Westlake, Donald E - Novel 41 (21 page)

 
          
 
"She took his death hard?"

 
          
 
"She was out of school for a week,
inconsolable. She spent the time at her grandmother's, I understand. The
grandmother caters to her, of course. I believe her mother had a doctor in
twice."

 
          
 
"Yes, her mother." Levine didn't
know what to do with his hands. He clasped them in front of him. "How do
Amy and her mother get along?"

 
          
 
"Normally,
so
far as I know. There's never been any sign of discord between them that I've
seen." She smiled again. "But my contact with Amy is limited to
school hours, of course."

 
          
 
"You think there is discord?"

 
          
 
"No, not at ail. I didn't mean to imply
that.
Just that I couldn't give you an expert answer to the
question."

 
          
 
Levine nodded. "You're right. Is Amy a
very imaginative child?"

 
          
 
"She's very self-sufficient in play, if
that's what you mean."

 
          
 
"I was thinking about
story-telling."

 
          
 
"Oh, a liar."
She shook her head. "No, Amy isn't the tall tale type.
A
very practical little girl, really.
Very dependable
judgment.
As I say, she's the one I left in charge of the class."

 
          
 
"She wouldn't be likely to come to us
with a wild story she'd made up all by herself."

 
          
 
"Not at all.
If
Amy told you about something, it's almost certainly the truth."

 
          
 
Levine sighed. "Thank you," he said.
"Thank you very much."

 
          
 
Miss Haskell rose to her feet. "Could you
tell me what this wild story was? I might be able to help."

 
          
 
"I'd rather not," he said. "Not
until we're sure, one way or the other."

           
 
If I can be of any
assistance
"

 
          
 
"Thank you," he said again. "You've
gdready helped."

 
          
 
Back at the station, Levine entered the
squadroom and hung up his coat.
Crawley
looked over from his desk and said, "You have all the luck, Abe. You
missed the whirlwind."

 
          
 
"Whirlwind?"

 
          
 
"Amy's mama was here. Dr. Sheffield
called her about you checking up on her husband's death, and just before she
came over here she got a call from somebody at Lathmore Elementary, saying
there was a cop there asking questions about her daughter. She didn't like us
casting 2isi>ersions on her family."

 
          
 
"Aspersions?"

 
          
 
"That's what she said."
Crawley
grinned. "You're litde Sir Echo this
morning, aren't you?"

 
          
 
"I need a cigarette. What did the
Lieutenant say?"

 
          
 
"She didn't talk to him. She talked to
me."

 
          
 
"No, when you told him about the litde
girl's report."

 
          
 
"Oh. He said to take two days on it, and
then let him know how it looked."

 
          
 
"Fine.
How about Thornbridge?"

 
          
 
"Accidental death.
Inquest said so. No question in anybody's mind. He went swimming too soon after
lunch, got a stomach cramp, and drowned. What's the word on the litde
girl?"

 
          
 
"Her teacher says she's reliable.
Practical and realistic.
If she tells us something, it's
so."

 
          
 
Crawley
grimaced. "That isn't what I wanted to hear, Abe."

 
          
 
"It didn't overjoy me, either."
Levine sat down at his desk. "What did the mother have to say?"

 
          
 
"I had to spill it, Abe.
About what her daughter reported."

 
          
 
"That's all right," he said.
"Now we've got no choice. We've got to follow though. What was her
reaction?"

 
          
 
"She didn't believe it."

           
 
Levine shrugged. "She had to, after she
thought about it."

 
          
 
"Sure," said
Crawley
. "Then she was baffled. She didn't
know why Amy would say such a thing."

 
          
 
"Was she home when her husband
died?"

 
          
 
"She says no."
Crawley
flipped
open
a
memo pad. "Somebody had to be with him all the time, but he didn't want a
professional nurse. So when Amy came home from school that afternoon, the
mother went to the supermarket. Her husband was alive when she left, and dead
when she got back. Or so she says."

 
          
 
"She says Amy was the one who found him
dead?"

 
          
 
"No. Amy was watching television. When
the mother came home, she found him, and called the doctor."

 
          
 
"What about noises?"

 
          
 
"She didn't hear any, and doesn't have
any idea what Amy means."

