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“
I
didn’t get your complete statement last night, Mr. Breen,”
Lieutenant Batterman said. “We’d like it now if you’re
strong enough.”

That
room hadn’t been constructed to hold five over-sized men,
including myself, and I talked against a solid semicircle of bodies.
But they weren’t hostile bodies. For the first time since
Monday I had a feeling that cops weren’t necessarily boogeymen.

When
I finished, Lieutenant Batterman nodded approvingly. “You’ve
been very cooperative. But there’s one thing we’re not
sure of.”

“
The
bag?” I said. It always came back to that.

“
That’s
another thing, but not as important just now. An hour ago we found
both bodies by looking for a spot which had recently been dug up.
There was, of course, no trouble identifying George Moon, and from
your description we know that the other one is Larry Goodby. Milton
Curry confessed that he shot Goodby. We had him cold; he knew that
slug in Goodby’s head will match his rifle. He claims he shot
Goodby in self-defense.”

“
That’s
not the way it was,” I said.

“
We
know it wasn’t. You and Miss Crane made separate statements and
they agree in every detail. But what about Moon?”

“
I
told you I found him dead in the bathroom.”

“
Tilly
claims you stuck the knife in George Moon. Her story now is that they
put you and Miss Crane in the reservoir to make you confess.”

I
said: “If she was sure I’d killed Moon, why did she want
to make me confess? To turn me over to the police?”

Their
faces showed that they liked what I said. They were the faces of
pals, guardians of the law who were being paid to protect men like me
from criminal gangs. It was pleasant to be invited by the police back
into the family of respectable citizens.

Scavuzzo
spoke for the first time since he’d said hello to me. “They’re
not kidding anybody. They were after the bag,”

“
What
do they say about it?” I asked.

“
They’re
not saying any more than they have to,” Batterman told me. “But
they will. We’ve got every one of them on plenty of charges
already. Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Breen.”

I
gave them time to disperse outside and then stuck my head out of the
room. No nurse was in sight. I padded up the short hall to the small,
square lobby. An old, old woman knitting a glove sat behind a
bleached oak desk. Her gnarled hands made the intricate arrangement
of needles flash as she listened benignly to Detective Scavuzzo. His
hat was in one hand and his cigar in another and he punctuated a
sentence with a low, nasal laugh. He was probably quite a card with
old women.

The
solidity of his bulk so near the exit brought back to me the choking
feeling of being hunted.

I
went up to him. “Are you waiting for me?”

He
lifted his head. “You want to ride back with me? A cab’s
picking me up to drive me to the train.”

“
Didn’t
you come to Badmont to arrest me?”

He
put his hat on his head and his cigar into his beefy face and nodded
toward a bench. Together we walked the few steps to it, but we didn’t
sit down. “You going to make us extradite you because you’re
in another state?”

“
As
soon as they let me out I’m heading for Brooklyn.”

Scavuzzo
beamed suddenly and thumped my arm. “I was just kidding about
extraditing you. Stop worrying, Mr. Breen, We know you haven’t
got the bag — not if you didn’t open your face when they
put you in the reservoir. And if you haven’t got the bag, you
didn’t kill Vital. Besides, Mawrey told me your story about
Larry Goodby taking you for a ride was on the level, so that’s
another reason we don’t think you killed Vital. Maybe if there
were a couple of things you told us that didn’t stand up in
cross-checking we’d get tough. But it all does, Mr. Breen, it
does”

“
What
about Lieutenant Batterman?” I asked.

“
He’s
satisfied. When he wants you for a witness, he’ll send for you.
The same goes for us.” He looked at his watch. “That cab
should be here.”

I
turned to the phone booth in a corner and then back to Scavuzzo.
“Would you mind lending me a nickel?”

“
Sure
thing. You want to call the missus, eh?” He dug change out of
his pocket. “You’ll need more than a nickel.”

“
I
just want to get the operator, then I’ll reverse charges.
Thanks.”

I
felt myself tighten up as I folded my legs into the booth. Then I
heard the operator ask Esther if she would accept the reversed
charges and I couldn’t wait and blurted: “Esther!”

“
Adam!
Oh, darling!” And at the other end of the wire Esther began to
sob.

The
operator discreetly retired. I said: “Didn’t somebody
call you to tell you I was all right?”

“
Yes,
a newspaper reporter. A Miss Crane who had visited me just before you
— you disappeared.” Her voice cracked. She strove to
control it. “Miss Crane tried to reassure me but why didn’t
you call yourself? I couldn’t believe that you weren’t at
least terribly injured.”

“
I
was sleeping.”

“
How
are you, darling?”

“
I’m
fine. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“
But
what — “ Esther’s voice shifted from the
mouthpiece. I heard her say: “Yes, yes, it’s Papa. Of
course . . . Darling, Carol wants to speak to you.”

Then
there was Carol’s voice, shrill and excited. “Papa, what
happened? Where are you, Papa?”

I
couldn’t speak. I gulped and forced words out. “How are
you, sweetheart?”

“
Papa,
where are you?”

“
I
was away on business. I’ll be right home.”

“
Papa,
I missed you.”

“
Yes,
sweetheart,” I said thickly.

Esther
came back on the wire. “Darling, listen, I found it.”

“
It?”

“
The
bag.”

I
had left the booth door open a few inches for air. Now I closed it. I
stared at the phone.

“
Adam,
are you there?” Esther said.

“
Where
did you find it?”

“
In
the garage.”

“
The
garage?”

“
You
didn’t put it there, Adam?”

I
said wearily: “You think I did?”

“
No.
Oh, I didn’t know. I was so frightened and worried and
confused.”

