think
she
killed those men and then tried to kill herself?”
I said, “She could have shot Milo, but I can’t see her breaking Samuels’ neck.”
“She could if she knew just how to push or snap or whatever you do when you break a neck,” Ingrid said. “He was unconscious, wasn’t he?”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. I slowed my waltzing down.
Ingrid said, “Only you told me that she was engaged to this Milo and he was trying to help her. It doesn’t make sense for her to have killed him.”
I said, “It doesn’t make sense for anyone to have killed him—except me. That’s the way Colton will think. Milo and I had a fight, remember.”
Ingrid wasn’t listening. She was frowning harder. She said, “She isn’t reacting at all, Larry. And she should. She wasn’t awfully far under when I got here.”
I stopped jiggling Annette. I put her on the bed. I was sweating hard. I looked down at her slack, pale features as I drew the covers over her.
I said, “Maybe I’d better call a doctor.”
“That will mean the police,” Ingrid said.
I said, “To hell with the police. I can’t let her die just because a pea-brained cop thinks I killed his leading citizen.”
I reached for the phone on the bedside table. Ingrid put a hand out, holding my wrist. “Maybe that man Tibbetts will know what to do. You said he took care of her when she passed out earlier.”
I had thought of Tibbetts some time before. I had hated to call him in then; I still felt the same way. But he was a better bet right now than a doctor, at least from my point of view.
I called him. He answered promptly. I said, “Mrs. Lofgren wants you in her office on the double.” I hung up.
I sat with Ingrid and watched Annette and listened to the minutes tick away. Annette showed no more signs of life than she had before.
Ingrid said suddenly, “What happens if she doesn’t wake up?”
I said, “Then I’ll have to get my answers from someone else. And I don’t have much time left. Colton’s bound to come here to check with Annette sooner or later.”
Ingrid didn’t get a chance to answer. The apartment door opened. I looked toward the living room. Tibbetts was coming in under a full head of steam. I said, “So I’ll find out the hard way, from him and from Dolphin.”
Tibbetts came into the bedroom. He looked down at Annette. I said, “Sleeping powders. Three of them. We tried egg whites and walking her. She doesn’t respond.”
He shouldered me aside. He pulled back the covers and laid his ear lightly to Annette’s breast. He straightened up. He didn’t ask me what I was doing there. I don’t think he cared right then. He paid no attention to Ingrid. He was wholly occupied with Annette.
He said, “Get me a towel dipped in cold water.”
I took the towel from the bed and soaked it in cold water. I gave it to Tibbetts.
He slapped the towel across her face, hard.
I said, “Take it easy. Rubbing her with it should do the job.”
He kept swinging the towel, harder, faster. He shouted, “She has to be awakened. She’s dead if she doesn’t wake up.”
His eyes were bulging, his face was red.
I yelled, “Take it easy!”
Tibbetts went on working. “I know what to do,” he shouted. “Don’t you think she’s done this before too?”
Color started into her cheeks. Tibbetts swung harder. I hesitated to interfere. He just might know what he was doing.
Her color deepened. Her eyelids fluttered. Tibbetts was panting. Sweat ran down his neck and under his collar. He was wound up like a mechanical toy. His arm rose and fell. The towel swished through the air, snapping viciously against her flesh. He was no longer whipping her face. He had started on her body.
Ingrid was gripping my arm. Each time the towel struck, she dug her fingers into me. She said finally, “Does he have to keep doing it now? She’s coming awake.”
I said, “That’s enough.”
Tibbetts ignored me. I grabbed him and pulled him away from
she
killed those men and then tried to kill herself?”
I said, “She could have shot Milo, but I can’t see her breaking Samuels’ neck.”
“She could if she knew just how to push or snap or whatever you do when you break a neck,” Ingrid said. “He was unconscious, wasn’t he?”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. I slowed my waltzing down.
Ingrid said, “Only you told me that she was engaged to this Milo and he was trying to help her. It doesn’t make sense for her to have killed him.”
I said, “It doesn’t make sense for anyone to have killed him—except me. That’s the way Colton will think. Milo and I had a fight, remember.”
Ingrid wasn’t listening. She was frowning harder. She said, “She isn’t reacting at all, Larry. And she should. She wasn’t awfully far under when I got here.”
I stopped jiggling Annette. I put her on the bed. I was sweating hard. I looked down at her slack, pale features as I drew the covers over her.
I said, “Maybe I’d better call a doctor.”
“That will mean the police,” Ingrid said.
I said, “To hell with the police. I can’t let her die just because a pea-brained cop thinks I killed his leading citizen.”
I reached for the phone on the bedside table. Ingrid put a hand out, holding my wrist. “Maybe that man Tibbetts will know what to do. You said he took care of her when she passed out earlier.”
I had thought of Tibbetts some time before. I had hated to call him in then; I still felt the same way. But he was a better bet right now than a doctor, at least from my point of view.
I called him. He answered promptly. I said, “Mrs. Lofgren wants you in her office on the double.” I hung up.
I sat with Ingrid and watched Annette and listened to the minutes tick away. Annette showed no more signs of life than she had before.
Ingrid said suddenly, “What happens if she doesn’t wake up?”
I said, “Then I’ll have to get my answers from someone else. And I don’t have much time left. Colton’s bound to come here to check with Annette sooner or later.”
Ingrid didn’t get a chance to answer. The apartment door opened. I looked toward the living room. Tibbetts was coming in under a full head of steam. I said, “So I’ll find out the hard way, from him and from Dolphin.”
Tibbetts came into the bedroom. He looked down at Annette. I said, “Sleeping powders. Three of them. We tried egg whites and walking her. She doesn’t respond.”
He shouldered me aside. He pulled back the covers and laid his ear lightly to Annette’s breast. He straightened up. He didn’t ask me what I was doing there. I don’t think he cared right then. He paid no attention to Ingrid. He was wholly occupied with Annette.
He said, “Get me a towel dipped in cold water.”
I took the towel from the bed and soaked it in cold water. I gave it to Tibbetts.
He slapped the towel across her face, hard.
I said, “Take it easy. Rubbing her with it should do the job.”
He kept swinging the towel, harder, faster. He shouted, “She has to be awakened. She’s dead if she doesn’t wake up.”
His eyes were bulging, his face was red.
I yelled, “Take it easy!”
Tibbetts went on working. “I know what to do,” he shouted. “Don’t you think she’s done this before too?”
Color started into her cheeks. Tibbetts swung harder. I hesitated to interfere. He just might know what he was doing.
Her color deepened. Her eyelids fluttered. Tibbetts was panting. Sweat ran down his neck and under his collar. He was wound up like a mechanical toy. His arm rose and fell. The towel swished through the air, snapping viciously against her flesh. He was no longer whipping her face. He had started on her body.
Ingrid was gripping my arm. Each time the towel struck, she dug her fingers into me. She said finally, “Does he have to keep doing it now? She’s coming awake.”
I said, “That’s enough.”
Tibbetts ignored me. I grabbed him and pulled him away from
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