CHAPTER NINETEEN
Having ticketed the big bronze lamp, which he had brought with him fromthe Selim house, and locked it away in the room devoted to "exhibits forthe state," Bonnie Dundee hurried into Penny's office, primed with thenews of his discovery of the secret hiding place and eager to lay hisnew theory before the district attorney.
"Bill's gone," Penny interrupted her swift typing to inform him. "ToChicago. He had only fifteen minutes to make the three o'clock train,after he received a wire saying his mother is not expected to live. Hetried to reach you at the Selim house, but one of Captain Strawn's mensaid you had left."
"I stopped on my way in to get a bite to eat," Dundee explainedmechanically. "I'd dashed off without my lunch, you know."
"Did you find the gun and silencer?" Penny asked.
"No. Whoever used it Saturday afternoon walked out of the house with it,in plain view of the police, and still has it.... Very convenient, too,in case another murder seems to be expedient--or amusing."
"Don't joke!" Penny shuddered. "But what in the world do you mean?"
Briefly Dundee told her, minimizing the hard work, the concentratedthinking, and the meticulous use of a tape measure which had resulted inthe discovery of the shelf between Nita's bedroom closet and the guestcloset in the little foyer.
"I see," Penny agreed, her husky voice slow and weighted with horror.She sat in dazed thought for a minute. "That rather brings it home to mycrowd--doesn't it?... To think that Dad--!... Probably everyone at theparty--except me--had heard all about Dad's 'simple and ingenious'arrangement for hiding the securities he sent on to New York before heran away.... And no outsiders--nobody but _us_--had a legitimate excusefor entering that closet.... Not even Dexter Sprague. It's one of hisaffectations not to wear a hat--"
"Is it?" Dundee pounced. "You're sure he wore no hat that afternoon? Didyou notice him when he left after I had dismissed you all?"
"Yes," Penny acknowledged honestly. "I paid attention to him, because Iwas hating him so. I believed then that he was the murderer, and I wasfurious with you and Captain Strawn for not arresting him.... He wasthe first to leave--just walked straight out; wouldn't even stop to talkwith Janet Raymond, who was trying to get a word with him. I saw himstart toward Sheridan Road--walking. He had no car, you know."
"Did you observe the others?" Dundee demanded eagerly. "Do you know whowent _alone_ to the guest closet?"
Penny shook her head. "Everybody was milling around in the hall, and Ipaid no attention. Lois said she would drive me home, and then I went into ask you to let me stay behind with you--"
"I remember.... Listen, Penny! I'm going to tell you something else thatnobody knows yet but Sanderson, Lydia and me. I don't have to ask younot to tell any of your friends. You know well enough that anything youlearn from either Sanderson or me is strictly confidential."
Penny nodded, her face very white and her brown eyes big with misery.
"I have every reason to believe that Nita Selim was a blackmailer, thatshe came to Hamilton for the express purpose of bleeding someone she hadknown before, or someone on whom she had 'the goods' from someunderworld source or other.... At any rate, Nita banked ten thousandmysterious dollars--$5,000 on April 28, and $5,000 on May 5. I talked toDrake last night, and I have his word for it that the money was in billsof varying denomination--none large--when Nita presented it for deposit.Therefore it seems clear to me that Nita got the money right here inHamilton; otherwise it would have come to her in the form of checks ordrafts or money orders. And it seems equally clear to me that she didnot bring that large amount of cash from New York with her, or she wouldhave deposited it in a lump sum in the bank immediately after herarrival."
"Yes," Penny agreed. "But why are you telling _me_?... Of course I'minterested--"
"Because I want you to tell me the financial status of each of yourfriends," Dundee said gently. "I know how hard it is for you--"
"You could find out from others, so I might as well tell you," Pennyinterrupted, with a weary shrug. "Judge Marshall is well-to-do, andKaren's father--her mother is dead--settled $100,000 on her when shemarried. She has complete control of her own money.... The Dunlaps arethe richest people in Hamilton, and have been for two or threegenerations. Lois was 'first-family' but poor when she married Peter,but he's been giving her an allowance of $20,000 a year for severalyears--not for running the house, but for her personal use. Clothes,charities, hobbies, like the Little Theater she brought Nita here toorganize--"
"I wouldn't say she spends a great deal of it on dress," Dundeeinterrupted with a grin.
