“Yes, I see that,” I said. “If his appointment is around five o’clock and it takes him four hours to walk the distance, he’d have to start around one.”
He nodded, silent and thoughtful. For some queer reason I could not explain, I did not feel like interrupting his thoughts. On the wall was a large map of the county and I walked over to it and began to study it. “You’re right, Nicky,” I remarked over my shoulder, “there’s no place as far as nine miles away from Fairfield that doesn’t hit another town first. Fairfield is right in the middle of a bunch of smaller towns.”
He joined me at the map. “It doesn’t have to be Fairfield, you know,” he said quietly. “It was probably one of the outlying towns he had to reach. Try Hadley.”
“Why Hadley? What would anyone want in Hadley at five o’clock in the morning?”
“The Washington Flyer stops there to take on water about that time,” he said quietly.
“That’s right, too,” I said. “I’ve heard that train many a night when I couldn’t sleep. I’d hear it pulling in and then a minute or two later I’d hear the clock on the Methodist church banging out five.” I went back to my desk for a timetable. “The Flyer leaves Washington at twelve forty-seven A.M. and gets into Boston at eight A.M.”
Nicky was still at the map measuring distances with a pencil. “Exactly nine miles from Hadley is the Old Sumter Inn,” he announced.
“Old Sumter Inn,” I echoed. “But that upsets the whole theory. You can arrange for transportation there as easily as you can in a town.”
He shook his head. “The cars are kept in an enclosure and you have to get an attendant to check you through the gate. The attendant would remember anyone taking out his car at a strange hour. It’s a pretty conservative place. He could have waited in his room until he got a call from Washington about someone on the Flyer — maybe the number of the car and the berth. Then he could just slip out of the hotel and walk to Hadley.”
I stared at him, hypnotized.
“It wouldn’t be difficult to slip aboard while the train was taking on water, and then if he knew the car number and the berth —”
“Nicky,” I said portentously, “as the reform district attorney who campaigned on an economy program, I am going to waste the taxpayers’ money and call Boston long distance. It’s ridiculous; it’s insane — but I’m going to do it!”
His little blue eyes glittered and he moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Go ahead,” he said hoarsely.
I replaced the telephone in its cradle. “Nicky,” I said, “this is probably the most remarkable coincidence in the history of criminal investigation: A man was found murdered in his berth on last night’s twelve forty-seven from Washington! He’d been dead about three hours, which would make it exactly right for Hadley.”
“I thought it was something like that,” said Nicky. “But you’re wrong about its being a coincidence. It can’t be. Where did you get that sentence?”
“It was just a sentence. It simply popped into my head.”
“It couldn’t have! It’s not the sort of sentence that pops into one’s head. If you had taught composition as long as I have, you’d know that when you ask someone for a sentence of ten words or so, you get an ordinary statement such as ‘I like milk’ — with the other words made up by a modifying clause like, ‘because it is good for my health.’ The sentence you offered related to a particular situation.”
“But I tell you I talked to no one this morning. And I was alone with you at the Blue Moon.”
“You weren’t with me all the time I paid my check,” he said sharply. “Did you meet anyone while you were waiting on the sidewalk for me to come out of the Blue Moon?”
I shook my head. “I was outside for less than a minute before you joined me. You see, a couple of men came in while you were digging out your change and one of them bumped me, as I thought I’d wait —”
“Did you ever see them before?”
“Who?”
“The two men who came in,” he said, the note of exasperation creeping into his voice again.
“Why, no — they weren’t anyone I knew.”
“Were they talking?”
“I guess so. Yes, they were. Quite absorbed in their conversation, as a matter of fact — otherwise they would have noticed me and I would not have been bumped.”
“Not many strangers come into the Blue Moon,” he remarked.
“Do you think it was they?” I asked eagerly. “I think I’d know them again if I saw them.”
Nicky’s eyes narrowed. “It’s possible. There had to be two — one to trail the victim in Washington and ascertain his berth number, the other to wait here and do the job. The Washington man would be likely to come down here afterward. If there were theft as well as murder, it would be to divide the spoils. If it were just murder, he would probably have to come down to pay off his confederate.”
I reached for the telephone. “We’ve been gone less than half an hour,” Nicky went on. “They were just coming in, and service is slow at the Blue Moon. The one who walked all the way to Hadley must certainly be hungry and the other probably drove all night from Washington.”
“Call me immediately if you make an arrest,” I said into the phone and hung up.
Neither of us spoke a word while we waited. We paced the floor, avoiding each other almost as though we had done something we were ashamed of.
The telephone rang at last. I picked it up and listened. Then I said, “Okay,” and turned to Nicky. “One of them tried to escape through the kitchen, but Winn had someone stationed at the back and they got him.”
“That would seem to prove it,” said Nicky With a frosty little smile.
I nodded agreement.
He glanced at his watch. “Gracious,” he exclaimed, “I wanted to make an early start on my work this morning, and here I’ve already wasted all this time talking with you!”
I let him get to the door. “Oh, Nicky,” I called, “what was it you set out to prove?”
“That a chain of inferences could be logical and still not be true,” he said.
“Oh.”
“What are you laughing at?” he asked snappishly, and then he laughed, too.