Boos stroked his fleshy nose.
“Well, okay, I’ll talk to Jefferson. We’ll have the body exhumed right away.” He got to his feet. “Do you happen to know where Mrs Delaney is?”
Harmas said, “She’s in Los Angeles looking for work. Her attorney, Macklin, will know where you can contact her.”
“Okay, Mr Maddox,” Boos said. “I’ll take it from here. I’ll let you know how it develops.” He turned to me. “I’m going to lock up this place and seal it. I want the set left just where it is. Did she ask you to sell the set?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ll talk to her.”
“Let me have a copy of the p.m. report,” Maddox said as he started for the door. He paused abruptly to look at me. “You’ll be needed as a witness for us, Mr Regan. Thanks for what you’ve done so far.”
He and Harmas went down to the Packard and drove away.
That left Boos and myself alone.
Boos stared after the departing Packard.
“That guy!” There was a note of admiration in his voice. “What a police officer he would have made! He can smell murder a hundred miles away, and I’ve never known him to be wrong. Well, I’d better seal this joint up. You got the key?”
I handed him the key.
“Okay, Regan, be seeing you at the trial,” and he started down the passage to the back door, humming under his breath.
I left the cabin and got into my truck.
It wasn’t until I was back in my cabin and had drunk two fingers of straight Scotch that I began to recover my nerve.
Could they prove a case against Gilda?
I knew Delaney had died by an electric shock. How could they hope to prove that Gilda had been responsible?
I would be crazy to give myself up until I knew for certain that she was in danger. I must wait and see what happened. Then, if it looked bad for her, I would tell Boos the truth.
The following afternoon I drove down to Glyn Camp. I left the truck in the parking lot and walked over to Jefferson’s office.
I found him sitting at his desk, a bewildered, brooding expression in his eyes.
“Hello, son,” he said. “Come on in and sit down.”
I sat down and watched him lift the jar of apple jack into sight from behind his desk. He poured two shots into glasses and pushed one of the glasses over to me.
“Well, the thing’s happened I didn’t want to happen,” he said. “I had at the back of my mind that Delaney’s death wasn’t all that straightforward. If I had known he had signed that insurance policy, I would have made a much closer investigation.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“They’re holding the p.m. now. They’ve got Allison, the Medical Officer from LA, to handle it. They exhumed the poor fella last night.”
“You know Maddox thinks Mrs Delaney did it?” I said.
Jefferson nodded.
“There’s a man I could never get along with. That girl wouldn’t hurt a fly. I haven’t been dealing with people for sixty years without learning who is a bad “un and who isn’t. I’m willing to bet she didn’t do it.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t think it’s murder,” Jefferson went on. “I think it was suicide. She got tired of living with him and she left him. He was down to his last buck, and with her leaving him, it was too much for him. Somehow he managed to get the back off the TV set. Don’t ask me how, but a desperate man can do things that most people think impossible.”
“Have they talked to her yet?” I asked.
“They can’t find her. She’s vanished.”
I stiffened, slopping my drink.
“Vanished? Doesn’t Macklin know where she is?”
“No. He had a letter from her saying she was moving from the room she rented and was looking for somewhere else to stay. When she found something, she would let him know. That was three days ago. He hasn’t heard from her, and Boos is hinting she’s got in a panic and bolted.”
“Can’t they trace her by her car?”
“She’s sold it.”
The sound of heavy steps coming along the passage made both of us look sharply towards the door which jerked open.
Lieutenant Boos stood in the doorway. There was a smirking look of truimph in his close-set eyes. He came in, kicking the door shut.
“How do you like it?” he said, addressing Jefferson. “The guy wasn’t electrocuted at all!”
I sat forward, staring at him, scarcely believing I had heard aright.
Jefferson too was staring.
“If he wasn’t electrocuted, then how did he die?” he asked, a croak in his voice.
“He was poisoned,” Boos said. He put two big, red hairy hands on Jefferson’s desk, and leaning forward, went on, “He was murdered! Someone fed him enough cyanide to wipe out half this goddam town!”
III
The big moon floated serenely in the night sky, casting a brilliant white light over my cabin and garden.
I sat on the verandah, smoking. The time was a little after ten o’clock.
I was still stunned by the news Boos had shot into our laps. I could scarcely believe that Delaney had died of poisoning and that I hadn’t after all killed him. I was beginning now to savour the realization with an overwhelming feeling of relief that by a trick of fate I was not after all a murderer. The knowledge that I could now no longer be arrested, tried, found guilty and put in the gas chamber gave me a buoyant feeling of freedom.
But if it was good news for me, it was serious news for Gilda.
Not for one moment did I believe she had poisoned Delaney. I was sure Jefferson was right when he had said the thought of losing her and knowing he had no money left had been too much for Delaney. He had taken the easy way out — he had killed himself.
If I hadn’t planned to kill him, if I hadn’t gone to the cabin and set the stage so that it would look as if he had been electrocuted, Gilda would not be in the perilous position she was in now.
To save her, I might still have to tell the police what I had done. Attempted murder was a serious charge. I could get a twenty-year sentence. The thought turned me cold.
The sound of a car coming up the road brought me to my feet. I went to the verandah rail and watched Jefferson’s old Ford bump up my drive-in.
He came slowly up the verandah steps.
“Come in and have a drink,” I said, wondering what he was doing up here.
He sat down while I made a couple of highballs. I looked at him. He was pulling,at his moustache, a brooding expression in his eyes. I saw, with surprise, he wasn’t wearing his sheriff’s star. This was the first time since I had known him that he hadn’t worn it.
He saw me staring and he smiled ruefully.
“I turned it in this afternoon. It’s always better to walk out than to be kicked out.”
“You mean you have resigned office?”
“That’s it. It’s time I did. I’ve got beyond the job.” He took the highball. -*Truth to tell, now I’ve taken the plunge, it’s a relief. I can sit on the fence and watch the other fella do the work. I’m sorry it finished this way. It’s my own fault. I should have resigned years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I said and I meant it.
“I didn’t come up here to talk about myself. Have you heard about Mrs Delaney?”
A cold creepy sensation crawled over me.