“
Did
you get in touch with the police about it?”

“
I
couldn’t,” she said slowly. “I was afraid that —
that . . .”

“
That
I’d hidden it there and that you’d give me away?”

“
Darling,
please don’t talk like that I told you how confused I was. I
thought I should look inside first. I couldn’t open the lock,
so I cut the bag.”

“
Don’t
let that worry you,” I said. “The police will
understand.”

“
But,
darling, there’s nothing in the bag.”

“
It’s
empty?”

“
I
mean there’s nothing valuable. Just a bunch of old tools.”

“
Oh,”
I said.

There
was a brittle silence. Then Esther said: “Don’t you see
what the police will think? They’ll think you took out whatever
was in it and put some old tools in to give it weight. Oh, darling,
I’m so — “

I
laughed. “It’s all right, baby. You can stop thinking
that I stole what was in the bag.”

“
I
don’t. Please don’t think I do.”

“
Stop
worrying. There never was anything else in the bag.”

“
But,
darling — “

“
I
said it’s all right. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“
Hurry!”

I
hung up and left the booth. The old, old woman in white looked up
from her knitting.

“
Which
room is Molly Crane in?” I asked.

“
Molly
Crane?” She chewed on the name and came to a decision, “She’s
that very pretty girl. She left an hour ago. No, more than an hour.
At least an hour and a half.”

“
Did
she leave a message for me?”

“
You’re
Mr. Breen, aren’t you? Room Six.” She peered at an
absolutely blank pad on the desk. “There is no message.”

By
a matter of seconds I beat my nurse and Dr. Cadmar into my room. The
doctor looked me over and wanted to know what a healthy man was doing
in a hospital. I said the same thing was bothering me. The nurse
brought in my clothes neatly pressed and the contents of the pockets
in an envelope, and a bill from the hospital. I threw on my clothes
and paid the bill and headed for home.

They
heard me unlock the door and they ran out into the hall from the
kitchen. I gathered Carol up with one arm and threw my other arm
about Esther. Carol’s mouth was on my cheek as I dipped my head
to kiss Esther. I was home.

CHAPTER
TWENTY

“
Papa,
where were you?” Carol said. “Why were you gone so long?”

“
I
was away on business, sweetheart.”

I
set Carol down and put both hands on Esther’s hips. She looked
as if a vampire had been feeding on her. With a sob, she pushed
herself hard against me and I . . .

“
Papa,
Allen Gillette said the police are going to arrest you.” Carol
tugged at my sleeve. “Allen’s a big liar, isn’t he,
Papa?” She hopped on one foot. “The police aren’t
going to arrest you, are they? Huh, Papa?”

“
Nobody
wants to arrest me,” Without moving my body from Esther’s,
I fished a handful of change out of my pocket. “I meant to
bring you a present, Carol, but I didn’t have time. Here’s
some money. Go to the candy store and buy yourself something.”

“
All
for me?” Avidly she counted the money. “A dollar and
forty three cents! Can I buy ice cream, Mommy?”

Esther
lifted her head from my chest. “It’s too near supper,
dear. Buy a toy.”

“
Let
her buy ice cream,” I said, “Buy anything you want,
Carol.”

“
Gee,
Papa!” Skinny legs flashed, the door slammed, and Carol was
gone.

I
chuckled. “I don’t think I’d want her out of my
sight so soon. As long as it isn’t for more than a very little
while.” I looked down at Esther. “Was it tough while I
was gone, baby?”

“
Oh,
darling, why didn’t you at least phone me? You can’t
imagine what I went through.”

I
led her into the living room and sat on the club chair and pulled her
down on my lap. She cuddled on me as soft and cozy as a kitten. I
told her about those three days. Not quite everything. I skimmed over
the worst of it, especially in the holes, and I didn’t stress
Molly Crane. The way I told it, Molly was a newspaper reporter who
had no interest except in an exclusive story, and she had been
something of a nuisance to me.

“
And
all the time the bag was in the cabinet in the garage,” I said.
“If I had known, we could have been spared everything that
happened after1 Monday night.”

Esther’s
head twisted on my arm. “How did you know it was in the
cabinet? I didn’t tell you.”

“
Where
else could it have been in the garage?”

“
Who
put it there?” she said thinly.

“
Jasper
Vital just before he was murdered.” I stroked her hair. “You
can stop suspecting me, baby,”

“
I
didn’t . . .” She paused and then said weakly: “I
was so confused. Everybody was so sure you had the bag and when I
found it hidden in the garage cabinet and nothing in it but a bunch
of tools and other things you’d have in your business.

“
How
did you find it?” I asked. “Early this morning Allen
Gillette asked to borrow your tire pump to pump up his football. I
told him it was in the garage, but he couldn’t find it. I went
back with him and looked in the cabinet. You know, how it’s
crammed with old tubes and rags and tire chains and everything else
you stuff into it. I dug down and found the pump. I also found the
bag on the bottom in a corner.”

“
Where
is it now?”

She
got ofl my lap and we went out to the hall. The bag sat deep in the
hall closet. She had unbuckled the two leather straps and had slit
the bag lengthwise near the lock. I lifted it by the bottom and
carried it into the living room and set it on the table. I pulled the
slit apart and started to take out the contents.

“
That’s
it, of course,” I said. “Adam, do you mean that those
things are valuable?”

“
More
valuable than if the bag had been filled with gold. To them, anyway.”

I
explained the stuff to her. There were tools for removing serial and
motor and license numbers and dies for impressing new numbers on
motor blocks and car frames and license plates. There were numbering
machines like those used by Motor Vehicle Bureaus and special inks
and blank bills of sale and registration blanks from at least a dozen
states.