"Lois doesn't give a hang how she looks or what anyone thinks ofher--which is probably one reason she is the best-loved woman in ourcrowd," Penny retorted loyally. "The Miles' money is really Flora's,and she has the reputation of being one of the shrewdest business'men' in town. When she married Tracey nearly eight years ago, he wasjust a salesman in her father's business--the biggest dairy in thestate ... 'Cloverblossom' butter, cream, milk and cheese, youknow.... Well, when Flora married Tracey, her father retired and letTracey run the business for Flora, and he's still managing it, but Florais the real head.... Now, let's see.... Oh, yes, the Drakes!... Johnnyis vice president of the Hamilton National Bank, as you know, and ownsa big block of the stock. Carolyn has no money of her own, except whatJohnny gives her, and I rather think he isn't any too generous--"
"They don't get along very well together, do they?"
"N-no!" Penny agreed reluctantly. "You see, Johnny Drake was simply notcut out for love and marriage. He's a born ascetic, would have been amonk two or three centuries ago, but he cares as much for Carolyn as hecould for any woman.... The Hammond boys have some inherited money, andClive has made a big financial success of architecture.... That leavesonly Janet and Polly, doesn't it?... Polly's an orphan and has barrelsof money, and will have barrels more when her aunt, with whom she lives,dies and leaves her the fortune she has always promised her."
"And Janet Raymond?"
"Janet's father is pretty rich--owns a big wire-fence factory, but Janethas only a reasonable allowance," Penny answered. "As for me--I'm _very_rich: I get thirty-five whole dollars a week, to support myself andMother on."
Dundee remained thoughtfully silent for a long minute. Then: "All yougirls are alumnae of Forsyte-on-the-Hudson, and Nita Selim came hereimmediately after she had directed a Forsyte play.... Tell me,Penny--was any of the Hamilton girls ever in disgrace while in theForsyte School?"
Penny's face flamed. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but so far as I knowthere was never anything of the sort. Of course we all graduateddifferent years, except Karen and I, and I might not have heard--Butno!" she denied vehemently. "There wasn't any scandal on a Hamilton girlever! I'm sure of it!"
But her very vehemence convinced Bonnie Dundee that she was not at allsure....
He looked at his watch. Four o'clock.... By this time Nita Selim--tinycold body, royal blue velvet dress, black curls piled high in anold-fashioned "French roll," bullet-torn heart--were nothing more than alittle heap of grey ashes.... Would Lydia Carr have them put in a sealedurn and carry them about with her always?
"I'm going out now, Penny, and I shan't be back today," he told the girlwho had returned to her furious typing. "I'll telephone in about an hourto see if anything has come up.... By the way, how do I get to theDunlap house?"
"It's in the Brentwood section. You know--that cluster of hills aroundMirror Lake. Most of the crowd live out there--the Drakes, the Mileses,the Beales, the Marshalls. The Dunlap house stands on the highest hillof all. It's grey stone, a little like a French chateau. We used to liveout there, too, in a Colonial house my mother's father built, but Dadpersuaded Mother to sell, when he went into that Primrose Meadowsventure. The Raymonds bought it.... But why do you want to see Lois?"
"Thanks much, Penny. I don't know what I should do without you," Dundeesaid, without answering her question, and reached for his hat.
After ten minutes of driving, the last
mile of which had circled asmooth silver coin of a lake, Dundee stopped his car and let his eyesrove appreciatively. He had made this trip the day before to questionLydia, already installed as nurse for the Miles children, but he hadbeen in too great a hurry then to see much of this section consecratedto Hamilton's socially elect....
