Give Up the Body (30 page)

The darkness was beginning to bother me. The trees were so close and so silent on one side, and the oily, ugly-looking pond hemmed me in on the other. I had to force myself to keep from running. And I couldn’t help thinking of my plan. We had made it so pointed that only Jeff and I knew what we were doing. My throat began to go dry and tighten up.

It was a relief when I heard Jeff say:

“You were here at about this minute, Frew?”

I was nearly to the dam when I came onto them. Frew stood at the junction of the path to the beach. Even in the darkness I could see that he was glowering. I stopped.

“This is what we figured took that extra time for you,” I said. “You met the murderer here.”

“That’s a lie,” he said hotly. “I wasn’t near here.”

“We know that,” Jeff said smoothly. “We just wanted to hear you say so. Okay, O’Hara, time’s up.”

I walked on, a little faster now. I knew where I was going, just as the murderer had. I crossed the dam, shaking a little at the thought of falling into that black, softly slapping water. I didn’t even dare consider missing my step and going over the other side. At the end of the dam I found Jocko.

“We’ve got about three minutes to fight,” I told him. “Two to argue and one for me to slice you up.”

He must have caught the tremor I was trying to keep out of my voice. “Scared, Addy?”

“A little,” I admitted.

“I still don’t like this,” he said.

“It’ll work out,” I insisted. My mouth was dry now. “We caught Frew up.”

“Good enough,” Jocko said.

I made a playful swipe at him with the spanner. “Time’s up. You’re dead, Jocko.”

I turned and walked a short distance up the path. I ducked into the bushes and dragged off my clothes, putting on those in the bundle I carried. I had got rid of the hat in my fight with Jocko. I wrapped the tattered slacks and the shirt around the spanner and stepped onto the path. The whole thing only took me a moment. I was far too frightened at the oppression of the forest to linger. I threw the bundle as far out over the water as I could. The spanner gave it enough weight so it made quite a splash.

At the sound of the splash, Tim Larson said, “Right.”

“Yes,” Glory said in a low voice.

“Go on back,” I told them. I walked on, crossing the pond at the bridge and following the path toward the house. At the point where the trees ended I stopped.

The darkness was intense. I could barely make out the figure huddled in the trees. Just the white face and the hands, almost as white. I stepped a little closer. This was the moment we hoped would resolve everything.

I said, “Just about this time, wasn’t it, Daisy? Just a few minutes before Frew came back down with your extra slacks?”

There was no answer. The figure was very still. I took a breath and moved a little.

And then everything exploded at once. The only warning I had was the crackling sound of something pushing at the brush and I could see the heavy club swinging toward me. I screamed and tried to push back, but the bushes were holding me, pressing against me.

A figure hurtled between me and that onrushing club. I heard the grisly sound of wood against flesh and the terrible grating noise of bone breaking under violent impact. There was a grunt of pain and then a sharp curse.

That was Jeff. Jeff was the one who had taken the blow of that club. I screamed again, furiously this time, and threw myself forward. I stumbled over his shadowy form and then I had a grip on someone else. I swung my arm as hard as I could, caught a hand with my own and hung on. Whoever I clung to was fighting wildly to get free. We fell together, rolling on the ground. I was getting badly scratched by bushes but I hung on grimly. I couldn’t let loose long enough to give that club another swing at me. I had some breath left and I used it for one final screech.

I was being hit violently in the face when lights flashed around me and the footsteps of a dozen men crashed through the underbrush. Then the police were there and my assailant and I were pulled apart.

Someone held an electric lantern high. I wiped my hand across my eyes and looked. Mrs. Willow was torn and disheveled and as out of breath as I. She looked wild. Viciously, frighteningly wild. And she was crying. Terrible sobs shook her whole body.

I was glad there were police around her. I was remembering how strong she was. I said, “So that’s it.”

She was looking at Jeff. “Where is Arthur? Where is my boy?” The words came out with a horrible, screaming sound.

Jeff swam into my view. He was standing to one side, pale with pain, holding onto one limp arm with his other hand. He managed a grin. “Young Frew didn’t clip me hard enough,” he said. “I belted him back into the bushes—for keeps.”

“The fool!” Mrs. Willow yelled. “The fool!” She kept screaming that, sobbing, and moaning it again all the time the deputies were taking her away.

I looked at Jeff then. “Thanks,” I said shakily.

It was Tiffin who answered me. “You took a chance, Adeline.”

I was surprised at the concern in his voice and the look of real worry on his long face. I tried to rally. “All for you, Godfrey,” I said sweetly. “I did it all for you….” And then I fainted dead away.

“O
BVIOUSLY,”
J
EFF SAID
, sipping Jud’s drinking whiskey, “she broke down.”

We were in the Pioneer office, Jeff and Jud and I. Beautiful warm sunshine streamed in through the grimy window, splashing on the littered floor and the comfortable dirty desks. I was still a little shaky but a night’s rest, under a sedative, had helped a lot. Jeff felt better too with his arm in a sling.

