CHAPTER TEN
As Dexter Sprague had glibly and plausibly explained away every sinisteraspect of the note he had written to Nita Selim that day, SpecialInvestigator Dundee was recalling with verbatim vividness his argumentwith Captain Strawn of the Homicide Squad immediately after his arrivalinto the house of violent death.
He had said then: "The person who killed Nita Selim, was so well knownto her, and his--or her--presence in this room so natural a thing thatshe paid no attention to his or her movements and was concentrating onthe job of powdering her very pretty face."
And he had said further, in face of the disappearance of the gun and inexplanation of the fact that all twelve of these people had immediatelyprotested to Strawn that they had heard no shot:
"This was a premeditated murder, of course. The Maxim silencer--unlessthey are all lying about not hearing a shot--proves that. Silencers aredamned hard to get hold of, but people with plenty of money can managemost things."
And as Dexter Sprague had talked on, more and more glibly, Dundee hadsuddenly found an explanation which fitted his own argument with suchperfection that he wondered, naively, if he were perhaps gifted withclairvoyance.
Of all these twelve people, whom he had questioned so relentlessly, onlyDexter Sprague could easily have come into possession of a Maximsilencer. He had dilated proudly upon the fact that he had been anassistant director at the Altamont Studios on Long Island. And theAltamont company had recently finished making a series of "underworld"motion pictures--crook dramas featuring gunmen with "rods" made eerilynoiseless by Maxim silencers.
A bit of information he had picked up in a motion picture magazine hadhurtled into the logical chain of Dundee's reasoning: assistantdirectors were in charge of "props"; it was their business to see thatno article needed for the production of a picture was lost or missingwhen the director needed it. Dexter Sprague had said that he had"dropped everything" to come when Nita Selim wired him of the Chamber ofCommerce project to make a "booster" movie of Hamilton.
Perhaps he _had_ dropped everything. But--_had he hesitated long enoughto pick up a Maxim silencer and a blunt-nosed automatic_? And was the"row" which Sprague had been so glibly explaining away an ancient one--arow so deadly that, when Nita Selim had refused to heed his writtenwarning, her murder had become necessary?
It was with all this in mind that Bonnie Dundee flung his challenge: "Imust conclude that you are all lying or that Nita Selim was killed witha gun equipped with a Maxim silencer."
And his eyes, terrible with their command that the weakling should breakand confess, were upon Dexter Sprague. But Sprague did not break. Hestared back blankly....
If his eyes and his attention had included the whole group it ispossible that what happened would not have taken Dundee so completely bysurprise. He had paid little attention to a sort of concerted gasp, aslight movement among the group farthest from him.
But not even his intense concentration upon Sprague could prevent hishearing Karen Marshall's childish voice, tremulous with fear:
"No, no, Hugo! Don't--don't!"
He whirled from Sprague in time to see Judge Marshall disengaging hisarm from his young wife's clinging fingers, to note, with profoundastonishment, that Drake was stepping hastily aside, so that not evenhis coat sleeve might be brushed by the advancing figure of the elderly,retired judge. And before Judge Marshall had time to speak, Dundee sawthat a blight had touched, at last, the solid friendship of the women;that they did not look at each other with that air of standing togetherwhatever happened, but that their eyes, not meeting at all, becamesecret, calculating, afraid....
"Sir!" Judge Marshall began pompously, when he had planted himselfsquarely before the young detective, "It shall never be said of me thatI have tried, even in the slightest way, to hamper the course ofjustice."
"I am sure of that, Judge Marshall," Dundee replied courteously, but hispulses were hammering. What, in God's name, did this long-winded oldfool have to tell him?... "You have some information you believe may bevaluable, Judge?"
"I do not believe it will be at all valuable, sir. On the contrary!" theold man retorted indignantly. "But to suppress the fact at this juncturemight lead to grave misunderstandings later, when it inevitably comes tolight. So, sir, it is my duty to inform you that I myself own a Colt's.32, as well as a Maxim silencer."