Georgian "cottage," Spanish hacienda, Italian villa, Tudor mansion--thatwas the Miles home; Colonial mansion where Penny had once lived; greystone chateau.... Not one of them blatantly new or marked with thedollar sign. Dundee sighed a little enviously as he turned his car intothe winding driveway that led up the highest hill to the Dunlap home.
Lois Dunlap betrayed no surprise when the butler led Dundee to theflag-stoned upper terrace overlooking Mirror Lake, where she was havingtea with her three children and their governess. For a moment thedetective had the illusion that he was in England again....
"How do you do, Mr. Dundee?... This is Miss Burden.... My threeoffspring--Peter the third, Eleanor, and Bobby.... Will you please takethe children to the playroom now, Miss Burden?... Thank you!... Tea, Mr.Dundee? Or shall I order you a highball?"
"Nothing, thanks," Dundee answered, grateful for her friendliness butnonplussed by it. Not for the first time he felt a sick distaste for theprofession he had chosen....
"It's all over," Lois Dunlap said in a low voice, as the butlerretreated. "Lydia made her look very beautiful.... I thought it would berather horrible, having to see her, as the poor child requested in hernote to Lydia, but I'm glad now I did. She looked as sweet and young andinnocent as she must have been when she first wore the royal bluevelvet."
"I'm glad," Dundee said sincerely. Then he leaned toward her across thetea table. "Mrs. Dunlap, will you please tell me just how you persuadedMrs. Selim to come to Hamilton--so far from Broadway?"
"Why certainly!" Lois Dunlap looked puzzled. "But it really did not takemuch persuasion after I showed her some group photographs we had madewhen we Forsyte girls put on 'The Beggar's Opera' here last October--abenefit performance for the Forsyte Alumnae Scholarship fund."
With difficulty Dundee controlled his excitement. "May I see thosephotographs, please?"
"I had to hunt quite a bit for them," his hostess apologized ten minuteslater, as she spread the glossy prints of half a dozen photographs forDundee's inspection. "Do you know 'The Beggar's Opera'?"
"John Gay--eighteenth century, isn't it?... As I remember it, it isquite--" and Dundee hesitated, grinning.
"Bawdy?" Lois laughed. "Oh, very! We couldn't have got away with it ifit hadn't been a classic. As it was, we had to tone down some of thenaughtiest passages and songs. But it was lots of fun, and the boysenjoyed it hugely because it gave them an opportunity to wear tightsatin breeches and lace ruffles.... This is my husband, Peter. He adoredbeing the highwayman, 'Robin of Bagshot'," and she pointed out a stocky,belligerent-looking man near the end of the long row of costumedplayers, in a photograph which showed the entire cast.
"You say that Mrs. Selim accepted your proposal _after_ she saw thesephotographs?" Dundee asked. "Had she refused before?"
"Yes. I'd gone to New York for the annual Easter Play which the ForsyteSchool puts on, because I'm intensely interested in semi-professionaltheatricals," Lois explained. "Nita had done a splendid job with theplay the year before, and I spoke to her, after this year's show wasover, about coming to Hamilton. She was not at all interested, butpolite and sweet about it, so I invited her to have lunch with me thenext day, and showed her these photographs of our own play in the hopethat they would make her take the idea more seriously. We had borrowed aLittle Theater director from Chicago and I knew we had done a reallygood job of 'The Beggar's Opera.' The local reviews--"
"These 'stills' look extremely professional. I don't wonder that theyinterested Nita," Dundee cut in. "Will you tell me what she said?"
"She rather startled me," Lois Dunlap confessed. "I first showed herthis picture of the whole cast, and as I was explaining the play abit--she didn't know 'The Beggar's Opera'--she almost snatched thephotograph out of my hands. As she studied it, her lovely black eyesgrew perfectly enormous. I've never seen her so excited since--"
"What did she say?" Dundee interrupted tensely.
