Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 140, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 853 & 854, September/October 2012
- Автор: Макдермид Вэл, Манфредо Лу
- Год: 2012
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines
- ISBN: 0013-6328
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 140, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 853 & 854, September/October 2012». Краткое содержание книги:
I’ll be damned, I thought. It sounded like the little Frenchman respected me.
“Jamison slipped the key to his wife’s room into my jacket pocket when we were down in the ballroom,” he said. “I was in the twelfth-floor stairwell, watching until I saw you leave. About half-past midnight, I went in. The lights were out, and she was lying there in bed. I ripped off the stones, and was going to scram when I heard you coming. I slipped behind the door. Then, after I sapped you, I ducked out. I swear, she was alive and sitting up on the bed when I last saw her.”
“Keep talking.”
“That’s about it.” Joe shrugged. “Jamison had told me his room number. I went down to eleven, and slid the key to twelve twenty-four under his door. That was my signal the job was done and I had the goods, see.”
“Why didn’t Mrs. Jamison call the cops?”
“Oh, I pulled the phone out of the wall before I took the ice. Listen, Swiver, he’s coming here.”
“Who?” I said.
“Jamison. I thought that was him when you buzzed. He’s coming here to pick up the necklace and pay me.”
“Are you crazy, Joe? You let him come to your own house? You’re getting careless.”
“Ahh. It seemed safe enough,” he said. “He’s just a businessman.”
“I think he’s a killer,” I said.
I heard steps in Joe’s kitchen, and Jed Jamison, dressed in his tux again, stepped into the dining room. “He’s right, Joe. You’re getting careless. Your kitchen door was unlocked.” He was carrying a Colt automatic. He had a one-inch cut in his forehead from the hairline down, but otherwise looked fresh and well groomed for an evening out. With his other hand, he yanked on a slender wrist and Velma stumbled in on her red pumps.
“Frank!” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Later, sweetheart,” I said. It wasn’t a good position to be in with a killer. Joe and his little Beretta were facing me. Jamison was behind Joe’s right shoulder, and there was a thin modern-style couch between them. I was about five or six feet from Joe, ten or twelve feet from Jamison, but I was unarmed. From Jamison’s point of view, Joe and I were at a tight angle. He wouldn’t have to move his hand more than an inch or two after shooting Joe to drill me too, and Velma shielded him.
“We need to talk,” I said.
Jamison guided Velma around the couch and they sat down. “Okay, peeper. Let’s start by talking about the White Tiger. I came for my ice, Joe.”
“Sure, Jed, sure,” said Joe. “Listen, can I have a drink?”
“Yeah. Put the gun down, Joe, and get us all some drinks. You have scotch? We’ll have scotch. We’ll all drink some scotch and we’ll talk.” Joe put the Beretta down on the cocktail table in front of Jamison’s legs. He walked over to a liquor cart parked by the window.
“Scotch sounds good, Jamison. I’ll make it four, okay, Swiver? Miss Peregrino?”
I didn’t care, but figured I’d play along. “Sure, Joe. Scotch’d be good right now.”
Velma nodded. “What’s going on, Jed?” she said.
“Just business, doll,” he said. Joe opened his ice bucket and started to put some rocks in thick crystal glasses.
“No ice for me,” said Jamison.
“Sure, Jed. Swiver, I know you like it on the rocks.” It wasn’t a question. He used his tongs to put ice in three glasses. He had a bottle on the cart with three concave sides, and he poured four drinks from that. He put two down on the cocktail table, one for Velma, and the neat one for Jamison. He walked over and handed me one, then ambled back to his drink at the liquor cart.
“To crime,” said Jamison, raising his glass. Velma looked at me, and I quietly took a sip. She drank too. My scotch was warm. I looked down into the glass. There was the White Tiger necklace, resting in a whiskey bath. With my hand around the glass, Jamison couldn’t see it.
“So, Mr. Swiver, is it? I think we’ve met.” He fingered the cut on his forehead. “I really ought to go get stitches on this. I’m going to have a scar. Anyhow, here you are again. You’re quite a nuisance.”
“Maybe you should have just killed me when I was lying on the floor in the Biarritz,” I said. “Or would that have made it too complicated? Joe was the fall guy, the way you planned it. But only for the robbery-murder. One murder.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Swiver,” said Jamison. “I was with Velma here all night. You should know. You busted in on us.”
“You knew Jane was planning to divorce you,” I said, “and you couldn’t let her do that, could you, Jamison? Because the vineyards are in her name. You planned the robbery so you could kill her.”
“Kill his wife? What are you talking about, Frank?” asked Velma. “He was with me.”
“Think, sweetheart. He must have left you, maybe just for a few minutes... sometime after I came in,” I said.
“When you came in, it ruined the mood,” said Jamison. “I said to Miss Peregrino, ‘Let’s go out. I know a gambling house on North Point.’ But our luck wasn’t very good, so we didn’t stay long.”
“And I said sure,” said Velma. “It sounded like fun, Frank. And you sure did kill the moment. I just hopped in the shower for a quick rinse—” and then she stopped, as she must have realized that’s when Jamison had been out of her sight.
“When Joe came to you about your business,” I said to Jamison, “you realized he was desperate, so you agreed to let him distribute your wine if he’d take the necklace. What Joe didn’t know was that you planned to kill Jane and pin the murder on him. You weren’t really after the necklace. Sure, it would be good to have the insurance money. But that was just the setup.”
“How could he have planned it?” said Velma. “He couldn’t have known I’d get in the shower. He didn’t even know he was going to pick me up.” She took another drink of her scotch.
“There’s all kinds of planners, Velma,” I said. “Some make a plan and follow it to the letter. Some are flexible. Jamison didn’t know you and didn’t know he was going to take you upstairs. But he knew himself. He has a track record of chasing skirts. He had to be ready for the possibility he’d have company.”
“But how can you know that, Frank?” she said. “Maybe it was Joe. You said he took the necklace...” Her eyelids were drooping.
“How do I know it was planned? Simple, sweetheart. When Jamison gave Joe the key to his wife’s room, he lifted Joe’s knife. Why would he do that, unless he’d planned to use it?”
Jamison took a folding knife with a horn handle out of his pocket and grinned like the Cheshire cat. Joe’s eyes widened. Jamison unclasped the knife and laid it on the table. It was a wicked-looking sharp blade about four inches long. There was a thin crust of dried blood on the edge that hadn’t been wiped off.
I said, “So Joe went to Jane’s room and took the White Tiger. I came in; he sapped me and left. Jamison got there while I was still out and killed Jane. Velma, you were Jamison’s alibi for the whole time. And Joe was the patsy. He’d been in the room to steal the necklace, and his knife was the murder weapon.”
“You mean if I hadn’t taken a shower, Jane Jamison would still be alive?” said Velma. She started to list over toward Jamison’s shoulder.
“No, Jamison knew his own weakness for women. He had a backup plan. If you hadn’t taken that shower, he would have found another way to get you out of the picture.”