"What!" Dundee exclaimed incredulously. He was conscious that, behindhim, Captain Strawn was getting to his feet.
"There is no need to get out your handcuffs, Captain Strawn!" JudgeMarshall warned him majestically. "I assure you that I have not violatedthe law. Every judge, active and retired, is entitled to a permit tocarry a weapon, and I long ago availed myself of the privilege. Nor am Iabout to make a confession of murder!"
"There ain't no permit, so far as I know, Judge," Strawn growled, "forany man, whoever he may be--God A'mighty himself not excepted--to tote agun with a silencer on it."
Karen Marshall was crying now, with the abandoned grief of a pettedchild.
"Granted, Captain!" Judge Marshall snapped. "But it happens that I donot 'tote' my gun with the silencer on it. If it interests you, I may aswell explain that I came by the silencer several years ago, when I wason the bench. A notorious Chicago gunman, on trial for murder here, andacquitted by a feeble-minded jury, made me a present of the verysilencer he had used in killing his victim--an ironic gesture, a gestureof supreme insolence, but an entirely safe gesture, since he well knewthat a man once acquitted of a crime cannot again be placed in jeopardyfor the same offence."
"So you kept the silencer as a curiosity, Judge Marshall?" Dundeeinterrupted the pompous flow of rhetoric.
"For years--yes," the ex-judge answered, then his face went yellowand very old. "As I told you just now, I will withhold no fact thatmay be of any relevance whatever.... About two months ago--in March,I believe--our little group here took up target-shooting as a fad.Several of us became quite expert with revolver and rifle. Mr.Drake--" and he nodded toward the banker, who instantly averted his eyes,"--conceived the idea of practising the draw-from-the-hip sort ofrevolver-shooting--the kind one sees in Wild West movies, you know--"
"I think you might add, Hugo," Drake cut in angrily, "that I had in mindthe hope of being able to protect the bank in case of a holdup!"
"And the silencer, Judge Marshall?" Captain Strawn prodded.
Judge Marshall flushed, and fingered the end of a waxed mustache. "Thesilencer, sir, was my wife's idea. You see, sir, we are fortunate enoughto be the parents of an infant son. He was just a month old when Ipainted a bull's eye upon the brick wall of our back garden and invitedour friends to indulge their fad as our guests. The shooting awakenedthe baby so frequently that Karen--Mrs. Marshall--dug up the silencer,which I had shown her as a memento of my career on the bench. Thereafterwe confined our practice almost exclusively to drawing from the hip andshooting without sighting. It is impossible to sight with a gun equippedwith a silencer, you know, since the silencer covers the sighter on thebarrel."
"It sure does," Strawn drawled. "So every last one of you folks had agood deal of this sort of practice, I take it?"
Judge Marshall glanced about the room, as if he could not recall theface of everyone present.
"Yes, all of us--except Mr. Sprague and--Penny, my dear, did you join usat all?"
The girl who had once been in on every sport that this crowd ofHamilton's socially elect indulged in, flushed a painful red.
"No, Hugo. I--I have to stay with Mother on Sunday mornings, you know."
"Your target practice was a Sunday morning diversion, then, JudgeMarshall?" Dundee asked.
"Yes. We usually have an hour of the sport--between eleven and noon, onSundays. We've been having a sort of tournament--quite sharplycompetitive--"
"When did you and your friends practise last?" Dundee asked.
"Last Sunday. Tomorrow was to mark the end of the 'tournament'," theJudge answered.
"And when did you last see your gun and silencer?
" Dundee persisted.
"Last Sunday, of course.... Why, Good Lord!" Marshall ejaculated. _"Itwas Nita herself who put the gun away!_"
There was a collective gasp of relief. Eyes could meet eyes--now. But itwas Flora Miles who voiced the thought or hope that seemed apparent onevery face.
