Hicks glanced at Brager, and back at Judith. “But he’s not scared yet. Okay. There was no blood, or very little. He dumped Cooper’s body out of the window, maybe went outside to arrange it in a good position, removed the record of the shot he had made and put it on the playing machine, and placed the playing machine against the open window. Then he went to the house to get an audience. It didn’t matter much who the audience was, but the one he had the most plausible excuse for was Miss Gladd, so he took her. They arrived here and found Cooper not present, to Brager’s pretended astonishment. He went into the laboratory to see if Cooper was there, the real reason he went, of course, being to switch on the playing machine. He scooted back in here to rejoin Miss Gladd, and in a minute bang went the shot. Since that partition is soundproof, and windows were open, it sounded as if the shot was outdoors. Naturally, they ran out—”
Heather blurted incredulously, “Then George wasn’t — it wasn’t that shot that killed him?”
“Sure it was,” Hicks assured her. “He was killed by the shot you heard, only you didn’t hear it until half an hour or so after it was fired. And you’ve just heard it again. So will the judge and jury when the time comes. It’s an extremely convenient arrangement. It will be the first time in history that the sound of the shot itself is used as evidence in a murder trial.”
District Attorney Corbett spoke for the first time. “If it is admissible,” he squeaked.
“Pooh,” Hicks admonished him. “Found as it was right there in a cabinet? That was the biggest blunder you made, Brager. I admit it presented a problem, since Miss Gladd was here with you until the police came, and that plastic is indestructible, but it does seem you might have done better than merely stick it in among other records in the cabinet. I suppose you figured that no one would have brains enough to look for it, and of course you would have had a chance later to remove it if Beck hadn’t kept men here. It took them only an hour to dig it up after I tipped Corbett off. If I were you I wouldn’t build any hope on Corbett’s misgiving about its being admissible as evidence. Take my word for it, that shot will be heard by a judge and jury. And still you’re not scared?”
“That shot,” Brager said contemptuously. “That record of a shot was made for experiment many weeks ago. I will say that one thing. Beyond that I say nothing.”
“I’m surprised you say that much,” Hicks declared. “I expected you to go dumb on me. One other thing, your phoning that message to Miss Gladd that sent her to where Vail was waiting. I’ll bet you thought that was slick as grease. You thought it would drag Vail out into the light, and then he would have to stand by you no matter how many murders you committed. But you were wrong. There’s one risk Vail won’t take. At least I don’t think he will.”
Hicks’s eyes darted, stabbed at Vail. “How about it? Where do you go from here?”
Vail sat motionless, frozen. It did not appear that he was aware that Hicks was looking at him or had spoken to him, for his own eyes, narrowed to nothing by the drooping fleshy folds of his lids, were directed only at space.
“It’s a question,” Hicks went on to him, “of throwing out the baby to appease the wolves. If Corbett can convict Brager of murder without your help, he can convict you as an accessory. Knowing Corbett, I can assure you he will do just that, if you hold out on him. That’s the risk if you play it pat. If you come clean and help Corbett, Brager is a pushover. His conviction is a cinch, and you’re out as far as murder is concerned, but you’ll have to settle with Dundee about the formulas, and you may have to find a new place to eat lunch. It’s six of one and about three dozen of the other. And you choose now. If you talk now and sign a statement, you go home. If you don’t, you go along with Brager. That is official. Is that official, Corbett?”
“It is,” Corbett declared. “That’s about the size of it, Mr. Vail.”
“Damn you!” Vail said through his teeth; and his eyes, malevolent still but no longer wary, aimed at Hicks, left no doubt as to whom he was damning. “If he had killed you too it would be worth it!”
“Ah,” said Hicks, “I see you prefer to go home.”
Not even then did Brager, staring popeyed across at Judith Dundee, look scared.
Twenty-five
Since it was after six o’clock Saturday evening, Rosario Garci should have been attending to his duties in the kitchen, but for the fifth time in half an hour there he was, pretending he had an errand in the dining room. His wife, moving among the tables of customers with dishes, cast amused but nevertheless heedful glances at him out of the corner of her eye.
To one of the customers Rosario was speaking:
“Excuse me, Mr. Heecks, but you know what? If you want my opinion.”
“Shoot, Rosy.”
“This lady.” Rosario was gazing with the frankest admiration at the face of Hicks’s companion. “I say this with my heart. Of all the ladies you have brought to eat here with you, this one is the flower! She is the Queen! Absolute! So do you know what? I own this building. I can do anything I feel like with this building, tear it down, build it up, anything I want! Okay. I have been thinking. That floor where your room is, there are four rooms on that floor. One I can make a beautiful bathroom. I can make doors. In the little room, a window. New paint everywhere—”
“No, Rosy. It’s a swell idea, but no go.”
“Why no go?”
“Because the lady is in love with another man. God knows why. If you could see him — you can see him! Turn around and look at him. Here he comes.”
“This,” Heather Gladd said, coloring, “is simply ridiculous.”
Whether it was Rosario’s suggestion, or Hicks’s statement, or the sudden arrival of Ross Dundee, that was simply ridiculous, was not clear. Rosario backed off a step, and looked both astonished and disappointed when the newcomer was received amicably by Hicks and invited to a chair at the table. Mrs. Garci approached, and was asked to bring another set of utensils and the antipasto. Rosario retreated to the kitchen, shaking his head.
“This looks like a nice place,” Ross Dundee said. “I like this kind of a place.”
“How’s your mother?” Hicks asked. “Have you seen her?”
“No, but I phoned her as soon as I got up, around three o’clock. She and Dad were getting ready to go out to Litchfield, a little place they have there. Right now they’re probably playing badminton and fighting like fiends. They always do when they play badminton. Mom beats him.”
“She may let him win this time to quiet his nerves.”
“I doubt it.” Ross surveyed the antipasto. “It looks wonderful, but I’m not hungry.” He forked two or three onto his plate. “I ate like a horse when I got up.” He looked at Heather. “Did you eat?”
Heather met his eyes. “Look here,” she said determinedly, “we might as well settle this now. You’ve got to stop following me around. Last night you followed me, and you wouldn’t get out of the car, you insisted on going along, and that was all right, I mean I admitted that at the time, you know I did, after you jumped at him and took the gun away from him. But your following me into town today, and following me here—”
“I didn’t follow you here.”
“Certainly you did! How could you—”
“He didn’t,” Hicks said.
Heather gasped at him. “He didn’t?”
“No. I invited him here.” Hicks broke a piece of bread. “For a purpose. But before I go into that I’ll answer the question you asked a minute ago. You asked how I knew it was Brager. The answer is, I didn’t.”
They both stared. Ross demanded, “What do you mean, you didn’t?”
“I mean I didn’t know it was Brager until last night. I thought it was Vail. He had an alibi for Thursday afternoon, but I supposed it was phony. But as soon as I learned of that fake message phoned to Mrs. Darby, I knew Vail was out. He couldn’t have sent it, because he didn’t know you were there in that car, and besides, there was no conceivable reason why he would want to bring you to him in that way.”