police have ballistic evidence.”
“And they suspect Nick? Fifteen years ago he was only eight.”
“I pointed that out to Captain Lackland.”
Truttwell turned on me in surprise. “You’ve already discussed this with him?”
“Not in the sense that I answered his questions. He’s the source for most of my information about that earlier killing.”
“How did it come up between you?” Truttwell said.
“Lackland brought it up. I mentioned it just now because I thought I should.”
“I see.” Truttwell’s manner to me was smooth and neutral. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss this in private with Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers.”
I waited outside in my car. It was a bright January day, with enough wind to put an edge on its sparkle. But the weight of what had happened in the house, and what had been said, lay heavily on my mind. I was afraid the Chalmerses were going to fire me off the case. It wasn’t an easy case, but after a day and a night with the people involved in it, I wanted to finish it.
Truttwell came out eventually and got into the front seat of my car. “They asked me to dismiss you. I talked them out of it.”
“I don’t know if I should thank you.”
“Neither do I. They’re not easy people to deal with. They had to be convinced you weren’t playing footsie with Lackland.”
He meant it as a question, which I answered: “I wasn’t. I do have to cooperate with him, though. He’s been on this case for fifteen years. I’ve been on it less than one day.”
“Did he specifically accuse Nick of anything?”
“Not quite. He mentioned that a child could fire a gun.”
Truttwell’s eyes grew small and bright, like little pellets of ice. “Do you think that really happened?”
“Lackland seems to be playing with the idea. Unfortunately, he has a dead man to back him up.”
“Do you know who the dead man was?”
“It isn’t definitely established. It may have been a wanted man named Eldon Swain.”
“Wanted for what?”
“Embezzlement. There’s one other thing which I hate to mention but I have to.” I paused. I really did hate to mention it. “Before I brought Nick in yesterday he made a sort of confession to a shooting. His confession fits the old shooting, the Swain shooting, better than the shooting of Harrow. Actually he may have been confessing both at once.”
Truttwell rapped his fists together several times. “We have to get him back before he talks his life away.”
“Is Betty at home?”
Her father glanced sharply at me. “You are not going to use her as a decoy, or a bird dog.”
“Or a woman? She is one.”
“Before everything else she’s my daughter.” It was one of Truttwell’s more self-revealing statements. “She’s not getting mixed up in a murder case.”
I didn’t bother reminding him that she already was. “Does Nick have any other friends I could talk to?”
“I doubt it. He’s always been pretty much of a loner. Which was one of my objections—” Truttwell cut himself short. “Dr. Smitheram may be your best bet, if you can get him to talk. I’ve been trying to for fifteen years.” He added dryly: “He and I suffer from professional incompatibility, I’m afraid.”
“When you say fifteen years—?”
Truttwell answered my half-finished question: “I remember that something did happen involving Nick when he was in second or third grade. One day he didn’t come home from school. His mother phoned me and asked me what to do. I gave her some standard advice. Whether or not she followed it I still don’t know. But the boy was home the following day.And Smitheram’s been treating him off and on ever since. Not too successfully, I might add.”
“Did Mrs. Chalmers give you any idea of what happened?”
“Nick either ran away or was abducted, I think the latter. And I think—” Truttwell wrinkled his nose as if at a bad smell—“sex was involved.”
“So you said yesterday. What kind of
“And they suspect Nick? Fifteen years ago he was only eight.”
“I pointed that out to Captain Lackland.”
Truttwell turned on me in surprise. “You’ve already discussed this with him?”
“Not in the sense that I answered his questions. He’s the source for most of my information about that earlier killing.”
“How did it come up between you?” Truttwell said.
“Lackland brought it up. I mentioned it just now because I thought I should.”
“I see.” Truttwell’s manner to me was smooth and neutral. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss this in private with Mr. and Mrs. Chalmers.”
I waited outside in my car. It was a bright January day, with enough wind to put an edge on its sparkle. But the weight of what had happened in the house, and what had been said, lay heavily on my mind. I was afraid the Chalmerses were going to fire me off the case. It wasn’t an easy case, but after a day and a night with the people involved in it, I wanted to finish it.
Truttwell came out eventually and got into the front seat of my car. “They asked me to dismiss you. I talked them out of it.”
“I don’t know if I should thank you.”
“Neither do I. They’re not easy people to deal with. They had to be convinced you weren’t playing footsie with Lackland.”
He meant it as a question, which I answered: “I wasn’t. I do have to cooperate with him, though. He’s been on this case for fifteen years. I’ve been on it less than one day.”
“Did he specifically accuse Nick of anything?”
“Not quite. He mentioned that a child could fire a gun.”
Truttwell’s eyes grew small and bright, like little pellets of ice. “Do you think that really happened?”
“Lackland seems to be playing with the idea. Unfortunately, he has a dead man to back him up.”
“Do you know who the dead man was?”
“It isn’t definitely established. It may have been a wanted man named Eldon Swain.”
“Wanted for what?”
“Embezzlement. There’s one other thing which I hate to mention but I have to.” I paused. I really did hate to mention it. “Before I brought Nick in yesterday he made a sort of confession to a shooting. His confession fits the old shooting, the Swain shooting, better than the shooting of Harrow. Actually he may have been confessing both at once.”
Truttwell rapped his fists together several times. “We have to get him back before he talks his life away.”
“Is Betty at home?”
Her father glanced sharply at me. “You are not going to use her as a decoy, or a bird dog.”
“Or a woman? She is one.”
“Before everything else she’s my daughter.” It was one of Truttwell’s more self-revealing statements. “She’s not getting mixed up in a murder case.”
I didn’t bother reminding him that she already was. “Does Nick have any other friends I could talk to?”
“I doubt it. He’s always been pretty much of a loner. Which was one of my objections—” Truttwell cut himself short. “Dr. Smitheram may be your best bet, if you can get him to talk. I’ve been trying to for fifteen years.” He added dryly: “He and I suffer from professional incompatibility, I’m afraid.”
“When you say fifteen years—?”
Truttwell answered my half-finished question: “I remember that something did happen involving Nick when he was in second or third grade. One day he didn’t come home from school. His mother phoned me and asked me what to do. I gave her some standard advice. Whether or not she followed it I still don’t know. But the boy was home the following day.And Smitheram’s been treating him off and on ever since. Not too successfully, I might add.”
“Did Mrs. Chalmers give you any idea of what happened?”
“Nick either ran away or was abducted, I think the latter. And I think—” Truttwell wrinkled his nose as if at a bad smell—“sex was involved.”
“So you said yesterday. What kind of
Similar Books
