“Don’t be absurd.” He smiled his thin white-edged smile. “You’re morally certain that’s Maude in the back room, aren’t you?”
“I’m morally certain you were lying. You were too careful not to recognize her.”
“Well.” He dusted his knee with his hands. “I suppose I had better tell you the truth, since you know it anyway. You’re perfectly right, it’s my sister. She wasn’t murdered, however.”
The sense of unreality returned to the room. I sat down on the chaise, which complained like an animal under my weight.
“It’s a tragic story,” Harlan said slowly. “I was rather hoping not to have to tell it. Maude died last night by accident. After I left the studio, she quarreled with Lister over his refusal to admit me. She became quite irrational, in fact. Lister tried to quiet her, but she got away from him and flung herself bodily down those outside steps. The fall killed her.”
“Is that Lister’s version?”
“It’s the simple truth. He came to my hotel room a short while ago, and told me what had happened. The man was in terrible earnest. I know genuine anguish when I see it, and I can tell when a man is telling the truth.”
“You’re better than I am, then. I think he’s playing you for a sucker.”
“What?”
“I caught him practically red-handed, trying to bury the body. Now he’s lying out of it the best way he can. It strikes me as very peculiar that you swallowed it.”
Harlan’s black eyes probed my face. “I assure you his story is the truth. He told me about everything, you see, including the matter of – burial. Put yourself in his place. When Maude killed herself – was killed – last night, Lister saw immediately that suspicion would fall on him, especially my suspicion. He’s had some trouble with the police, he told me. Inevitably in his panic he acted like a guilty man. He thought of this deserted place, and brought the body here to dispose of it. His action was rash and even illegal, but I think understandable under the circumstances.”
“You’re very tolerant all of a sudden. What about the five grand he’s been trying to con you for?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The check for five thousand, has it slipped your mind?”
“We’ll forget about it,” he said impassively. “It’s my affair, strictly between him and me.”
I was beginning to get hold of the situation, if not the motives behind it. Somehow or other Lister had persuaded Harlan to cover for him. I said with all the irony I could muster:
“So we’ll bury the body and forget about it.”
“Precisely my idea. Not we, however. You. I can’t afford to become involved in any illegality whatsoever.”
“What makes you think I can?”
He brought a leatherette folder out of his coat pocket and opened it to show me the travelers’ checks inside. There were ten hundreds. “One thousand dollars,” he said, “seems to me an adequate sexton’s fee. Enough to assure forgetfulness as well.”
His look was very knowing, but his passion for money was making him look idiotic. He was like a tone-deaf man who couldn’t believe that other people heard music and even liked it. But I didn’t argue. I let him sign the checks and listened to his instructions. Bury her and forget her.
“I sincerely hate to do this to Maude,” he said before he left. “It goes against my grain to leave my sister in an unmarked grave, but I have to consider the greatest good of the greatest number. It would ruin the School if this matter got into the newspapers. I can’t let mere fraternal piety interfere with the welfare of the School.”
Naturally I didn’t bury the body. I left it where it lay and followed Harlan back to Santa Monica. I caught the Studebaker before it reached the city, but I let it stay ahead of me.
He parked on Wilshire Boulevard and went into an air travel agency. Before I could find a parking space, he was out again and climbing into his car. I made a note of the agency’s name, and followed the Studebaker back to the Oceano Hotel. Harlan left it at the white curb for the garageman. There were shells in my dashboard compartment, and I reloaded my revolver.
The lobby of the hotel was deserted except for the desk clerk and a pair of old ladies playing canasta. I found a telephone booth at the rear, and called the travel agency. A carefully preserved British accent said:
“Sanders’ travel agency, Mr. Sanders speaking.”
“This is J. Reginald Harlan,” I said fussily. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“Indeed it does, Mr. Harlan. I trust your reservations are satisfactory?”
“I’m not entirely sure about that. You see, I’m eager to get there as soon as I can.”
“I absolutely assure you, Mr. Harlan, I’ve put you on the earliest available flight. Ten o’clock from International Airport.” A trace of impatience threaded through the genteel tones.
“When do I get there?”
“I thought I’d made that clear. It’s written on your envelope.”
“I seem to have misplaced the envelope.”
“You’re scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning at eight o’clock, Chicago time. All right?”
“Thank you.”
“Not at all.”
I called the hotel switchboard and asked for Harlan.
“Who is speaking, please?” the operator yodeled.
“Lister. Leonard Lister.”
“One moment, Mr. Lister, I’ll ring Mr. Harlan’s room. He’s expecting you.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll just go up. What was the number again?”
“Three-fourteen, sir.”
I took the elevator to the third floor. The elevator boy noticed my face, opened his mouth to comment, caught my eye, and shut his mouth without speaking. Harlan’s room was at the front of the hotel, in a good location. I knocked.
“Is that you, Leonard?”
“Uh-huh.”
Harlan opened the door, and I crowded through. He raised his fists together in front of his chest, like a woman. Looking at me as if he hated me, he said:
“Come in, Mr. Archer.”
“I’m in.”
“Sit down then. I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting to see you again. So soon,” he added. “There hasn’t been any trouble?”
“No trouble. Just the same routine murder.”
“But it was an accident–”
“Maybe the fall downstairs was an accident. I don’t think that fall killed her. There are thumbprints on her throat.”
“But this is all news to me. Do sit down, Mr. Archer, won’t you?”
“I’ll stand. In the second place, your sister wrote a prayer in the dust in that house. She was alive when Lister took her there. In the third place, you just bought tickets to Chicago, and you’re expecting another visit from Lister. Aren’t you getting pretty cozy with him?”
“He’s my brother-in-law, after all.” His voice was bland.
“And you’re very fond of him, eh?”
“Leonard has his points.”
He sat down in an armchair by the window. Past his narrow cormorant skull I could see the sky and the sea, wide and candid, flecked with the white purity of sails. I spent too much of my time trying to question liars in rented rooms.
“I think he’s your partner in crime. You both stand to gain by your sister’s death. From what I’ve seen of the two of you, you’re capable of murdering for gain.”
“You’ve changed your mind about Lister, eh?”
“Not as much as you have.”
Harlan made his hands flop in the air. “My dear good fellow, you couldn’t possibly be further wrong. Even apart from the money I’ve paid you, I do earnestly hope for your sake that you won’t act on your ridiculous theory. In the first place,” he mimicked me, “if I were in league with Lister, I wouldn’t have sought your help yesterday, would I?”