The Kissed Corpse by Brett Halliday Page B

hacienda, ” I reminded him. “It could have been the unknown Senor Rodriguez.”
    Burke was refilling his pipe, an expression of intense concentration on his face.
    â€œI’m going to build up a hypothetical case and I want you to tear it to pieces if you can. It’s evident that Dwight’s daughter is more or less in her father’s confidence. Suppose she was aware that Rufus Hardiman isn’t simply vacationing here … that her father has brought pressure to bear in the right places in Washington and has persuaded the State Department to abandon their hands-off policy in regard to oil payments … that Hardiman is here in his official capacity to present a note demanding payment for expropriated property to an accredited representative of the Mexican Government … one Senor Rodriguez, shall we say? Secrecy is necessary because the demand for payment is being made only on Dwight’s behalf … leaving the rest of the owners of seized property to hold the bag … so they arrange to meet secretly at the Hacienda del Torro .…”
    â€œAided and abetted by Michaela O’Toole?” I scoffed. “She’s on the other side of the fence, Jerry. She would be doing her best to prevent such a meeting.”
    â€œExactly.” Burke’s eyes were shining. “Through some hold on Rodriguez she plans to be present and stop it if she can. Needing help and knowing Leslie Young by reputation to hold views similar to hers, mightn’t she invite him to join the conference? It would explain her rather strangely-phrased note. Young, not knowing what it’s all about, might mention the note to Desta Dwight who would immediately realize the importance of keeping him away from the hacienda . She tries a telephone message … then an automatic. Remember, there is well over a hundred million dollars involved. Enough motive for a million murders.”
    I was hanging on the ropes by that time, too confused by Burke’s relentless logic to offer a single objection. Also, I suppose I was ready to grab at any straw that pointed away from Laura Yates. I said:
    â€œYou make it sound swell. All we need is to prove a few of those hunches.”
    â€œWe’ll start right now,” he said as Raymond Dwight came back into the drawing room followed by a servant with a tray of glasses, whiskey, and a siphon.
    When the man had set the tray down and withdrawn, Dwight mixed whiskey and soda in three glasses and gave us each one.
    â€œI sent Mrs. Young home in my car to pack a bag and return,” he said casually. “It is naturally a strain on her to stay alone in that house with its unpleasant memories, so I’ve invited her to remain here as my house-guest for as long as she wishes.”
    Personally, I thought they had their nerve … with Myra’s husband not buried yet, but I guess a few million dollars make a man contemptuous of the conventions. Burke nodded as though it was a perfectly natural development, and said:
    â€œThere are several points you can clear up for me, Mr. Dwight.”
    The financier settled himself with his glass. “I’m happy to cooperate, Burke. Though I don’t see what possible help I can give you.”
    â€œDid you know Leslie Young had been invited to be present at the Hacienda del Torro last night?”
    Dwight showed surprise at the question. “Indeed?” He glanced coldly at me. “I suppose that explains your attempt to impersonate him.”
    â€œA point which may have a direct bearing on his murder is that he was warned by telephone at noon yesterday by an anonymous person not to keep the appointment. I want to know who might have been interested in keeping him away.”
    Raymond Dwight’s face remained impassive as he realized the turn Burke’s questioning was taking.
    â€œI’m sure I can’t help you there,” he said stiffly. Then: “Who invited him to the