"That's why I didn't hear anyone talking when I was in the closet!" shecried, her voice almost hysterical in its vehemence. "_There wasn'tanybody but Nita in the room!_ She committed suicide! She stole poorHugo's gun and the silencer and committed suicide!"
"At a distance of from ten to fifteen feet?" Dundee asked withill-concealed sarcasm. "And when she was powdering her face? And justafter entering the room, blithely singing a Broadway hit?"
"Maybe the lady is right, boy," Captain Strawn interposed mildly. "I'veheard of people rigging up contrivances--"
"Which make the gun and the silencer disappear by magic?" Dundeedemanded. "No, folks, I'm afraid the suicide theory is no good.... Now,Judge Marshall," and he turned again to the creator of the biggestsensation since the investigation into Nita Selim's death had got underway, "you say that Mrs. Selim herself put the gun away.... Will youexplain the circumstances?"
The elderly man's face had gone yellowish again. "Certainly! Nita Selimand I were the last to leave the back garden. She was particularly poorat the sport--never made a bull's eye during the four or five Sundaymornings after Lois--Mrs. Dunlap--drew her into our set. She begged fora few more shots, and I stayed with her, after the others had gone intothe house for--er--refreshment. She fired the last bullet in the chamberof the Colt's, and together we walked to the house, entering the littleroom at the rear where all sorts of sports equipment are kept--fishingrods and tackle, golf clubs, bows and arrows, skis, etc. She wascarrying the gun, unscrewing the silencer as we walked. It is my habitto keep the pistol and the silencer in a drawer in a little cornercupboard--"
"Locked, up?" Dundee asked sharply.
"Usually locked, but not always, I am afraid," Judge Marshall answeredreluctantly.
"And you saw Mrs. Selim place the gun and the silencer in the drawer?"
"I--thought I did, but I was really not watching closely. As a matter offact, I stopped to look over a fishing rod, with a view to trying it outthe first good fishing weather--"
"Was Mrs. Selim wearing a coat or cloak?" Dundee cut in impatiently.
"Why, I don't know--"
"Yes, she was, Hugo!" Karen cried out eagerly. "It was quite chilly lastSunday morning. Remember? We all had on coats or sweaters. Nita wore adark-green leather jacket with big pockets--"
"And she left in a great hurry, without even waiting for a drink," FloraMiles contributed triumphantly. "I tell you, she took them away in herpockets."
"Your guess may be correct, Mrs. Miles," Dundee agreed, "but I think wehad better not come to any definite conclusion until we know that JudgeMarshall's automatic and silencer are really missing.... Is there anyoneat your house now, Judge, whom you can ask to look for it?"
"Certainly. The butler.... Shall I telephone him?"
Accompanied by Captain Strawn, the ex-judge went to the telephone in thelittle foyer between Nita Selim's bedroom and the main hall. And withinfive minutes he was back, nodding his head gravely.
"Hinson tells me that the Colt's and the silencer are both missing,sir.... May I express my profound regret that my possession of--"
"Some other time, Judge Marshall!" Dundee interrupted curtly, andhurried from the room, followed by Strawn, who nodded to SergeantTurner, still lounging wearily in a far corner of the living room, tostand guard vigilantly.
"Well, Bonnie, here's the devil to pay," Strawn gloomed, but Dundee madefor the telephone without answering.
He called a number, then curtly demanded: "Dr. Price, please!... Yes, Iknow he's busy on an autopsy. Just tell him that Dundee, of the districtattorney's office, wants to speak to him."
There was a long pause, then: "Hello, Dr. Price!... Dundee.... What arethe caliber and type of bullet that killed Nita Selim?... Thanks much,doctor.... Anything new?... Fine! Thanks again!"
