Wife or Death by Ellery Queen Page A

able to tell. Anyway, from what you say, you can bet they’ll be asked to do a thorough one. Offhand, I’d say you’re going to be disappointed.”
    Denton barked a laugh. “I admire your choice of words, Corporal. Why?”
    â€œBecause the inside of his car looked like a slaughterhouse. I don’t think there’d have been that much blood if he was already dead.”
    â€œHe could have been unconscious and was sent over the embankment to be killed by the fall.”
    â€œYou’re in the wrong business, Mr. Denton. You should have been a cop.”
    I should have been a lot of things, Denton thought. “When do you suppose they’ll do the autopsy?”
    â€œThey’ll probably start it in the morning. Ought to have a full report by Monday.”
    â€œThen I’ll have to wait it out,” Denton said. “Good night, Corporal.”
    â€œGood night, sir.” The trooper stared after him doubtfully. Then he made for one of the public phones.
    Denton reached home at 5:20 A.M., exhausted and wide-awake. So he opened a fresh fifth of bourbon and sat down in his living room with it. He drank a quarter of the bottle’s contents before he began to relax. At a little past six he fell into bed. He blacked out instantly.
    When he opened his eyes it was almost eleven. For a moment he thought wildly, the Clarion ! But then he remembered. The paper stayed closed on Saturdays … Corinne !
    He dashed to the phone.
    When he was told that Mrs. Guest was still resting under sedation, he felt less guilty. He left a message saying that he would call for her later in the day.
    Forty-five minutes later he walked into Chief Spile’s office.
    â€œAm I still your number-one suspect, Augie?”
    â€œYou’re a lot lower on the list,” the chief said glumly. “Poor old George … Course, it could be just what it looked like.”
    â€œAn accident?” Denton laughed. “You really believe that?”
    â€œIt would be a pretty strong coincidence,” admitted August Spile. “Wonder where George was headed when he went over that bank. It couldn’t have been to call on Angel’s killer if the killer was one of the guests at the Wyatts’ party. They all live in town, and the car left the road around three miles out, going from town. Norm Wyatt’s hunting lodge is out of town, but in the opposite direction.”
    â€œThat’s one reason I’m so sure George didn’t die in an accident,” Denton said. “I think he was dead or unconscious, and the car was deliberately taken to that spot and pushed over with George in it, Augie, for the very reason you just mentioned.”
    â€œThat’s kind of deep, Jim,” the chief said, shaking his head.
    â€œIt’s a kind of deep case,” Denton retorted. “Any word yet as to the time of George’s death?”
    â€œI talked to Doc Olsen about an hour ago. Right now he can only guess, but he estimates between nine last night and one A.M. We know he was alive at nine, and it would have taken him at least fifteen minutes to drive through town and three miles beyond, so we can narrow it down to, say, nine-fifteen to one.”
    â€œDid the pathologist say George might have been dead before the accident?”
    â€œHe thinks not, but he’ll keep it in mind when he does the autopsy. He promised me the results on both autopsies by Monday. You can arrange for the funeral any time after that.”
    Denton was startled and chagrined. Not once since learning of Angel’s death had he had the conscious thought: You’ll have to bury her. He had not even notified Angel’s parents, though by now they must have heard the news on TV or seen it in the papers.
    He wondered if they would come to Ridgemore. He had never met them; and Angel herself had not seen them for years, although Titusville was a mere hundred miles or so away. She had written her mother