Postmark Murder (31 page)

She lifted the cup, drank and put it down. “There was nothing more I could do. I had telephoned to you. You would bring doctors. But the police would come. The police, the newspapers. If the police asked me questions, if it was in the newspapers, then our enemies would find me. They would find my baby. I ran to my room. I hurried. I cleared out the drawers, everything. I left nothing, I was sure. But then as I left you arrived. I told you to go away—” She leveled her gaze at Laura. “You had my child with you. I told you to go away. I told you I should not have telephoned to you. Why didn’t you go away? We are targets, Jonny and I. They will never stop.”

Matt said, “I promised you protection.”

“All we wanted to do,” Maria Brown said, “was to go away to some safe place, take new names, then get our child and live quietly. Safely.”

Laura’s throat felt tight.

Matt said, “This new claimant, this man who came yesterday, has a passport. His photograph is on it.”

Scorn flickered over Maria Brown’s face. “Passports have been faked. He is not my husband.”

“Who is he then?”

“I told you. He is an enemy. He is from Poland. He wishes to take Jonny and the money back. That would be a coup; that would be a triumph. Yes.”

“But he can’t have the money unless he lives here.”

Again it made no impression upon Maria Brown. Her face was perfectly still.

Matt waited for a moment. Maria Brown waited, too. Finally Matt said, “How long was Conrad away from the house on Koska Street?”

There was a suggestion of surprise in the way Maria Brown’s eyelids lifted. “I am not sure. Perhaps two hours. Perhaps longer.”

“He was in Miss March’s apartment about—ten minutes?” Matt gave Laura a questioning look and she nodded. Matt said, “Allow thirty minutes each way for bus or taxi. Some extra time for finding the way in a strange city. A few minutes for making a phone call—”

“A phone call! He made no phone call.”

“Mrs. Stanley says he called her just before she went to the dentist’s. Her appointment was at four. She says he asked where Jonny was.”

Maria Brown considered it, and gave an abrupt nod. “Yes. Yes, he might have done that. I never thought of it. He must have inquired. He had to know that Jonny was in Miss March’s care. Before he died he only said—your name.” Her dark gaze went to Laura. “Your name—and the word, doctor. That was all. At first I thought he meant to tell me who had stabbed him,” she said simply. “Then I knew he meant that you must bring a doctor.”

Matt said swiftly and very quietly, “I am sure that you would be willing to swear to that—”

“Swear! I will not talk to the police. You promised me—”

“Yes. Yes, but—” Matt paused, thinking rapidly.

It could be construed as an accusation. Laura March, the dying man had said. Chill fingers tightened around Laura’s heart. Matt said calmly, “I only meant that you have no doubt whatever as to his meaning— Get Miss March. Have her bring a doctor.” He went on quickly, as if his legal mind warned him not to stress that dangerous point too heavily. “I’d like to know exactly what your husband did during that time. Two hours or longer. You see it looks as if he must have talked to the murderer
before
the murderer came to Koska Street, doesn’t it?”

Maria Brown considered that, too, and abruptly agreed. “The murderer knew the address. He knew about my husband’s passport. He knew there was a child.”

“So he must have talked to the visitor, the murderer, either in Poland, after he knew your Chicago address, on the boat coming here—or in Chicago. The interview at Koska Street, with the drinks and the questions about the child, must have been, at least, a second interview. The murderer clearly came prepared to ask Conrad questions about his child. That little business of the song is a very convincing detail. What ship did you say your husband took here?”

“I did not say,” Maria Brown said flatly. “I do not know. He said he left from Genoa. He said when the ship reached port he jumped ship.”

“Did he say what port?”

“No,” Maria Brown said flatly. She looked at Matt and added, “I do not think Conrad would have told anybody about his plans except somebody he trusted. Whoever came to see him in his room, whoever murdered him, he trusted that person.”

Matt said thoughtfully, “His murderer knew about his passport. He seized it as an excuse to keep Conrad quiet until he could arrange a murder. That had to happen before the interview at the rooming house. Conrad told you, Laura, where he was staying and he told Doris. He could have told his murderer where he was staying. The murderer came to Koska Street prepared to murder. He could have taken the letter from the orphanage—”

“The man saying he is my husband did that! He is an impostor. He is a murderer. Why do you not believe me?” Maria Brown said heavily. “I tell you he intends to get my child and the money and take them to Poland.” She looked at Laura and said again, “Why do you not believe me?”

