“I know that’s no excuse for me,” she added stonily. “A wicked thought is a wicked act, and it leads to wicked acts. I heard her sneak out a few minutes later, when I was making her coffee in the kitchen. I heard the car drive up and I heard it drive away. I didn’t lift a finger to stop her. I just let her go, and sat there drinking coffee with the evil wish in my heart.”
“Who was driving the car?”
“Sam Yogan. I didn’t see him go but he was back in less than an hour. He said he dropped her off at the wharf, which was where she wanted to go. Even then, I didn’t phone the police.”
“Did Yogan often drive her into town?”
“She didn’t go very often, but Sam did a lot of her driving for her. He’s a good driver, and she liked him. He was about the only man she ever liked. Anyway, he was the only one available that night.”
“Where were the rest of the family?”
“Away. The Senator and Jerry had gone to Berkeley, to try and find out where Carl was. Zinnie was staying with some friends in town here. Martha was only a few months old at the time.”
“Where was Carl?”
“Nobody knew. He kind of disappeared for a while. It turned out afterwards he was in the desert all the time, over in Death Valley. At least that was his story.”
“He could have been here in town?”
“He could have been, for all I know. He didn’t report in to me, or anybody else for that matter. Carl didn’t show up until after they found his mother in the sea.”
“When did they find her?”
“Next day.”
“Did Grantland come to see you before they found her?”
“Long before. He got to the ranch around midnight. I was still awake, I couldn’t sleep.”
“And Mrs. Hallman had left the house around dinner time?”
“Yes, around seven o’clock. She always ate at seven. That night she didn’t eat, though.”
“Had Grantland seen her between dinner time and midnight?”
“Not that I know of. I took it for granted he was looking for her. I never thought to ask him. I was so full of myself, and the guilt I felt. I just spilled out everything about her and the gun and me letting her go without a by-your-leave, and my wicked thoughts. Dr. Grantland said I was over exhausted, and blaming myself too much. She’d probably turn up all right. But if she didn’t I was to say that I didn’t know anything about any gun. That she just slipped out on me, and I took it for granted she went to town for something, maybe to see her grandchild, I didn’t know what. I wasn’t to mention him coming out here either. That way, they’d be more likely to believe me. Anyway, I did what Dr. Grantland said. He was a doctor. I’m only a special nurse. I don’t pretend to be smart.”
She let her face fall into slack and stupid folds, as if to relieve herself of responsibility. I couldn’t blame her too much. She was an old woman, worn out by her ordeal of conscience, and it was getting late.
29
ROSE PARISH came quietly into the room. She looked radiant and slightly disorganized.
“I finally got her to sleep. Goodness, it’s past eleven. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long.”
“It’s all right. You didn’t keep me waiting.”
I spent most of my working time waiting, talking and waiting. Talking to ordinary people in ordinary neighborhoods about ordinary things, waiting for truth to come up to the surface. I’d caught a glimpse of it just now, and it must have showed in my eyes.
Rose glanced from me to Mrs. Hutchinson. “Has something happened?”
“I talked his arm off, that’s what happened.” The old woman’s face had resumed its peculiar closed look. “Thank you for helping out with the child. You ought to have some of your own to look after.”
Rose flushed with pleasure, then shook her head quite sharply, as if to punish herself for the happy thought. “I’d settle for Martha any day. She’s a little angel.”
“Sometimes,” Mrs. Hutchinson said.
A rattle in the street drew my attention back to the window. An old gray pickup had come off the highway. It slowed down as it passed the house, and stopped abreast of the station wagon. A slight, wiry figure got out of the truck on the right-hand side and walked around the back of it to the wagon. I recognized Sam Yogan by his quick unhurried movements.
The truck was rattling away on Elmwood by the time I reached the wagon. Yogan was behind the wheel, trying to start it. It wouldn’t start for him.
“Where are you going, Sam?”
He looked up and smiled when he saw me. “Back to the ranch. Hello.”
He turned the motor over again, but it refused to catch. It sounded as though it was out of gas.
“Leave it, Sam. Get out and leave it.”
His smile widened and became resistant. “No, sir. Mrs. Hallman says take it back to the ranch.”
“Did she tell you herself?”
“No, sir. Garageman phoned Juan, Juan told me.”
“Garageman?”
“Yessir. He said Mrs. Hallman said to pick up the car on Chestnut Street.”
“How long ago did he call?”
“Not so long. Garageman says hurry up. Juan brought me in right away.”
He tried the motor again, without success. I reached across him and removed the ignition key.
“You might as well get out, Sam. The fuel line’s probably cut.”
He got out and started for the front of the hood. “I fix it, eh?”
“No. Come here.”
I opened the back door and showed him Zinnie Hallman. I watched his face. There was nothing there but an imperturbable sorrow. If he had guilty knowledge, it was hidden beyond my reach. I didn’t believe he had.
“Do you know who killed her?”
His black eyes looked up from under his corrugated forehead. “No, sir.”
“It looks like whoever did it tried to blame it on you. Doesn’t that make you mad?”
“No, sir.”
“Don’t you have any idea who it was?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you remember the night old Mrs. Hallman died?”
He nodded.
“You let her off on the wharf, I believe.”
“The street in front of the wharf.”
“What was she doing there?”
“Said she had to meet somebody.”
“Did she say who?”
“No, sir. She told me go away, don’t wait. She didn’t want me to see, maybe.”
“Did she have her gun?”
“I dunno.”
“Did she mention Dr. Grantland?”
“I don’t think.”
“Did Dr. Grantland ever ask you about that night?”
“No, sir.”
“Or give you a story to tell?”
“No, sir.” He gestured awkwardly toward the body. “We ought to tell the police.”
“You’re right. You go and tell them, Sam.”
He nodded solemnly. I handed him the key to the wagon and showed him where to find the sergeant’s party. As I was starting my own car, Rose came out of the house and got in beside me. I turned onto Elmwood, bumped over the bridge, and accelerated. The arching trees passed over us with a whoosh, like giant dark birds.
“You’re in an awful hurry,” she said. “Or do you always drive like this?”
“Only when I’m frustrated.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. Did I do something to make you angry?”
“No.”
“Something has happened, hasn’t it?”
“Something is going to. Where do you want to be dropped off?”