11
John Hayden stood in the partly open door until the taillights on Denham’s car vanished down the road, and when he came back to the living room Marion was still standing. He could see that reaction had begun to relieve the tension which had been with her for so long, and this, he told himself, was a good sign. There was a little color in her cheeks now, and when she repeated the question she had asked Denham, her voice no longer sounded so disconsolate.
“Well,” she said, “at least they’ve gone. But what do we do now?”
“Get a drink.”
“All right. I’ll get the ice.”
He slid his arm around her waist as they went into the kitchen. He stopped her for a moment before she turned toward the refrigerator. He said he was proud of her.
“You were wonderful.”
“Was I, John?” She glanced up at him, the hazel eyes softly shining. “I tried awfully hard. But so were you, the way you talked to that State’s Attorney. He didn’t like it though, did he?... I think I’ll have a Scotch and soda.”
He made the drinks and they sat down in the kitchen alcove. When he had a cigarette going he took out the photograph of Ted Corbin, his mind busy now with an idea that until then had been nothing more than a vague and nebulous possibility. His frown deepened as the seconds passed, and presently she covered his hand with hers to claim his attention.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Him.” He touched the picture.
“What about him?”
“I’m going to look for him.”
“For Ted? Where?”
“In Mobile. That’s where Adler made his headquarters. I think it’s the best place to start.”
He could tell that she thought the suggestion was farfetched. A frown made little bunches in the smooth brow and her eyes were puzzled as they inspected him. But she did not belittle the thought and her reply was rational and intelligent.
“How big is Mobile?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been there. As a guess I’d say a couple hundred thousand.”
“And won’t the Mobile police be looking for Ted?”
“I should think so.”
“And the insurance people?”
“Sure.”
“Then what makes you think you could find him, even assuming that he’s there, before they do?”
“Maybe I can’t but I think it’s worth a try. See that?” He pointed at the photograph and her eyes followed his finger as he indicated the insignia on the coveralls Ted Corbin wore. “See that insignia? Suppose I can get this picture blown up—”
“Blown up?”
“I can get it copied. I can have an enlargement made from the new negative. I think there’s a good chance that we may be able to read the words on that insignia.”
“Oh—”
“It’s possible, isn’t it? If this picture was taken fairly recently, and according to Adler it was, Corbin must be working in some filling station. If he’s in that area, I’ve got an idea I can locate it. If I can do that, I can find him.”
She did not ask him how but the frown was still there and her eyes were thoughtful now. “And what would you do if you did find him, John?”
“Do? I’d try and talk him into coming back with me.”
“Why should he?”
“I don’t see that he has much choice. If he doesn’t want to do it that way, all I have to do is pick up the telephone and call the Mobile police.”
She was still watching him intently but concern had now replaced the thoughtfulness in her eyes and this was reflected in the cadence of her voice.
“You mean you’d go now?”
“Tonight, if I can get out.”
“But—what about the police? I mean the State’s Attorney and those two detectives? They’ll think you’ve run away. Won’t that make it look as if you were guilty?”
“Of stabbing Adler?”
“Well—yes.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but I intend to leave word where I’ve gone and why—after I’ve gone.... Come on, drink up.”
She obeyed him and then, digressing, said: “I haven’t done anything about dinner.”
“We’ll eat out. I’ll find a place where we’re not known. All you have to do is put on a coat and you’ll be ready. I’ll call Johnson and see—”
“Who’s Johnson?”
“A photographer. He does most of our work down at the plant—you know, for advertising folders. He’s got a studio in South Norwalk, and if I can reach him I think he’ll make a copy of this print and then make the sort of enlargement I want. If I’m right and that picture can be blown up so that we can read what’s on that insignia I’m going to Mobile.
“But first I’m going into the study and get that portable typewriter of mine and write a note to State’s Attorney Erickson with a carbon to Roger Denham. I’ll simply tell them that I’m not running away. I’ll point out that I have an idea I can locate Corbin, that whether I do or whether I don’t, I’ll be back in a couple of days. Let them think what they want. I can mail those letters special delivery. I can drive to New York, leave the car in a garage, and get a taxi to the airport and—”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I don’t mean to Mobile. But why can’t I drive you into town?”
“No.”
“But I want to. Please, John. It will be much simpler that way and then you won’t have to worry about the car.... You go ahead,” she added quickly as though to forestall further argument. “You call your man Johnson and I’ll get your typewriter ready and some paper and carbon.”
