41st Street, eating baked oysters. The waiter and the hatcheck girl will sign it. I left there a little before seven and drove straight here.”
Beck grunted and glared. Corbett’s baby mouth looked as if he intended to whistle, but instead he spoke:
“You missed out with your trio on the alibi today. Only two of you made it.”
“Two is better than one,” Hicks said sententiously. “Provided they jibe.”
“They jibe all right. Your two pals. Have you discussed it with them?”
“As I told you, I just got here.”
“I thought you might have had a phone call at that restaurant, say a little after six thirty. Maybe the waiter would sign that too. I thought perhaps you left just after getting a phone call.”
“Nope. No phone call.”
“What did you come out here for?”
“I was under the impression I came on Dundee’s business, but he says not. So I guess I’m investigating a murder. I’m finding out who killed Martha Cooper.”
Manny Beck grunted. Corbett said sarcastically, “That’s kind of you.”
“Not at all. I’m interested.”
“A few hours ago you were trying to trade in her husband.”
“Yes, I know. Of course that’s out, now that you’ve got him in custody. He can’t very well slip away again if he’s dead.”
“Who told you he’s dead?”
“A gentleman out front informed me. I’ll be glad to discuss it with you if you’ll tell me the details. All I know is that it happened at the laboratory, and he was shot. So naturally you have the advantage of me.”
“That’s a goddam shame!” Beck rasped. “I swear to God, Ralph—”
“Be quiet,” Corbett admonished him. “Look here, Hicks. At the moment I have no way of tightening any screws on you. Being a very smart man, you know that. You also know that while I am not as smart as you are, I am not half-witted. Let me ask you a question. Do you know what happened here about two hours ago?”
“No.”
“No one phoned you about it?”
“No.”
“For the present I’ll accept that. About a quarter to six Brager was in the office at the laboratory building when the door opened and Cooper walked in. This is what Brager says. Cooper sat down and started to talk. He was rambling, incoherent. He talked about his wife, and his life being ruined, and he didn’t kill her but he was going to find out who did, that was all he wanted to live for. He went on and on. When Brager went to the telephone Cooper wouldn’t let him use it. Finally Cooper started on the subject of his sister-in-law, Heather Gladd. He thought Heather knew something about her sister’s death that she would tell him if he got a chance to talk with her, and that was what he had come for. He was so earnest about it that Brager believed him and took pity on him. So Brager says.”
Hicks nodded. “I wouldn’t quote you on it.”
“Right. Brager went to the house and found Heather in the kitchen with Mrs. Powell and Dundee. Corroborated. He got her away by a pretext, and on the way to the laboratory told her about Cooper wanting to see her. When they got there Cooper wasn’t in the office where Brager had left him. Brager looked in the laboratory. No Cooper. He returned to the office and they were discussing the situation when there was the sound of a shot. Right in their ears. That’s the way Heather put it. Windows were open. Brager went to the window and then outdoors, and Heather followed him. Cooper was lying on the west side of the building, two feet from the wall, dead. Brager thought he heard someone moving in the woods, but saw no one, and the sound stopped. He went in the office and phoned. They both stayed right there until the police arrived. Bullet hole in Cooper’s right temple. No powder burns. No weapon found.”
Hicks was frowning. “Does Miss Gladd confirm all that?”
Corbett nodded. “To a T. She is a charming girl. A very beautiful girl.”
“Are you talking to me?”
“Well.” Corbett looked at Manny Beck and back at Hicks again. A little sound which could have been called a chuckle escaped from him. “God knows I don’t blame you for having good eyes and a warm heart. Remember you haven’t confided in me. For instance, you may or may not know that Cooper was madly in love with the younger sister before he married — and when he married — the older one.”
“I wasn’t acquainted with them.”
“Neither was I. But naturally we’ve been checking up. You know how these things are. A lot of ideas come to you, most of them foolish, but you keep trying. First we were interested in Cooper, then when he was out, one idea we got was about Heather. Cooper came out here to see her Monday evening. In a jealous scrap with her sister, you know? In a rage, temper? She could easily have swung that candlestick.”
“I get it.” Hicks smiled at him. “I alibied her because she has a pretty face and nice legs. I sure go cheap. What about Brager?”
“There is reason to believe that he is by no means immune to female charms. And she has been living right here in the house with him for over a year.”
Uh-huh, Hicks thought, you’ve been looking under blotters too. He said, “Of course I ought to be indignant, but I’ll save it. What about Cooper, then? I’ll bet she shot him. Sure she did, and Brager’s got her alibied for that too. That puts him one up on me.”