 
          
 
Levine sighed. "All right," he said.
"We've got one timetable discrepancy. Amy says her mother was home and
made a loud noise. The mother says she was out to the supermarket." His
fingers strayed to his cigarette pocket,
then
went on
to scratch his shoulder instead. "What do you think of the
mother.
Jack?"

 
          
 
"She's tough. She was mad, and she's used
to having things her own way. I can't see her playing nursemaid. But she sure
seemed baffled about why the kid would make such an accusation."

 
          
 
"I'll have to talk to Amy again,"
said Levine. "Once we've got both stories, we can see which one breaks
down."

 
          
 
Crawley
said, "I wonder if she'll try to shut the kid's mouth?"

 
          
 
"Let's not think about that yet. We've
still got aW day." He reached for the phone book and looked up the number
of Lathmore Elementary.

 
          
 
Levine talked to the girl in Mrs. Pidgeon's
office at
eleven o'clock
.
At his request, they were left alone.

 
          
 
Amy was dressed as neatly as she had been
yesterday, and seemed just as composed. Levine explained to her what had been
done so far on the investigation, and that her mother had been told why the
investigation was taking place. "I'm
sorry,
Amy," he said, "but we didn't have any choice. Your mother had to
know."

 
          
 
Amy
considered,
solemn gmd formal. "I think it will be all right," she said.
"She wouldn't dare try to hurt me now, with you investigating. It would be
too obvious. My mother is very subtle, Mr. Levine."

 
          
 
Levine smiled, in spite of himself. "You
have quite a vocabulary," he told her.

 
          
 
"I'm a very heavy reader," she
explained.
"Though it's difficult for me to get
interesting books from the library.
Fm too young, so I
have to take books from the children's section."
She smiled thinly.
"I'll tell you a secret," she said. "I steal the ones I W2uit to
read, and then bring them back when I'm finished with them."

 
          
 
In a hurry, he thought, smiling, and
remembered the baby next door. "I want to talk to you," he said,
"about the day when your father died. Your mother said she went out to the
store, and when she came back he was dead. What do you say?"

 
          
 
"Nonsense," she said, promptly.
"I was the one who went out to the store. The minute I came home from
school, she sent mc out to the supermarket. But I came back too soon for
her."

 
          
 
"Why?"

 
          
 
"Just as I was coming down the hall from
the elevator, I heard a great clang sound from our apartment. Then it came |
again as I was opening the door. I went through the living room and saw my mother
coming out of my stepfather's room. She was smiling. But then she saw me and
suddenly looked terribly upset and told me something awful had happened, and
she ran to the telephone to call Dr. Sheffield. She acted terribly agitated,
and carried on just as though she really meant it. She fooled Dr. Sheffield
completely."

           
 
"Why did you wait so long before corning
to us?"

 
          
 
"I didn't know what to do." The
solemn formality cracked all at once, and she was only a child after all,
uncertain in an adult world. "I didn't think anyone would believe me, and
I was afraid if Mother suspected what I knew, she might try to do something to
me. But Monday in Civics Miss Haskell was talking about the duties of the
different parts of government, firemen and policemen and everybody, and she
said the duty of the police was to investigate crimes and see the guilty were
punished. So yesterday I came and told you, because it didn't matter if you
didn't believe me, you'd have to do your duty and investigate anyway."

 
          
 
Levine sighed. "All right," he said.
"We're doing it. But we need more than just your
word,
you understand that, don't you? We need proof of some kind."

 
          
 
She nodded, serious and formal again.

 
          
 
"What store did you go to that day?"
he asked her.

 
          
 
"A supermarket.
The big one on
Seventh Avenue
."

 
          
 
"Do you know any of the clerks there?
Would they recognize you?"

 
          
 
"I don't think so. It's a great big
supermarket. I don't think they know any of their customers at all."

 
          
 
"Did you see anyone at all on your trip
to the store or back, who would remember that it was you who went to the store
and not your mother, and that it was that particular day?"

 
          
 
She considered, touching one finger to her
lips as she concentrated, and finally shook her head. "I don't think so. I
don't know any of the people in the neighborhood. Most of the people I know are
my parents' friends or kids from school, and they live all over, not just
around here."