Hayden had no trouble getting Johnson to take the after-hours assignment. He had a small studio in back of his house and Marion waited in the station wagon while the work was being done. It did not take long because Johnson made his enlargement from the wet negative on which he had copied the original snapshot. Hayden left this negative with the photographer, and when he came back to the car he had the original print and a second one that had been cropped to show only the upper part of Corbin’s coveralls. The insignia which had been sewn there was fuzzy but readable and showed a star with the word Quinn above it and Cannon below.
They stopped in town to mail the two letters Hayden had written and they had dinner at a small restaurant not far from the parkway. While Marion was having her coffee Hayden stepped into the phone booth and called the New York Airlines Terminal to find out what he could about flights to Mobile. When he came back to the table he said that there were two which would do.
“Both are out of Newark. One is at one-thirty—”
“In the morning? What time would you get there?”
“Around five-thirty.”
“What about the other one?”
“I’d have to stay in New York overnight. It leaves at nine-thirty in the morning, but it’s a jet with only one stop and puts me into Mobile a little after one in the afternoon.”
“Take that one,” Marion said with no hesitation. “The other way you sit up all night without any sleep and then when you get there you have to wait around until the middle of the morning before you can expect to find out anything.”
What she said made sense. He might waste a couple of hours that way, but he would be rested when he got to Mobile and ready to start looking for a service station that apparently was run by people named Quinn and Cannon. He said he had reservations on both flights and would confirm the morning flight when he got to New York, but as they got into the car he voiced his doubts about her determination to accompany him to the city.
“You really shouldn’t come at all,” he said.
“I’d like to know why not.”
“Furthermore,” he added, “I’m running out on you when things are toughest. That State’s Attorney is bound to question you tomorrow and you’ll have to take it alone.”
“What makes you think I can’t?” She pushed her chin out at him a fraction of an inch and her mouth was determined. “And anyway I won’t be alone. Roger will be there. All I have to do is repeat what I’ve already told those detectives.”
“And what about me?”
“I’ll say you packed a bag and made me drive you to the railroad station. I’ll say you said you’d be gone a couple of days and told me not to worry. You refused to tell me where you were going; you simply left. How can anyone prove otherwise?”
Her reply reassured him and helped to bolster his own determination to follow this one lead he had in the hope that it would take him to Ted Corbin. He knew how his disappearance would look; he had to admit his trip might be both ill-timed and futile. Even so it seemed worth the risk, and her spirit and co-operation reminded him again of how much he loved her.
“Okay,” he said. “Just stick to that.”
“I intend to.... Where will you stay tonight?”
He said he would pick some hotel not too far from the West Side Terminal and she accepted this as they came up on the parkway and headed toward the city. For a few minutes then nothing more was said and he gave his attention to his driving. This soon became automatic, and with his mind free to think again, he reluctantly examined a thought that had lodged there the night before and continued to fester ever since. He was not sure this was the time to bring the thought out into the open. He was worried about how she might take it, but he knew he would worry even more if he left without knowing the truth. He reached out with his right hand until he found her knee. He squeezed it gently and she put her hand on top of his. He took a deep breath and decided he was as ready as he ever would be.
“I have to ask you something before you drop me off,” he said. “I don’t want to but I haven’t any choice, baby. Where did you go last night after I went to see Roger?”
The silence that followed alarmed him. At first he wondered if she had heard him and then, when she removed her hand from the back of his own, he knew she had. She moved her knee and he put his hand back on the steering wheel. When she finally spoke her voice was small and uncertain.
“I—I’m not sure what you mean. What makes you think I went anywhere?”
He told her how he had come into the garage the night before and stumbled in the darkness when he started for the light switch.
“I put my hand on the hood of the station wagon to get my balance,” he said. “It was warm. The radiator shell was even warmer. It was a fairly cold night.”
“I see,” she said in the same small voice. “And all this time you’ve been thinking I went to see Adler.”
“I didn’t know what to think. I guess I was afraid to ask. Look, sweetheart, I’m not the State’s Attorney, I’m your husband. This is something we have to work out together.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. I wasn’t going to say anything about it.”
“You told me Adler called you. So what, exactly, did he want?”
“Just about what I told you before. He said he wanted to see me. I told him that you were probably on your way there and he said that was all right too. He said maybe it would be better if the three of us talked things over together. I guess that’s why I decided to go.”
Hayden did not understand what she meant. He said so.
“I was afraid,” she said in an effort to explain. “Not for myself, for you.”
“For me?” he said in slow astonishment.
“Because I was afraid of what might happen. You have to try to understand—”
“I am trying.”
“You don’t know how you looked when you left the house to see Roger. You don’t get angry very often. Hardly ever. But what I saw was something more than anger. If you could have got your hands on Adler then I don’t know what you would have done. I didn’t think talking to Roger would help much and you had never seen Adler; you didn’t know what he was like. He could be arrogant and insulting and impossible. I thought if I was there when you came, at least there wouldn’t be any violence.”
