“Yes?” Gramps asked encouragingly.
“Well, in a way,” Harvey said, “I was... it was partially—”
He walked abruptly over to the door of the private office and knocked.
It was almost thirty seconds before Duryea opened the door. He was scowling, and the glance he flashed at Gramps indicated he thought Gramps had been the one who knocked. Then he saw Stanwood standing by the door and said: “Yes, what is it?”
Stanwood said: “One thing I didn’t get straight, Mr. Duryea, and I thought I’d better explain.”
Duryea continued to hold the door open. “What is it?”
“When you asked me about Karper, there was one thing I forgot, and... and another thing which I deliberately suppressed.”
“Why?” Duryea asked, snapping the question at him with the explosive force of a rifle shot.
“Well,” Stanwood said, “my position in the matter is not entirely clear. I’m still in the employ of the Pressman interests, and there are some matters of business which simply can’t come out at the present time.”
Duryea said: “If you impede the investigation in this case, or make any false statements because of business matters, you’ll be apt to find yourself in a very unenviable position.”
“I realize that,” Stanwood admitted. “It’s thinking that over which makes me want to correct my statement.”
“All right, what’s the correction?”
“You asked me if I had seen Karper lately, and I told you I hadn’t. As a matter of fact, I did have a brief discussion with Mr. Karper about some business matters.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“What were the matters?”
“Well... I don’t think I’m really free to go into those. They’re highly confidential, and I don’t see how they make any difference whatever in clarifying the situation you’re investigating.”
“Anything that would have given Karper a motive for murdering Pressman?”
“Good heavens, no! Mr. Karper is hardly the sort of man one would associate with murder, regardless of the motive.”
“I’m afraid,” Duryea said, “you’ll have to leave that to me. What I’m interested in learning from you is the general background, the interests of the various people, and the possibility of motivation... What did you and Karper talk about?”
“Generally, it was some highly confidential business transactions he’d had with Pressman.”
“What was their nature?”
“Ostensibly,” Stanwood said, “Karper and Pressman were at loggerheads. As a matter of fact their relationship wasn’t — well, it wasn’t exactly what it appeared on the surface.”
“You mean Karper was working for Pressman?”
“No, not exactly that, but there were certain things they were doing together, certain interests they had in common.”
“Did Mrs. Pressman know about that?”
“No. I don’t think Mr. Pressman confided in his wife — particularly of late. No one knew about it, except Karper and myself.”
“And Mr. Pressman, of course?”
“Oh, yes, naturally.”
“Tell me more about what they had in common,” the district attorney commanded.
“Pressman had let Karper in on a quarter of those oil rights. No one knew anything about it. Ostensibly Karper hated Pressman. In reality, they were partners to the extent of a quarter interest in this oil business.”
Duryea thought that over. Abruptly, he said, raising his voice so Eva Raymond could hear every word: “All right, Stanwood, I’m going to be frank with you. There’s evidence indicating you may have been short in your accounts. There’s also evidence indicating Mr. Pressman may have found out about that shortage, and may have been preparing to do something about it unless you made restitution. What have you to say to that?”
Stanwood became properly indignant. “Mr. Duryea! Are you accusing me of embezzling money?”
“Not yet,” Duryea said patiently. “I’m asking questions. But make no mistake about it. The accusation may come later — unless those questions are satisfactorily answered.”
Eva Raymond’s voice came from the inner office. “Well, I can tell you the answer to that, Mr. Duryea. Every penny that you think was short was deposited—”
“Wait a minute, Eva,” Harvey interrupted, moving forward to stand in the door. “Let me answer this question. I’m afraid there are some things which even you don’t know.”
“Go ahead and answer it,” Duryea said.
Stanwood said: “Because the transactions between Mr. Karper and Mr. Pressman were so highly confidential, the financial matters were handled in an irregular manner. Such expenditures as Mr. Pressman made on behalf of the joint venture were taken out of the business without any form of voucher or any record whatever. The funds were simply lifted bodily out of Pressman’s business.”
“And then?” Duryea asked.
“And then,” Stanwood said, “when the amounts became large enough, I would get in touch with Mr. Karper, tell him how much we had expended, how much his contribution was to be, and Mr. Karper would give me that amount in cash. I’d take it and deposit it, in such a way that there would be no real record of that transaction as a deposit... In other words it would simply balance the money which had been lifted from the business without vouchers.”
“A highly irregular procedure,” Duryea said.
“It was necessary in order to preserve absolute secrecy.”
“And your conversation with Karper had to do with getting the books balanced?”
“No,” Stanwood said, “it didn’t. As a matter of fact, it happened that I had taken up the matter of Karper’s balance with him the day Mr. Pressman died. Although, of course, neither of us knew of his death at that time. In fact, as I understand the matter, our adjustment was made several hours before Pressman’s death.”
“And what happened?”
“Mr. Karper gave me quite a large amount of cash. I used that cash to balance the shortages which had been incurred because of joint expenditures.
“The way Mr. Pressman insisted upon this business being handled would have made it appear I was short — during the intervals between the expenditures and the receipt of Karper’s remittances — although that hadn’t ever occurred to me until just now. You see, since Mr. Pressman knew all about it, and wanted it handled that way — but in the event of his death — well, I can see how you were misled, Mr. Duryea.”
“Can you make me a list of those joint interests?” Duryea asked.
“I could,” Stanwood said with proper hesitancy, “but I don’t see any reason for doing so.”
“I want to have them.”
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Duryea. I’d have to have a written authorization from both Mrs. Pressman and Mr. Karper before I could do that. You’ll appreciate my position. I’m a subordinate, an employee. I have no right whatever to take the responsibility of making decisions.”
“And I think you understand my position,” Duryea said. “I’m a district attorney investigating a murder, and I’m not going to be stalled off.”
“Yes, I can appreciate your position.”
Duryea said: “Very well then, get busy and make out a list of those expenditures. If you need permission from Mrs. Pressman and Mr. Karper, get that permission, but get me the list.”
Stanwood said: “Very well, Mr. Duryea,” and then to Eva, “I don’t think I’ll wait for you, Eva. I’ve been on the go all day, and I’m about dead.”
“You’d better wait,” Eva called. “I won’t be very long. Will I, Mr. Duryea?”
“I don’t know,” Duryea said. “It depends on how truthful you are,” and closed the door.
Chapter 22