Laura had no answer. It was a story which might answer many questions. On the other hand, did that very fact, in a certain way, weaken it? Was it
too
apt a story? Matt said, “I wish you would talk to the police.”

A
BLANK, COLD LIGHT
came into Maria Brown’s eyes. She lifted one hand and brought it down on the table beside her with a hard blow. “I told you I will not do that. You promised me—”

“All right. But think about it. Now—you said you have a passport?”

Again a kind of somber lightning flashed in Maria Brown’s face. “I will not show you my passport. I have it in a safe place. It is very important to me. I will give it to nobody.”

“All right.” Matt appeared to accept it easily again. “Will you tell me where you have been staying?”

“No,” Maria Brown said flatly. “I will not see the police. I will not tell anybody where I stay. I will tell you nothing. You don’t believe that the government party in my home have long, terrible memories. You don’t believe me, either of you.”

“But don’t you understand how easy it would be to make us believe? You could show us your passport. You could show us any papers of identification you have. You can tell us where you are staying. Are you staying with friends?”

Again Maria Brown simply and conclusively did not reply.

Matt said, “Well, then, how about money? Are you supplied with money?”

“Enough,” Maria Brown said.

Matt’s face was hard. “One more question. Are you sure when Conrad spoke to you he did not tell you who killed him?”

“He said only Laura March, that name. Laura March—doctor, that is all he said.”

Matt met Laura’s eyes. He answered the terrified question in her mind. “She had no doubt as to his meaning. And in any event —I’ve got to keep my promise not to turn her over to the police.”

Maria Brown gave Laura an oblique, sliding glance and said nothing. Matt said to Maria Brown, “Later, then—did you telephone to Miss March? I mean before you went to her apartment?”

“Yes, I did,” the woman said flatly. “Once I got myself into a safe place I thought about my child. I was thinking of her all the time, you understand. I had to be sure she was safe. I telephoned to Miss March and she answered but—but then I was afraid to talk. I thought from her voice, it sounded all right, you understand, that no harm had come to Jonny. But I was afraid to talk. I was afraid it would be traced. I was afraid somebody would hear me. I was at one of those pay telephone booths. It was in a public place. I was afraid. I hung up and ran out and I went back to—” she stopped.

“And then you telephoned again?”

“Yes, I did. I told myself this time I would talk to her but again—no, I could not.”

Matt said carefully, “Did you ever speak into the telephone? Did you ever speak Polish, say, into it? Did you ever mention Jonny’s name?”

“No,” Maria Brown said flatly. “No.” She thought for a moment, watching Matt. Then she said, “Somebody did that, is that right? Who was it? Was it the murderer? Was it a man? Was it a woman? Women are trained to this kind of assassination as well as men. Who did that?”

Matt replied, “I don’t know. Somebody telephoned and spoke in Polish. Somebody mentioned Jonny’s name. We don’t know who it was.”

“That should be clear! It is this second man. It is this man calling himself Conrad Stanislowski. He is an impostor. He is a murderer. You’ve got to give me my child.”

Oh, no, Laura thought; not yet! Matt sensed her panic. He came across the room and put one hand on Laura’s shoulder. He said to Maria Brown, “If I assure you that Jonny is safe, will you wait for a few days to see her? She is here, you heard her voice. She is safe.”

“You are trying to trick me.”

“No, I’m not. I’m going to leave you here in my apartment. You are perfectly safe. You can lock the door. Don’t answer any telephone calls. If anybody knocks, don’t open the door. Please think of our position about Jonny. We have to ask you to identify yourself in a way that will satisfy Miss March, the other trustee and Mrs. Stanley. It is our obligation. You understand that. Now —I’m going to leave you here. I want you to think, too, about talking to the police and telling them just what you have told me. But if you wish to leave, if you wish to hide yourself again, you can.”

He looked at Laura. “We’ll get Jonny. I’ll go home with you.”

Laura rose. But at the door Matt turned abruptly back. “There is another question. Did you know a woman by the name of Catherine Miller?”

“No,” Maria Brown said.

“Did you—” Matt hesitated. Then he said, “Did you go to Miss March’s apartment more than once?”

