“Have you got any money at all?”
“Some in the bank. I ain’t got no cash.”
“Matilda Shore will be ringing up any minute now,” Mason reminded him. “Are you going to tell her Franklin Shore was here and you let him get away?”
“Good gosh, no!”
“What are you going to tell her?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about the flowers? How are you going to explain sending her a bunch of hothouse roses with instructions to deliver them immediately — at around three o’clock in the morning?”
Lunk made a frowning effort at thought, then surrendered to say doggedly, “I don’t know what I’m going to tell her — not now.”
“Why tell her anything? Why not simply skip out?”
Lunk said, with feeling, “Gee, I’d like to do that, if I could get away with it?”
“Well, why not? I could take you to a hotel, let you register under an assumed name, and then you could get in touch with Mrs. Shore whenever you wanted to, and make whatever explanations you wanted. In that way, you wouldn’t have to tell anyone anything. You could keep in touch with me.”
Lunk was nodding slowly. “I could stick some stuff in a bag,” he said, “and maybe get a check cashed...”
Mason peeled off a couple of ten-dollar bills from a thick roll.
“You don’t need to cash a check,” he said. “I’ll give you some money, and when you need more, you can telephone me. I’ve given you a number where you can always reach me.”
Lunk suddenly gripped strong fingers around the lawyer’s hand. “You’re acting mighty square,” he said, and, after a moment, added, “You stick by me in this, and I’ll stick by you. And maybe later on, I’ll tell you just what Franklin Shore really wanted. You let me think it over, and I’ll give you a ring later on.”
“Why can’t you tell me now?”
The old sullen look came over Lunk’s face. “Not now,” he said. “I gotta be sure of somethin’ first, but I may tell you later on — maybe around noon. Don’t try to get it out of me now. I’m waiting for somethin’ before I can tell you.”
Mason studied his man. “Is that something,” he asked, “the morning newspaper with the account of Leech’s death?”
Lunk shook his head.
“Or the police report on Matilda Shore’s poisoning?”
“Don’t crowd me. I’m tellin’ you straight,” Lunk warned.
Mason laughed. “All right, come on, I’ll put you in a nice, quiet hotel. Suppose you register as Thomas Trimmer? And I’ll take the kitten along with me and see it’s taken care of.”
Lunk regarded the kitten somewhat wistfully. “You take good care of it.”
“I will,” Mason promised.
Chapter 16
Helen Kendal sat dry-eyed in the waiting room at the hospital. It seemed she had been there for endless hours, so nervous she couldn’t sit still, so physically weary that she couldn’t summon the energy to get up and pace the floor. A hundred times in the last hour she had looked at her wrist watch. She knew now that it simply couldn’t be much longer.
She heard the sound of quick, nervous steps in the corridor. Her tortured mind wondered if that might be someone coming to take her to the bedside of a dying man. Her heart choked up her throat with the thought that if it was only to tell her everything was all right, the messenger would be walking more slowly. These staccato footsteps could only indicate one thing, that they were coming for her and that seconds were precious.
White-lipped she came up out of the creaking rattan chair, started running toward the door of the reception room.
The steps turned into the door. A long, overcoated figure smiled reassuringly at her. “Hello, Miss Kendal. I guess you remember me.”
Her eyes widened. “Why, Lieutenant Tragg! Tell me, have you heard... anything...”
Tragg shook his head. “They’re operating on him. They had some delay getting donors for blood transfusions. They should be finished about now,” Tragg said. “I’ve been talking on the telephone with the nurse.”
“Oh, tell me, how’s he standing it? How’s he coming? Is it going to be...”
Tragg placed a hand on her quivering shoulder. “Take it easy,” he said. “Take it easy. Things are going to be all right.”
“They... they aren’t sending for you because it’s the last chance he’ll have to tell...”
“Now listen,” Tragg said, “take this thing like a soldier. You’ve been through so much tonight you’re all unstrung. They’re operating on him, and the last I heard was that he’s taking it all right. I’m here right now to get just one thing.”
“What?”
“That bullet — and a statement from him if he’s able to talk.”
“Not what they call a dying declaration?”
Tragg grinned. “You’ve been here all alone fighting your nerves, and you’re jumpy.”
She said, “I can take it! I want to know how he is — that’s natural. And I’d be lying to you if I tried to tell you I wasn’t frightened. But I’m not getting any heebie jeebies over it. I guess we used to think we were entitled to happiness as a matter of right. Now, people are dying all over the world and... well, I’ve got to learn how to take it — and so has everyone else.”
Tragg’s eyes were sympathetic. “You haven’t been crying?”
“No — and don’t you make me — either. Don’t sympathize with me, and don’t look at me like that. But, for heaven’s sake, if you can really find out how he’s coming and what his chances are, go to it.”
“You engaged?” Tragg asked abruptly.
Helen’s eyes dropped and she flushed. “I... I... honestly don’t know. He never — quite — asked me, but on the way over here in the taxi— Well, I guess I let him see how much I cared. I didn’t mean to, but I was so frightened that everything broke down. He was so game — and brave — I shouldn’t have, of course.”
“Shouldn’t have what? You love him, don’t you?”
Helen raised her head and looked at him defiantly. “Yes, I love him. And I told him so. I belong to him, and always shall, no matter what happens. I told him that, too, Lieutenant Tragg. And I told him I wanted to marry him now.”
“What did he say to that?”
Helen turned away. “He didn’t say anything,” she replied dully. “He fainted.”
Tragg controlled his twitching mouth. “Jerry lost a lot of blood, you know. I’m not surprised. Tell me, Miss Kendal, how long had you been home last night before Jerry arrived?”
“I don’t know. Not very long.”
“How did he happen to call — so late?”
Helen laughed nervously. “He said he tried to telephone me earlier, but of course I was out. He was passing and saw the house all lit up, so he just dropped in for a minute. We were talking, and then we heard this sound from Aunt Matilda’s bedroom...”
“You said the noise sounded as though someone had knocked something over. The room was dark?”
“Yes.”
“You’re certain about that?”
“Yes. Unless whoever was in there had a flashlight. That may have been it, because the lovebirds started chirping.”
“But there was no sign of a flashlight when you opened the door?”
“No.”
“And the lights were on in the hall?”
“Yes. I never thought about not putting them on. I guess it would have been better if we’d kept the hallway dark and turned on the lights in the bedroom.”
“It would,” Tragg said, “but that’s all done now. No use bothering about it. What I’m getting at is that the lights were on in the hall and there were no lights on in your aunt’s bedroom.”