“that’sallright,”isaid.“forgetit.icangettoseeherwithoutanytrouble.ijustthoughti’dliketohavesomebodyalongwithmeasawitness.”

“witnesstowhat?”healmostsnappedatme.

“you’llhearitinfrontofheroryouwon’thearitatall.”

“theniwon’thearitatall.”

istoodup.“you’reprobablydoingtherightthing,spencer.youwantthatbookofwade’s—ifitcanbeused.andyouwanttobeaniceguy.bothlaudableambitions.idon’tshareeitherofthem.thebestoflucktoyouandgoodbye.”

hestoodupsuddenlyandstartedtowardsme.“nowjustaminute,marlowe.idon’tknowwhat’sonyourmindbutyouseemtotakeithard.istheresomemysteryaboutrogerwade’sdeath?”

“nomysteryatall.hewasshotthroughtheheadwithawebleyhammerlessrevolver.didn’tyouseeareportoftheinquest?”

“certainly.”hewasstandingclosetomenowandhelookedbothered.“thatwasintheeasternpapersandacoupleofdayslateramuchfulleraccountinthelosangelespapers.hewasaloneinthehouse,althoughyouwerenotfaraway.theservantswereaway,candyandthecook,andeileenhadbeenuptownshoppingandarrivedhomejustafterithappened.atthemomentithappenedaverynoisymotorboatonthelakedrownedthesoundoftheshot,sothatevenyoudidn’thearit.”

“that’scorrect,”isaid.“thenthemotorboatwentaway,andiwalkedbackfromthelakeedgeandintothehouse,heardthedoorbellringing,andopenedittofindeileenwadehadforgottenherkeys.rogerwasalreadydead.shelookedintothestudyfromthedoorway,thoughthewasasleeponthecouch,wentuptoherroom,thenouttothekitchentomakesometea.alittlelaterthanshedidialsolookedintothestudy,noticedtherewasnosoundofbreathing,andfoundoutwhy.induecourseicalledthelaw.”

“iseenomystery,”spencersaidquietly,allthesharpnessgonefromhisvoice.“itwasroger’sowngun,andonlytheweekbeforehehadshotitoffinhisownroom.youfoundeileenstrugglingtogetitawayfromhim.hisstateofmind,hisbehavior,hisdepressionsoverhiswork—allthatwasbroughtout.”

“shetoldyouthestuffisgood.whyshouldhebedepressedoverit?”

“that’sjustheropinion,youknow.itmaybeverybad.orhemayhavethoughtitworsethanitwas.goon.i’mnotafool.icanseethereismore.”

“thehomicidedickwhoinvestigatedthecaseisanoldfriendofmine.he’sabulldogandabloodhoundandanoldwisecop.hedoesn’tlikeafewthings.whydidrogerleavenonote—whenhewasawritingfool?whydidheshoothimselfinsuchawayastoleavetheshockofdiscoverytohiswife?whydidhebothertopickthemomentwhenicouldn’thearthegungooff?whydidsheforgetherhousekeyssothatshehadtobeletintothehouse?whydidsheleavehimaloneonthedaythehelpgotoff?remember,shesaidshedidn’tknowiwouldbethere.ifshedid,thosetwocancelout.”

“mygod,”spencerbleated,“areyoutellingmethedamnfoolcopsuspectseileen?”

“hewouldifhecouldthinkofamotive.”

“that’sridiculous.whynotsuspectyou?youhadallafternoon.therecouldhavebeenonlyafewminuteswhenshecouldhavedoneit—andshehadforgottenherhousekeys.”

“whatmotivecouldihave?”

hereachedbackandgrabbedmywhiskeysourandswalloweditwhole.heputtheglassdowncarefullyandgotahandkerchiefoutandwipedhislipsandhisfingerswherethechilledglasshadmoistenedthem.heputthehandkerchiefaway.hestaredatme.

“istheinvestigationstillgoingon?”

“couldn’tsay.onethingissure.theyknowbynowwhetherhehaddrunkenoughhoochtopasshimout.ifhehad,theremaystillbetrouble.”

“andyouwanttotalktoher,”hesaidslowly,“inthepresenceofawitness.”

“that’sright.”

“thatmeansonlyoneoftwothingstome,marlowe.eitheryouarebadlyscaredoryouthinksheoughttobe.”

inodded.

“whichone?”heaskedgrimly.

“i’mnotscared.”

helookedathiswatch.“ihopetogodyou’recrazy.”

welookedateachotherinsilence.