“No,” she said in a flat tone of unequivocal finality. She did not look up. Laura’s last glimpse of Maria Brown showed simply a stolid, silent figure staring at nothing. Matt closed the door of the living room.

“Oh, Matt,” Laura cried, but softly so Maria Brown did not hear. “We should tell the police!”

“I’m doing what I think is right. I’ll get Jonny.”

Laura stood transfixed, listening. There was no sound beyond the closed door to the living room. She heard only Matt in the study speaking to Jonny. “We’ll take the puzzle with us. I’ll put it so the picture you’ve already made won’t break. See, I’ll put it in this box. There—” There was a soft little clatter of the jig-saw puzzle. Presently Matt came out again, Jonny beside him in her red coat, a box clasped under her arm. The door to the living room did not open.

They went down in the elevator. In the taxi Matt talked to Jonny steadily, inventing a story to go with the jig-saw puzzle.

Suppose Maria Brown’s story was true, Laura thought. It explained so much. But it failed to explain so much, too.

When they reached Laura’s apartment Matt first established Jonny in her room, with the jig-saw puzzle. He came back into the living room and stood for a moment, staring absently at the Christmas tree.

“Matt—do you believe her?”

“I don’t know.” He went to the Christmas tree and plugged in the lights. They sprang up, red and green and white, all over the tree, lighting the room with a poignant glow of promise. “Did you believe her?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know. It could have happened like that. And if she is Jonny’s mother—”

“I know. If you believe her, it’s a tragic and terrible story. After all those years of separation and anxiety, she and Conrad had so little time together. No, it’s not nice. On the other hand, is it true? Her manner is so—well, you know, Laura—that flat, toneless voice, that stolid manner, that phlegmatic way of replying. It’s hard to tell whether she’s a tragic and brokenhearted woman, beaten down with tragedy and anxiety—or whether she’s a ruthless and very clever liar. And a murderer.
I
can’t tell.”

“What about the police?”

“I ought to tell them. I’m a lawyer. It’s evidence. And I think Peabody would believe her statement as to Conrad’s intention in speaking only your name and the word doctor. It’s not news to him; you told him why you went to Koska Street; her statement squares with your own. If he’d heard Maria’s statement first, he might have questioned whether Conrad meant it as—an accusation, the name of his murderer, or as he did mean it. But as it stands I think her evidence as to that would be an advantage in the end. I really do think that, Laura. And I think that she’ll decide to see the police. I don’t think I’m taking much of a chance. If she’s really Jonny’s mother, she’s going to stay there in my apartment and after a while she’ll consent to see the police. An alternative is that she is Jonny’s mother but her story is not true; she simply wants to get hold of Jonny and the money, and she murdered Conrad. In that event I think she’ll disappear but turn up again in a few days, because if she’s going to claim Jonny she’s got to come forward with her identification and credentials. I think I made that clear enough to her. The third alternative, of course, is that she’s in a conspiracy with this second Conrad.”

“Why, then, would she answer your personal notice?”

“To establish herself as Jonny’s mother, perhaps,” Matt said rather doubtfully. “I talked to Peabody this morning. He went to see Conrad the second. She says he’s the murderer, so that doesn’t look like a conspiracy between them. On the other hand, thieves do fall out. Much of her story sounds true; that is that the first Conrad knew her address, went to Koska Street, the landlady was gone, nobody was there; she sent him at once to confirm Jonny’s presence— Yes, that sounds human—true. It does seem to me that she ought to know at least whether the mysterious visitor was a man or a woman. Yet certainly anybody planning murder would not shout out to the world the questions he asked Conrad about Jonny. He wouldn’t have known perhaps that the rooming house was entirely deserted except for Maria. Obviously he didn’t know Maria was there; obviously Conrad purposely didn’t tell him. Always provided her story is true,” Matt said with a rather dejected note to his voice. “There are details that were right—the two glasses the police found, and you saw. There was no bottle of any sort of liquor there. The murderer could have taken that away, wiped the glasses so there would not be fingerprints on them. She told me she left her handkerchief—that was the handkerchief that Peabody found. That detail has not been, so far as I know, in the newspapers. And her story makes her telephone call to you and then her escape completely logical. All that sounds true.”