He hung up the receiver and faced Strawn. "Bullet from a Colt's .32," hesaid grimly. "I suggest you send one of your men around to the Marshallhome to pick up a bullet that was shot in their damned target practice.If you send the two bullets tonight, registered mail, to Wright, theballistics expert in Chicago, he can probably wire you tomorrow morningas to whether the same gun was used to fire both."
"Sure, Bonnie," Strawn agreed lugubriously. "I was going to do justthat.... Say, this town is getting to be worse than Chicago!"
When he re-entered the living room Dundee began upon the judge again,regardless of the fact that the elderly husband was murmuringconsolatory endearments to his young wife.
"Judge Marshall, how many keys are there to the cupboard drawer in whichyour gun and silencer were kept?"
"Just one. I have it with me," the old man answered wearily.
"Then when Hinson, your butler, looked for them, he found the drawerunlocked?"
"He did. I confess to almost criminal negligence--"
"Then so far as you know, the gun and silencer could have been removedat any time by any guest of yours between noon last Sunday and--today?"Dundee went on relentlessly.
"I--suppose so. But these people have been my close friends for years,"the judge answered. "Not one of them, sir--"
"After Mrs. Selim's departure last Sunday, did your other guests remainfor any length of time?"
"For an hour or more, I think. Lois and Peter Dunlap remained for ourtwo o'clock Sunday dinner, but the others drifted away to variousengagements."
"Did any of you return to the room where the gun was kept?"
"I can speak only for myself and Peter--Mr. Dunlap," Judge Marshallanswered, flushing with indignation. "The two of us went down justbefore dinner was served. I wanted to show him some new flies for troutcasting."
"Your home is a popular rendezvous for your intimates, is it not?"
"I pride myself that it is, sir!"
"And guests run in and out, having the freedom of the place?"
"Certainly, sir!... And since I am not so stupid as you imagine, I cantell you now that I understand the drift of your questions, and canforestall them: Yes, all of these people--_my friends_!--have hadopportunity to take the gun and the silencer from the cupboard since itwas placed there last Sunday, if it _was_ placed there by Mrs. Selim.But may I remind you, sir, that opportunity alone is not sufficient;that _motive_--"
"Since Mrs. Selim is dead, murdered by the weapon which was stolen, wecan assume, Judge Marshall, that someone had motive," Dundee remindedhim implacably, for in his mind there was no doubt that the ballisticsexpert would bear him out.
There was a heavy, throbbing silence. The group that, with the exceptionof Dexter Sprague, had been so united, so cemented with long-sustainedfriendship, again dissolved visibly before Dundee's eyes into elevenindividuals, each shrinking into himself, mentally drawing away from anypossible contamination with a murderer....
"You have said, Judge Marshall," Dundee went on at last, "that MissCrain and Mr. Sprague were not at your home for target practice Sunday.Has either of them been in your home during this past week?"
"Penny--Miss Crain--spent an evening with my wife when I was--er--awayfrom home on business. That was last Tuesday, I believe--"
"Yes, it was Tuesday, Hugo," Penny Crain interrupted firmly. "And Karencan vouch for the fact that I did not go into the gun room."
"Don't be silly, Penny!" Carolyn Drake scolded, as if she had long beenbursting to speak. "Giving an alibi! As if _any_ of us who were playingbridge while that woman was being shot _needs_ any alibi!... But I'lltell you what _I_ think, Mr. Detective! I think Nita herself stole thegun and the silencer, to kill Dexter Sprague with, and that _he_ stoleit from her and murdered _her_! Nobody else has the slightest scrap of amotive, and that note he wrote her ought to be enough to hang him on!"
Dexter Sprague had struggled to his feet du
ring the woman's hystericalattack, his face like chalk, his eyes blazing. But Dundee waved himaside peremptorily.
"One more question, Judge Marshall," he said suavely, as if he had notheard a word that Carolyn Drake had said. "You knew Mrs. Selim beforeher arrival in Hamilton with Mrs. Dunlap, I believe.... Just when andwhere did you meet her?"