The Collection (103 page)

"Sorry, Jack," I said, and shoved him out of the
way. I gave Dr. Roth's number and added, "Keep ringing till they
answer."

I held the receiver tight against my ear and waited. I
realized I was still holding up the tiny torch of the cigarette lighter and I
snapped it shut. The room snapped again into utter darkness.

"You stay in here," Jack said. "I'm going
out."

"Don't be a fool. He's got a gun."

There was a sharp knock on the door, and we neither of us
moved until the knock came again, louder. Then we heard Professor Winton's
high, nervous voice.

"Brian, was that a shot a minute ago? Are you all
right?"

Jack muttered something under his breath and groped for the
door handle. In the receiver against my ear I could hear Dr. Roth's phone still
ringing. He hadn't answered yet. I put my hand over the mouthpiece.

"I'm all right, Dr. Winton," I called out.

By that time, Jack had found the knob and opened the door.
Light streamed into the room from the hallway outside, and he stepped through
the door quickly and closed it behind him.

"Someone shot through the window, Doctor," I
heard him say, "but everything's under control. We've called the police.
Better get back inside your room, though, till they get here."

Dr. Winton's voice said something, excitedly, but I didn't
hear what, because Jeanette Roth's voice, husky and beautiful, but definitely
sleepy, was saying "Hello," in my ear. I forgot Jack and Winton and
concentrated my attention on the phone.

I talked fast. "This is Brian Carter, Jeanette,"
I said. "Listen, this is important. It's maybe life and death. Just do
what I say and don't argue. First, be sure all the lights in your house are
out, all doors and windows locked tight--bolted, if they've got bolts. Then
don't answer the door, unless you're sure it's the police--or me. I'm coming
over, too, but the police may get there first."

"Brian, what on earth--?”

"Don't argue, darling," I said. "Do those things,
fast. Lights out. Everything locked. And don't answer the door unless it's me
or the police!"

I hung up on her. I knew she'd do it faster that way than
if I stayed on the line.

I groped my way through the dark room and out into the
lighted hallway. The door to Dr. Winton's room, just across from my apartment,
was closed, and there was nobody in the hallway. I ran to the front door and
out onto the porch.

Out front on the sidewalk, Jack Sebastian was turning
around, looking. He had something in his hand. When he turned so light from the
street lamp down on the corner shone on it, I could see that it was a
long-barreled pistol. I ran out to join him.

"From Winton. It's a target pistol, a twenty-two. But
it's better than throwing stones. Look, you sap, get back in there. You got no
business out in the open."

I
told him I was going to Roth's place, and started down the sidewalk at a trot.

"What's the score?" he called after me.
"What makes you think it was that Cole kid and why the excitement about
Roth?"

I saved my breath by not answering him. There'd be plenty
of time for all that later. I could hear him running behind me. We pounded up
the steps onto the porch of Dr. Roth's place.

"It's Brian Carter--and the police!" I called out
while I rang the bell.

Maybe Jack Sebastian wasn't exactly the police, in the
collective sense, but he was a detective, the youngest full-fledged detective
on the force. Anyway, it wasn't the time for nice distinctions. I quit leaning
on the bell and hammered on the door, and then yelled again.

The key turned in the lock and I stepped back. The door
opened on the chain and Jeanette's white face appeared in the crack. She wasn't
taking any chances. Then, when she saw us, she slid back the chain and opened
the door.

"Brian, what--" she began.

"Your father, Jeanette. Is he all right?"

"I--I knocked on his door after you phoned, Brian, and
he didn't answer! The door's locked. Brian, what's
wrong
?"

Murder for a Million!

Out front a car swung into the curb with a squealing of
brakes and two big men got out of it. They came running up the walk toward us
and Jack stepped to the edge of the porch, where light from a street lamp would
fall on his face and identify him to the two men. It also gleamed on the gun
dangling from his hand.

Jeanette swayed against me and I put my arm around her
shoulders. She was trembling.

"Maybe everything's okay, Jeanette," I said.
"Maybe your father's just sleeping soundly. Anyway, these are the police
coming now, so
you're
safe."

I heard Jack talking to the two detectives who'd come in
the squad car, and then one of them started around the house, on the outside,
using a flashlight. Jack and the other one joined us in the doorway.

"Let's go," Jack said. "Where's your
father's room, Miss Roth?"

"Just a second, Jack," I said. I snapped on the
hall lights and then went into the library and turned on the lights there and
looked around to be sure nobody was there.

"You wait in here, Jeanette," I said then.
"We'll go up and try your father's door again, and if he still doesn't
answer, we'll have to break--"

Footsteps pounded across the porch again and the other
detective, the one who'd started around the house, stood in the doorway.

"There's a ladder up the side of the house to a window
on the second floor--northwest corner room," he said. "Nobody around
unless he's upstairs, in there. Shall I go up the ladder, Sebastian?"

Jack looked at me, and I knew that he and I were thinking
the same thing. The killer had come here first, and there wasn't any hurry now.

"I'll go up the ladder," he said. "We won't
have to break the door now. Will you two guys search the house from attic to
cellar and turn all the lights on and leave them on? And, Brian, you stay here
with Miss Roth. Can I borrow your flashlight, Wheeler?"

I noticed that, by tacit consent, Jack was taking charge of
the case and of the older detectives. Because, I presumed, he was the first one
on the scene and had a better idea what it was all about.

One of the men handed over a flashlight and Jack went outside.
I led Jeanette into the library.

"Brian," she asked, "do you think Dad
is--that something has happened to Dad?"

"We'll
know for sure in a minute, darling. Why make guesses meanwhile? I don't know."

But--what
happened that made you call me up?"