“And Frew admitted to being her accessory,” I said.

“When Frew went to get Daisy’s slacks,” Jeff went on, “he took the opportunity to tell his mother that Delhart and Glory were arguing down by the dam. She and Frew must have been seeking a chance for some time. Because he helped her get Willow’s old fishing clothes from the closet. And he stayed in her room to provide an alibi should the maid return early—while she went out and cut up Delhart. He claims he didn’t know she was going to kill anyone.”

“But Mrs. Willow was seen by Glory and Tim. They thought she was Willow and she almost got away with that. Unfortunately, she was seen by Daisy too—and Daisy knew very well who she was.”

Jud took his smelling liquor out and sniffed delicately.

“Motive?” he asked laconically.

It was my turn. “Hilton came forward and traded State’s evidence for partial immunity and pinned the embezzlement motive on her. She knew that Willow’s transactions would be discovered by the auditors of the books and she was going to protect his reputation—and her own livelihood.”

“That had something to do with it,” Jeff said. “Mainly it was because Delhart refused to recognize Frew, his own son, nor would he, we came to find, take Daisy after all those shenannigans. So Mrs. Willow stood to lose out all around. She wouldn’t get money either through Delhart’s providing for his son or through his marriage to her step-daughter.

“And again, Delhart wasn’t the kind of man to let her forget she had once been his servant.”

Jud said, “She confess?”

“Hardly,” Jeff answered. “She made a lot of wild statements while she was hysterical. They amount to a confession, but there was nothing formal.”

“Daisy provided the clincher,” I said. “The hospital called up and told Tiffin that Willow had recovered consciousness and was going to live. When Daisy heard the news, she turned on her stepmother and let loose.”

“Dear Edna,” I went on, “not only killed Delhart and nearly drove Daisy to suicide, but she tried to kill Willow and make it look like suicide. She surprised him in the bathtub and clubbed him; then she cut his wrists and pushed him under the water. Only she didn’t hold him under water long enough—and so he didn’t quite drown. Daisy spilled it all. How she saw her mother sneaking back from killing Delhart and how Glory’s phone call sent her mother and father into consultation.

“Glory was trying to blackmail Willow and he, knowing where he actually was at the time of the murder, realized it must have been his wife Glory had seen. When he faced her with it she tried to protect herself by getting rid of him. She would have gone after Glory and Daisy next, I suppose, if he wasn’t accepted as the killer.”

“And after you,” Jud reminded. “Damn fool trick, Addy.”

“It worked,” I said.

“Yes,” Jeff said pointedly. He felt of his broken arm.

“I am sorry, Jeff,” I said.

“I forgive you, for the last time,” Jeff said. “After all, it was your bright idea that’s putting Frew away for a long stretch.” He nodded to Jud. “She figured out that Frew was the one who cut Delhart’s body loose and let it float downriver.”

Jud looked puzzled. I said, “Since no one had time to go back from the house and do it, I reasoned that Delhart was cut loose while the men were still by that snag. Frew simply lingered behind as they started back, stepped into the water, and cut the belt. The current did the rest.”

“Frew was the link that led me to the solution, anyway,” I said. “Only he and Willow had time to be connected with the murder. And his stay indoors while hunting for Daisy’s slacks looked suspicious. That led me to his mother. A further check proved that Willow wouldn’t have had the time to go to the house, change clothes, kill Delhart, return to the road so he could walk into the house by the front way unless he were seen by Hilton. They would have met by the bridge. So it had to be Mrs. Willow.”

Jeff said, “Isn’t she wonderful. The Press is getting a bargain.”

“Then tell them to raise my space rates,” I said.

“They’re putting you on full time, O’Hara.”

“Not me,” I said. “I like it here.”

Jud took a deep sniff from his bottle and cleared his throat. “Ah, Jeff, I was telling Adeline that I planned to retire. Now I’ve always figured to give her the paper when I died. Why not sooner?”

He beamed on Jeff. “I’ll teach you to run the press, and you two can have the Pioneer for a wedding present.”

“Jud wants to travel,” I said quickly to Jeff. “He’s saved for years and years. Isn’t it swell?”

“Me?” Jeff said. “Me, live here in Teneskium?
Me?
”

“Don’t repeat yourself,” I said. “And what’s the matter with this town?”

“But, O’Hara, I’ve got a job. And I don’t want to commute.”

“You’ll stay here and run your half of the Pioneer,” I said. “Portland isn’t everything.”

Jeff rose and scratched Bosco. He yawned widely and so did she. “I’ll come back with an engagement ring after I get caught up on my sleep, O’Hara. But I won’t live in—in Teneskium.” He shuddered, kissed me, and walked out. He had brought his own car after his last trip to Portland and now he took it back with him.

“It’ll be all right, Addy,” Jud said soothingly.

I watched him sniff his bottle. “He’ll be back,” I said. “He’ll stay, too. He likes Bosco—and he likes my cooking. He even likes me.”

The End