Vail emitted a noncommittal grunt.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s ingenious,” Vail admitted. “But it seems unnecessarily devious.”
“On the contrary. It’s far more plausible than your suggestion that Dundee faked the record nearly a year ago and kept it all that time before using it. As you know, he’s an impetuous man. What I want to know, is it technically possible? Could a sonotel record be faked by using — only for parts of it — scraps from other records?”
“Certainly. Any good technician could do it.”
“Fine.” Hicks looked pleased. “That settles that detail. That was the chief thing that bothered me, though there are one or two other little points—”
Judith cut in, “This is perfectly absurd! I don’t believe it and I never will believe it.”
“Nobody expects you to,” Hicks told her. “We are theorizing.”
“Then why go on with this crazy—”
“We go on because it’s interesting. Very interesting. Also because I’m expecting a phone call from District Attorney Corbett and this is as good a way to pass the time as any. Better than any. I don’t believe you appreciate the exceptional beauty of Vail’s theory, especially since we’ve established the possibility that the sonotel record was faked by using another record or records of Martha Cooper’s voice. It will stand more wear and tear than any other theory I’ve ever met. Say, for instance, that your husband could prove, somehow or other, no matter how, that he didn’t fake that record, and he didn’t kill Martha Cooper, and he didn’t kill George Cooper. Under such a blow as that most theories would totally collapse, but not this one. It would remain intact. All you would have to do would be to substitute someone else as the murderer, either your son or Vail himself.”
Ross, scowling, blurted truculently, “Look here—”
Hicks waved him away. “Forget it, son. I’m not going to pick on a tough baby like you, leaping over cars at armed men. I’ll use Vail instead, to show what I mean. If you don’t object?”
A corner of Vail’s thin mouth had a twist to it. “It seems to me that we’re not here to pass the time. You say you are expecting a call from the district attorney. I want to say, I must warn you, all of you, that if my name is dragged into this, if I am brought into this in any way, I shall be compelled to give the authorities the whole story. Omitting nothing.”
“Sure,” Hicks agreed. “We understand that.” He went back to Mrs. Dundee: “To show you about that theory. Let’s say Vail faked that record and did the murders, for example. You’d hardly have to change a thing, only a few details. Why did he fake the record? To lead suspicion away from the individual in the Dundee organization — a confidential secretary or assistant — from whom he had been getting the Dundee formulas. How did he fake the record? The confidential secretary noticed that among the experimental records from Katonah were some with a voice exactly like Mrs. Dundee’s, and that gave him the idea, which he passed on to Vail. They didn’t even have to find someone to imitate Vail’s voice, Vail did that part himself. In that detail, at least, it’s an improvement on Vail’s original theory. How did they plant the fake record? Simple. The confidential secretary merely inserted it in the case of records that had been delivered to Dundee by the detective agency as coming from Vail’s office.”
Vail stood up. “If this is a display of virtuosity—” he began contemptuously.
“Sit down,” Hicks said.
“I don’t intend—”
“I said sit down! If Ross could knock you cold, all alone, and you with a gun, you can imagine what we could do if we went at it together. I listened to you expounding your theory, and as a matter of courtesy you can listen to my variation. When that phone call comes I’ll get practical. Good God, look at you. Do you want an ice bag for that bump?”
Vail, not replying, went back to his chair. His gaze, presumably, was fixed on Hicks; there was no way of telling. Hicks resumed to Judith:
“Last Monday, Monday morning, Vail got bad news. He saw in the paper that Mr. and Mrs. George Cooper had returned from Europe. That was awful, since the trap had already been baited and Dundee had taken the bait. If Dundee or his son met Martha Cooper, as they well might, since her sister worked for them, their suspicion would be aroused and the whole thing would certainly be exposed, and both Vail’s business and his reputation would be ruined. From there on my variation pretty well follows the original. Vail, who has plenty of sand and daring, not only proceeded to remove Martha Cooper, he did it at a place and in a way to throw suspicion on the Dundees. And this afternoon, at my room, he learned that Cooper knew about that sonotel record and had actually heard it, or part of it, and intended to investigate it. Of course that wouldn’t do. Cooper had announced that he was going to Katonah, so Vail went there too. From where he left his car on that deserted road, it’s only a fifteen-minute walk, cross-country, mostly woods, to the Dundee place. No doubt his report of his conversations with Brager is true to fact — it must be, since he is expecting Brager to corroborate it. So after he shot Cooper he went back to his car and waited there, ostensibly, for Brager to send Cooper to him.”
“You know,” Vail said quietly, “this is interesting. But I’m wondering why you’re wasting time with it, or even passing time, because you certainly haven’t given it much thought. For instance, Martha Cooper. According to the account in the paper, she was killed between three and four o’clock. From three to six yesterday afternoon I was in my factory in Bridgeport. That of course would make it difficult—”
A bell rang.
Everybody jerked around. Hicks arose, saw that Ross too was up and crossing to a cabinet against the far wall, and was there at the young man’s elbow as he swung out a phone bracket and lifted the receiver. Ross spoke into the phone, turned and said, “For you,” and handed it to Hicks.
If Vail, or anyone, expected any elucidation from Hicks’s end of the conversation, they were disappointed. It was brief, and his contribution was chiefly a series of yesses. At the end he said, “We’ll start right away,” replaced the instrument, and turned to the group:
“Okay, folks. We’re all set. Off for Katonah.”
They looked at him in astonishment. Then they all spoke at once, but Vail’s voice dominated:
“I warn you, all of you! This man’s a fool! Get Dick here! I’ll have it out with Dick face to face! Judith! Ross! I warn you — let go of me, damn you!”
Hicks had his arm. “Listen, brother,” Hicks said grimly. “Your warning days are over. We’re going to Katonah and that includes you. On the hoof or in a package?”
Twenty-four
At a quarter to three in the morning all lights were on in the office of the Dundee laboratory, at the apex of the meadow triangle surrounded by woods. The night was sultry and oppressive, not a foretaste of the frosty month to come, but rather a left-over from the one supposed to have departed weeks ago; and the cricket and katydid concert, entering through the open windows, was desultory and disheartened, irritating to weary and nervous ears in its feeble stridency. No less irritating to tired and nervous eyes was the glancing of the lights off the slick surfaces of the pink desk and the purple one, the gray and yellow table, the chairs and various gadgets in all conceivable colors.