«And home I found the man with the twenty-two and with him a dimwit called Frisky Lavon, with a bad breath and a very large gun, neither of which matters now as he was shot dead in front of your house tonight, Mr. Jeeter — shot trying to stick up your car. The cops know about that one — they came to see me about it — because the other guy, the one that packs the twenty-two, is the little dimwit’s brother and he thought I shot Dimwit and tried to put the bee on me. But it didn’t work. That’s two killings.
«We now come to the third and most important. I went back to the El Milano because it no longer seemed a good idea for Mister Gerald to be running around casually. He seemed to have a few enemies. It even seemed that he was supposed to be in the car this evening when Frisky Lavon shot at it — but of course that was just a plant.»
Old Jeeter drew his white eyebrows together in an expression of puzzlement. George didn’t look puzzled. He didn’t look anything. He was as wooden-faced as a cigar-store Indian. The girl looked a little white now, a little tense. I plowed on.
«Back at the El Milano I found that Hawkins had let Marty Estel and his bodyguard into Miss Huntress’ apartment to wait for her. Marty had something to tell her — that Arbogast had been killed. That made it a good idea for her to lay off young Jeeter for a while — until the cops quieted down anyhow. A thoughtful guy, Marty. A much more thoughtful guy than you would suppose. For instance, he knew about Arbogast and he knew Mr. Jeeter went to Anna Halsey’s office this morning and he knew somehow — Anna might have told him herself, I wouldn’t put it past her — that I was working on the case now. So he had me tailed to Arbogast’s place and away, and he found out later from his cop friends that Arbogast had been murdered, and he knew I hadn’t given it out. So he had me there and that made us pals. He went away after telling me this and once more I was left alone in Miss Huntress’ apartment. But this time for no reason at all I poked around. And I found young Mister Gerald, in the bedroom, in a closet.»
I stepped quickly over to the girl and reached into my pocket and took out the small fancy.25 automatic and laid it down on her knee.
«Ever see this before?»
Her voice had a curious tight sound, but her dark blue eyes looked at me levelly.
«Yes. It’s mine.»
«You kept it where?»
«In the drawer of a small table beside the bed.»
«Sure about that?»
She thought. Neither of the two men stirred.
George began to twitch the corner of his mouth. She shook her head suddenly, sideways.
«No. I have an idea now I took it out to show somebody — because I don’t know much about guns — and left it lying on the mantel in the living room. In fact, I’m almost sure I did. It was Gerald I showed it to.»
«So he might have reached for it there, if anybody tried to make a wrong play at him?»
She nodded, troubled. «What do you mean — he’s in the closet?» she asked in a small quick voice.
«You know. Everybody in this room knows what I mean. They know that I showed you that gun for a purpose.» I stepped away from her and faced George and his boss. «He’s dead, of course. Shot through the heart — probably with this gun. It was left there with him. That’s why it would be left.»
The old man took a step and stopped and braced himself against the table. I wasn’t sure whether he had turned white or whether he had been white already. He stared stonily at the girl. He said very slowly, between his teeth: «You damned murderess!»
«Couldn’t it have been suicide?» I sneered.
He turned his head enough to look at me. I could see that the idea interested him. He half nodded.
«No,» I said. «It couldn’t have been suicide.»
He didn’t like that so well. His face congested with blood and the veins on his nose thickened. The girl touched the gun lying on her knee, then put her hand loosely around the butt. I saw her thumb slide very gently towards the safety catch. She didn’t know much about guns, but she knew that much.
«It couldn’t be suicide,» I said again, very slowly. «As an isolated event — maybe. But not with all the other stuff that’s been happening. Arbogast, the stick-up down on Calvello Drive outside this house, the thugs planted in my apartment, the job with the twenty-two.»
I reached into my pocket again and pulled out Waxnose’s Woodsman. I held it carelessly on the flat of my left hand. «And curiously enough, I don’t think it was this twenty-two — although this happens to be the gunman’s twenty-two. Yeah, I have the gunman, too. He’s tied up in my apartment. He came back to knock me off, but I talked him out of it. I’m a swell talker.»
«Except that you overdo it,» the girl said coolly, and lifted the gun a little.
«It’s obvious who killed him, Miss Huntress,» I said. «It’s simply a matter of motive and opportunity. Marty Estel didn’t, and didn’t have it done. That would spoil his chances to get his fifty grand. Frisky Lavon’s pal didn’t, regardless of who he was working for, and I don’t think he was working for Marty Estel. He couldn’t have got into the El Milano to do the job, and certainly not into Miss Huntress’ apartment. Whoever did it had something to gain by it and an opportunity to get to the place where it was done. Well, who had something to gain? Gerald had five million coming to him in two years out of a trust fund. He couldn’t will it until he got it. So if he died, his natural heir got it. Who’s his natural heir? You’d be surprised. Did you know that in the state of California and some others, but not in all, a man can by his own act become a natural heir? Just by adopting somebody who has money and no heirs!»
George moved then. His movement was once more as smooth as a ripple of water. The Smith & Wesson gleamed dully in his hand, but he didn’t fire it. The small automatic in the girl’s hand cracked. Blood spurted from George’s brown hard hand. The Smith & Wesson dropped to the floor. He cursed. She didn’t know much about guns — not very much.
«Of couse!» she said grimly. «George could get into the apartment without any trouble, if Gerald was there. He would go in through the garage, a chauffeur in uniform, ride up in the elevator and knock at the door. And when Gerald opened it, George would back him in with that Smith & Wesson. But how did he know Gerald was there?»
I said: «He must have followed your taxi. We don’t know where he has been all evening since he left me. He had a car with him. The cops will find out. How much was in it for you, George?»
George held his right wrist with his left hand, held it tightly, and his face was twisted, savage. He said nothing.
«George would back him in with the Smith & Wesson,» the girl said wearily. «Then he would see my gun on the mantelpiece. That would be better. He would use that. He would back Gerald into the bedroom, away from the corridor, into the closet, and there, quietly, calmly, he would kill him and drop the gun on the floor.»
«George killed Arbogast, too. He killed him with a twentytwo because he knew that Frisky Lavon’s brother had a twentytwo, and he knew that because he had hired Frisky and his brother to put over a big scare on Gerald — so that when he was murdered it would look as if Marty Estel had had it done. That was why I was brought out here tonight in the Jeeter car — so that the two thugs who had been warned and planted could pull their act and maybe knock me off, if I got too tough. Only George likes to kill people. He made a neat shot at Frisky. He hit him in the face. It was so good a shot I think he meant it to be a miss. How about it, George?»
Silence.
I looked at old Jeeter at last. I had been expecting him to pull a gun himself, but he hadn’t. He just stood there, openmouthed, appalled, leaning against the black marble table, shaking.