“All right,” he said, accepting the explanation and trying to bring some order to his thoughts. “I’m not criticizing. I’m not blaming you. I just want to find out what happened.”
“Nothing happened,” she said, her voice forlorn. “I wasn’t there long enough. I knew the minute I walked in that it had been a mistake to come.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing much. He offered me a drink. He said that women always liked Tom Collinses and he was about to make one. He started to squeeze a lemon—”
Hayden interrupted as a new thought came to him. “Did you see him cut that lemon?”
“Yes.”
“Where did he get the knife?”
“I think he took it from a cabinet drawer.”
“What did he do with it after he finished?”
“Well, I guess he put it back.”
“All right,” he said, not wanting her to think too much about his questions. “He offered you a drink. Then what?”
“I told him I didn’t want one. He came over to help me off with my coat. I told him I’d leave it on, but he must have thought I wanted to be coaxed.... Oh, why do I have to explain all the details?” she cried, a break in her voice. “I simply couldn’t stand him. I knew I’d been a fool to come at all. I pushed him away and got out of there as fast as I could.”
“That’s all?”
“I think it’s more than enough.”
“Okay, okay. It’s over now. You went there because you thought you could be of some help to me. When you realized it was a bad idea you got out. Now did anyone see you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Where did you park?”
“Around the corner.”
“Good. Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” she said in quick exasperation. “How can you say that?”
“I mean, if no one saw you how can anyone suspect you?”
“They suspect you, don’t they?”
“Yes, I guess they do.”
“Then unless the police find out who did kill Adler they’ll keep right on suspecting both of us.”
“They’ll find out,” he said with a confidence he did not feel. “They usually do.”
“I don’t even see how finding Ted is going to help. He might even have sent Adler.”
“Whoa!” He again reached out and found her knee. He squeezed it. “Take it easy. Let the police worry about the murder. Just hope I get to Corbin and bring him back. You and he and I have some things to straighten out, remember?”
There was no reply to this, and as he turned off the West Side highway at Fifty-seventh Street he could feel her shoulder relax against his. A corner street light cast its rays momentarily on her face and he saw that she was watching him. He could not read her eyes but her mouth looked soft and he thought she was trying to smile.
“I’m sorry I got so worked up, darling,” she said. “I’ve been worried sick. I wanted to tell you before but I was afraid to.”
“I’m glad you did.” He made the turn on Ninth Avenue and started slowly south, his glance inspecting the lighted rooftop signs until he saw a hotel he had heard of but never patronized. He pointed it out to her as he made a left turn and started crosstown toward Seventh Avenue. He said he guessed he’d try it and she said why not, and was he sure he had everything he needed?
The question prompted him to review his hurried preparations. He was purposely traveling light because he felt he would succeed quickly or not at all. The overnight case contained clean linen, an extra pair of shoes, a robe, neckties, handkerchiefs. The blue-fabric flight bag held his toilet kit, pajamas, and a clean shirt.
He did not have as much cash as he wanted, but what he had in his wallet and what Marion had in the house came to just under two hundred dollars. Credit cards would take care of most everything, but to use them meant to give his right name, and since he did not know how long it would be before the police started looking for him, he intended to use a fictitious name at the hotel and at the airport and pay cash.
He told her he thought he was all set. He said she was not to worry about him. He said he would telephone her when he could and the sound of his words seemed to give him new confidence. Somehow he was no longer disturbed by what he was about to do; instead his concern was directed at his wife.
The thought of her driving home alone did not bother him greatly because she was both skillful and experienced behind the wheel of a car. But the thought of her spending the night alone in an empty house, and of the questioning and suspicion that was sure to follow tomorrow, depressed him and he said so as he pulled the station wagon into the curb opposite the hotel marquee.
“You’re sure you’re going to be all right?”
“Quite sure.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say tomorrow?”
“Of course I do.”
“Promise me you’ll drive home carefully.”
“I promise.”
He opened the door and stepped to the sidewalk, pointing out the two bags to the doorman who hurried up to help. He closed the door and leaned in the open window as she slid over on the seat, and before he realized it she had her arms around his neck and was kissing him soundly. She seemed, for the moment, to have forgotten her compunctions about the legality of their marriage, and as she pressed her cheek hard against his her words fell softly in his ear.
“Good-by, my darling. I wish I was staying with you tonight.”
“Yeah,” he said, so surprised and moved by her reaction that his voice came out husky. He had to swallow to clear his throat before he could repeat the word. “Yeah. Me too.... Drive carefully,” he said and stepped back as she put the car in gear and angled out into the moving traffic stream.