"Jack
and I were playing chess at my place," I told her. "Someone took a
shot through the window. At me, not at Jack. The bullet went into the wall
behind me and just over my head. I-- well, I had a sudden hunch who might have
shot at me, and if my hunch was right, I thought he'd consider your father his
enemy, too. I'm afraid he may be--mad."

"Alister
Cole?"

"Have
you noticed anything strange about him?" I asked her.

"Yes.
He's always scared me, Brian, the way he's acted. And just last night, Dad
remarked that--"

She
broke off, standing there rigidly. Footsteps were coming down the stairs. That
would be Jack, of course. And the fact that he walked so slowly gave us the
news in advance of his coming.

Anyway,
when he stood in the doorway, Jeanette asked quietly, "Is he dead?"
and Jack nodded.

Jeanette
sat down on the sofa behind her and dropped her head into her hands, but she
didn't cry.

"I'll
phone headquarters," Jack said. "But first--you and he were alone in
the house tonight, weren't you, Miss Roth?"

She
looked up and her eyes were still dry. "Yes"
she said.
"Mother's staying overnight with my aunt--her sister--in town. This is
going to hit her hard. Will you need me here? I--I think it would be best if I
were the one to break it to her. I can dress and be there in half an hour. I
can be back in an hour and a half. Will it be all right?"

Jack
looked at me. "What do you think, Brian? You know this guy Cole and you
know what this is all about. Would Miss Roth be in any danger if she
left?"

"You
could figure that yourself, Jack," I said. "Cole was here, alone in
the house with her after he killed Dr. Roth, and he had all the time in the
world because there hadn't been an alarm yet. But let me go with her, though,
just to be sure."

He
snorted. "Just to be sure--of
what?
He
is
after you, my fine
friend. Until we get Cole under lock and key--and throw away the key--you're
not getting out from under my eye."

"All
right," I said, "so I'm indispensable. But everybody isn't, and this
place will be full of police in a few minutes. If I'm not mistaken, that sounds
like another squad car coming now. Why not have one of the boys in it use it to
drive Miss Roth over to her aunt's?"

He
nodded. "Okay, Miss Roth. I'll stick my neck out--even though Headquarters
may cut it off. And Wheeler and Brach have finished looking around upstairs, so
it'll be okay for you to go to your room if you want to change that housecoat
for a dress."

He
went to the front door to let the new arrivals in.

"I'm
awfully sorry, Jeanette," I said then. "I know that sounds
meaningless, but-- it's all I can think of to say."

She
managed a faint smile. "You're a good egg, Brian. I'll be seeing
you."

She
held out her hand, and I took it. Then she ran up the stairs. Jack looked in at
the doorway.

"I
told the new arrivals to search the grounds," he said. "Not that
they'll find anything, but it'll give 'em something to do. I got to phone
Headquarters. You stay right here."

"Just
a second, Jack," I said. "How was he killed?"

"A
knife. Messy job. It was a psycho, all right."

"You
say messy? Is there any chance Jeanette might go into-- ?"

He
shook his head. "Wheeler's watching that door. He wouldn't let her go in.
Well, I got to phone--"

"Listen,
Jack. Tell me one thing. How long, about, has he been dead? I mean, is there
any chance Cole could have come here after he shot at me? I might have thought
of phoning here, or getting here a minute or two sooner. I'd feel responsible
if my slowness in reacting, my dumbness--"

Jack
was shaking his head. "I'm no M.E.," he said, "but Roth
had been dead more than a few minutes when I found him. I'd
say at least half an hour, maybe an hour."

He went to the phone and gave the Headquarters number. I
heard his voice droning on, giving them the details of the murder and the
attempted murder.

I sat there listening, with my eyes closed, taking in every
word of it, but carefully keeping the elation off my face. It had gone
perfectly. Everything had worked out. Whether or not they caught Alister
Cole--and they
would
catch him-- nothing could go wrong now. It had come
off perfectly.

I would never be suspected, and I stood to gain a million
dollars--and Jeanette. . . .

She came down the stairs slowly, as one approaching a reluctant
errand. I waited for her at the foot of the staircase, my eyes on her beautiful
face. There was shock there, but--as I had expected and was glad to see--not
too much grief. Roth had been a cold, austere man. Not a man to be grieved for
deeply, or long. She stopped on the second step, her eyes level with mine and
only inches away. I wanted to kiss her, but this was not the time. A little
while and I would, I thought.

But I could look now, and I could dream. I could imagine my
hand stroking that soft blonde hair. I could imagine those soft, misty blue
eyes closed and my lips kissing the lids of them, kissing that soft white
throat, her yielding lips. Then--

My hand was on the newel post and she put hers over it. It
almost seemed to burn.

"I wish I could go with you, darling," I said.
"I wish there was something I could do to help you."

"I wish you could come with me too, Brian. But--your
friend's right. And didn't you take an awful chance coming over here
anyway--out in the open, with a madman out to kill you?"

"Jack was with me," I said.

Jack was calling to me from the library.
"Coming," I said, and then I told Jeanette, "It's cool out,
darling. Put a coat on over that thin dress."

She nodded absently. "I wish you could come with me,
Brian. Mother likes you--"

I knew what she meant, what she was thinking. That things
were going to be all right between us now. Her mother did like me. It was her
stuffy, snobbish father who had stood in the way. Jack called again
impatiently.

"Take care of yourself, Brian," Jeanette
whispered quickly. "Don't take any chances, please."

She pressed my hand, then ran past me toward the coat
closet. I saw that one of the detectives was waiting for her at the door. I
went into the library. Jack was still sitting at the telephone table, jotting
things into a notebook. He looked very intent and businesslike.

"Captain Murdock--he's head of Homicide--is on his way
here," Jack said. "He'll be in charge of the case. That's why I
wanted you to let the girl get out of here first. He might insist on her
staying."