"Why, she said nothing just at first, then she began to laugh in thequeerest way--almost hysterically. I asked her why she was laughing--Iwas a little huffy, I'm afraid--and she said the men looked so adorablyconceited and funny. Then she began to ask the names of the players. Itold her that 'Macheath'--he's the highwayman hero, you know--was playedby Clive Hammond; that my Peter was 'Robin of Bagshot', that JohnnyDrake was another highwayman, 'Mat of the Mint', that Tracey Milesplayed the jailor, 'Lockit'--"
"Did she show more interest in one name than another?"
"Yes. When I pointed out Judge Marshall as 'Peachum', the fence, shecried out suddenly: 'Why, I know him! I met him once on a party.... Ishe really a _judge_?' and she laughed as if she knew something veryfunny about Hugo--as no doubt she did. He was an inveterate'lady-killer' before his marriage, as you may have heard."
"Do you think her first excitement was over seeing Judge Marshall amongthe players?" Dundee asked.
"No," Lois answered, after considering a moment. "I'm sure she didn'tnotice him until I pointed him out. The face in this group that seemedto interest her most was Flora Miles'. Flora played the part of 'LucyLockit', the jailor's daughter, and Karen Marshall the other femininelead, 'Polly Peachum', you know. But it was Flora's picture she lingeredover, so I showed her this picture," and Lois Dunlap reached for theportrait of Flora Miles, unexpectedly beautiful in the eighteenthcentury costume--tight bodice and billowing skirts.
"She questioned you about Mrs. Miles?" Dundee asked.
"Yes. All sorts of questions--her name, and whether she was married andthen who her husband was, and if she had had stage experience," Loisanswered conscientiously. "She explained her interest by saying Floralooked more like a professional actress than any of the others, and thatwe should give her a real chance when we got our Little Theater going. Iasked her if that meant she was going to accept my offer, and she saidshe might, but that she would have to talk it over with a friend first.Just before midnight she telephoned me at my hotel that she had decidedto accept the job."
Dundee's heart leaped. It was very easy to guess who that "friend" was!But he controlled his excitement, asked his next question casually:
"Did she show particular interest in any other player?"
"Yes. She asked a number of questions about Polly Beale, and seemedincredulous when I told her that Polly and Clive were engaged. Pollyplayed 'Mrs. Peachum', and was a riot in the part.... But Nita'sintuition was correct. Flora carried off the acting honors.... Oh, yes,she also asked, quite naively, if all my friends were rich, too, andcould help support a Little Theater. I reassured her on that point."
"And," Dundee reflected silently, "upon a point much more important toNita Selim." Aloud he said: "I don't see _you_ among the cast."
"Oh, I haven't a grain of talent," Lois Dunlap laughed. "I can't act fortwo cents--can I, Peter darling?... Here's the redoubtable 'Robin ofBagshot' in person, Mr. Dundee--my husband!"
The detective rose to shake hands with the man he had been too absorbedto see or hear approaching.
"You're the man from the district attorney's office?" Peter Dunlapscowled, his hand barely touching Dundee's. "I suppose you're trying toget at the bottom of the mystery of why my wife brought that Selimwoman--"
"Don't call her 'that Selim woman', Peter!" Lois Dunlap interrupted withmore sharpness than Dundee had ever seen her display. "You never likedthe poor girl, were never just to her--"
"Well, it looks as if my hunch was correct, doesn't it?" the stocky,rugged-faced man retorted. "I told you at the beginning to pay her offand send her back to New York--"
"You knew I couldn't do that, even to please you, dear," Lois said. "Butplease don't let's quarrel about poor Nita again. She's dead now, and Iwant to do anything I can to help bring her murd
erer to justice."
"There's nothing you can do, Lois, and I hope Mr.--ah--Dundee will notfind it necessary to quiz you again."
Dundee reached for his hat. "I hope so, too, Mr. Dunlap.... By the way,you are president of the Chamber of Commerce, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am! And we're having a meeting tonight, at which that Spragueman's bid on making a historical movie of Hamilton will be turneddown--unanimously. Now that the Selim woman isn't here to vamp myfellow-members into doing anything she wants, I think I can safelypromise you that Dexter Sprague will have no further business inHamilton--unless it is police business!"
