Politely declining for both of them, Gunner said, “We’re here on rather unpleasant business, Mrs. Worth. Nick Spoda was murdered last night.”
The retirement home manager’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.
“Mr. Hawk had an appointment with him at eight-thirty. That’s when Spoda was shot.”
Mrs. Worth’s eyes widened even more. “You can’t possibly be suggesting that Mr. Hawk killed him.”
“Afraid I am. He was pretty fond of Olivia Pritchard, wasn’t he?”
“We all were.”
“He was pretty sore about Nick being turned loose.”
“We all were that, too, Sergeant. But Mr. Hawk’s a law-abiding man. He used to be a policeman, himself.”
“He mentioned that. Do you know where?”
“All over the country. He was a G-Man under the famous Melvin Purvis. Mr. Hawk helped shoot Dillinger, he was at the shootout with the Ma Barker gang, and he once put a bullet in Pretty Boy Floyd.”
Mark Fallon said, “There you are, Sergeant. Those FBI men in the 1930s were nothing but legal killers. Old J. Edgar Hoover didn’t believe in arresting bank robbers. His order was to shoot hell out of them.”
“That was fifty years ago,” Gunner said.
“Once a killer, always a killer, Sergeant. The old coot was trained to shoot suspects on sight, and obviously that’s still his philosophy.”
Gunner asked Mrs. Worth where Gerard Hawk was.
“In Anna Stenger’s room, I imagine. Usually they play bridge there mornings. Three-handed, now that Olivia’s gone.”
She led them into the hall and across it to the nearest door. When she knocked, Anna Stenger’s voice called an invitation to come in.
Anna, Hester Lloyd, and Gerard Hawk sat at a card table in the center of the room. It was a large room, airy and well-lighted by French doors on two sides which led to the front and side lawns. The lawn was not more than six inches below the doorsills, Gunner noted, making it convenient for the old people to step outdoors without having to bother going through the building to the front door.
The three card players greeted the sergeant without any evidence of surprise, ignoring Mark Fallon.
Gunner got right to the point. “Mr. Hawk, Nick Spoda was shot to death last night.”
Riffling the cards, the old man began to deal. “Young fellow who shot Olivia, you mean?”
Mark Fallon said, “He didn’t shoot anyone.”
Anna Stenger said, “You put down my last score, Hester?”
“Of course,” the plump woman said. “You made two spades.” She turned a score pad for Hester to see.
Gunner said, “Mr. Hawk, I’m afraid I have to arrest you on suspicion of murder. You have the right to remain silent, and if you do make a statement, it may be taken down and be used as evidence against you. You also have the right to legal counsel, and if you can’t afford a lawyer, one may be assigned to you at public expense.”
“Don’t think I need one,” the old man said. He glanced up at Fallon. “Nice that you’re handy, in case I do.”
The lawyer looked offended. “I advise you to hire other counsel.”
Gerard Hawk shrugged. “What makes you suspect me, Sergeant?”
“Mr. Fallon says you had an appointment with Spoda for eight-thirty last night, and that’s when he was shot.”
The old man looked up at Fallon again. “What gave you that idea?”
“I talked to Nick on the phone right after you called him. He told me.”
Hawk looked down at his cards. “Hearsay. One heart.”
“One diamond,” Hester said.
“You have to say two diamonds,” Anna said.
“What do you mean, hearsay?” Fallon asked in a loud voice.
“Not admissible in court. Never phoned the man.”
“Two diamonds,” Hester said.
Gunner said, “The hotel night clerk’s testimony isn’t hearsay, Mr. Hawk. He says you stopped in about two-and-a-half hours before the shooting and asked for Spoda’s room number.”
“Oh, that. Got to thinking about that dog he said he wanted to sell to Olivia. Thought I might buy it myself, then decided not to, so I left without going up. You going to bid, Anna?”
“Pass,” Anna said.
“I’m afraid it isn’t going to be that easy,” Gunner said with regret. “You own a gun, Mr. Hawk?”
“Sure. Forty-five semiautomatic. Glad to loan it to you for ballistic tests. That’s why you asked, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked.”
“Used to own a pair of them,” Hawk said. “Accidentally dropped one in the river a while back. Two hearts.”
“Pass,” Hester said.
“Pass,” Anna said.
Mark Fallon watched irritably as the old man picked up the blind dummy and began laying out cards. “Why don’t you stop this nonsense and put cuffs on the man?” he asked Gunner.
Hester Lloyd suddenly asked, “What time was this Spoda man killed?”
“Eight-thirty last night,” Gunner said.
“Then it wasn’t Mr. Hawk did it. The three of us played cards right here from six-thirty until eleven, and he wasn’t out of our sight for a minute. Right, Anna?”
“Right, Hester.” The retired schoolteacher looked up at the sergeant. “I can swear to that in court, Sergeant. Lead, Hester.”
Sergeant Gunner looked at the expression on Mark Fallon’s face. Then he started to laugh. Once started, he couldn’t stop. He leaned against the wall and howled until tears ran down his face.
Mark Fallon began to yell something about conspiracy.
Over the hubbub, Anna Stenger’s voice rose shrilly. “Hester, you reneged. If you can’t play fair, I’m not going to play at all.”