"Thanks for the tip, Mr. Dunlap," Dundee said evenly. "I hope youenjoyed your fishing trip. Where do you fish, sir?"
"A tactful way of asking for my alibi, eh?" Dunlap was heavilysarcastic. "I left Friday afternoon for my own camp in the mountains, upin the northwest part of the state. I drove my own car, went alone,spent the week-end alone, and got back this noon. I read of the murderin a paper I picked up in a village on my way home. I didn't like NitaSelim, and I don't give a damn about her being murdered, except that mywife's name is in all the papers.... Any questions?"
"None, thanks!" Dundee answered curtly, then turned to Lois Dunlap whowas watching the two men with troubled, embarrassed eyes. "I am verygrateful to you, Mrs. Dunlap, for your kindness."
The detective's angry resentment of Peter Dunlap's attitude lasted untilhe had circled Mirror Lake and was on the road into Hamilton. Thencommonsense intervened. Dunlap was undoubtedly devoted to his wife.Penny had said that he had "never looked at another woman." It wasrather more than natural that he should be in a futile, blustering rageat the outcome of Lois' friendship for the little Broadway dancer....
Free of anger, his mind reverted to the story Lois Dunlap had told him.For in it, he was sure, was hidden the key to the mystery of NitaSelim's murder. Not at all interested in the proposition to organize aLittle Theater in Hamilton, Nita had been seized with a strangeexcitement as soon as she was shown photographs of a large group ofHamilton's richest and most prominent inhabitants.... But there was therub! _A large group!_ Would that group of possible suspects never narrowdown to one? Of course there was Judge Marshall, but if Lois Dunlap'smemory was to be trusted Nita had not noticed the elderly Beau Brummel'spicture until _after_ that strange, hysterical excitement had takenpossession of her. And if it had been Judge Marshall whom she had cometo Hamilton to blackmail would Nita not have guarded her tongue beforeLois? The same was true about her extraordinary interest in FloraMiles....
Dundee tried to put himself in Nita's place, confronted suddenly with agroup picture containing the likeness of a person--man or woman--againstwhom she knew something so dreadful and so secret that her silence wouldbe worth thousands of dollars. Would _he_ have chattered of that veryperson? No! Of anyone else but that particular person! It was easy topicture Nita, her head whirling with possibilities, hitting upon themost conspicuous player in the group--dark, tense, theatrical Flora,already pointed out to her as one of the two female leads in theopera.... But of whom had she really been thinking?
Again a blank wall! For in that group photograph of the cast of "TheBeggar's Opera" had appeared every man, woman and girl who had beenNita's guest on the day of her murder....
Dundee, paying more attention to his driving, now that he was in thebusiness section of the city, saw ahead of him the second-rate hotelwhere Dexter Sprague had been living since Nita had wired him to joinher in Hamilton. On a sudden impulse the detective parked his car infront of the hotel and five minutes later was knocking upon Sprague'sdoor.
"Well, what do you want now?" the unshaven, pallid man demandedungraciously.
Dundee stepped into the room and closed the door. "I want you to tell methe name of the man Nita Selim came here to blackmail, Sprague."
"Blackmail?" Sprague echoed, his pallid cheeks going more yellow."You're crazy! Nita came here to take a job--"
"She came here to blackmail someone, and I am convinced that she sentfor you to act as a partner in her scheme.... No, wait! I'm _convinced_,I tell you," Dundee assured him grimly. "But I'll make a trade with you,in behalf of the district attorney. Tell me the name of the person sheblackmailed, and I will promise you immunity from prosecution as heraccomplice."
"Get out of my room!" and Dexter Sprague's right forefinger trembledviolently as it pointed toward the door in a melodramatic gesture.
"Very well, Sprague," Dundee said. "But let me give you a friendlywarning. _Don't try to carry on the good work._ Nita got ten thousanddollars, but she also got a bullet through her heart. And the gun whichfired that bullet is safely back in the hands of the killer.... You'renot going to get that movie job, and I was just afraid you might betempted!... Good afternoon!"