As Rush walked to the Elks' Club for breakfast a few hours later he felt
that suspicion was in the very air of Elsinore, the very leaves of the
quiet Sunday streets rustled with it. Even on Atlantic Avenue there were
knots of men discussing the murder, and in Main Street every man that
passed received a hard stare.
Rush was thankful to observe that all looked as if they had gone to bed
late and slept little, and when he met Sam Cummack on the steps of the
clubhouse he realised the advantages of the habit of careful grooming to
which the deceased's brother-in-law was quite indifferent.
"Oh, Dwight!" groaned Cummack, seizing his hand. "Where were you last
night? I'd have liked to have you round."
"I was in Brooklyn and got back late. What's your opinion?"
"I've had a dozen but they don't seem to hold water. I guess it was a
gunman, imported direct--though perhaps I'm just hoping it wasn't one of
them trollops did it--for the sake of the family as well as poor Dave's
name. I don't want a scandal like that. Murder's bad enough, the Lord
knows."
"What sort of footsteps in the grounds?"
"Every kind we've got in Elsinore, I guess. About forty people were
runnin' round the yard before the police came. Funny that Gifning didn't
think of that. But he says the breath was knocked out of him. Jimminy! I
never knew anything to upset the town like this before--the county, you
might say. The telephone's been buzzin' till the girls have threatened
to strike. An operator fainted this morning--wonder if Dave knew her?"
"Well, I am rather surprised to learn that Balfame was so popular--"
"'Tain't that only--though Dave still had lots of friends in spite of
that ugly temper he was growin'; but we've all got enemies--every last
one of us--and to be shot down at his own gate like that--Gee, it has
given every man in town the creeps. We must get the man quick and make
an example of him. I hope I'm drawn."
"I hope he doesn't ask me to defend him. How is Mrs. Balfame bearing
up?"
"Fine. She's as cool as they make 'em. I'd hate to be married to one of
them cucumbers myself, but they're damned convenient in times of
trouble. Maybe she cared a lot for Dave; who knows? At any rate we must
make people think she did. I don't want suspicion pointing to her."
"What! It is incredible that you should think of such a thing." Rush,
always pale, had turned as white as chalk. "You can't mean that people
are saying--"
"Not yet. But we've got to be prepared for anything, especially with
these New York newspapermen on the trail. Unless we catch the murderer
damned quick, every last one of us that was close to Dave that can't
prove an alibi will be suspected. Why, I walked with him for two blocks
after he left my house--thought he might not be able to make it alone,
and he wouldn't go in the car; then, I didn't go straight home, either.
I went to my office to straighten out something--Oh, Lord! don't let's
talk of it; I must have been there alone, not a soul to see me, when he
was shot. It gives me the horrors to think of it--"
"Nonsense! It was well known that you were his best friend. No one would
think of you."
"They might! They might!"
"Well--about Mrs. Balfame?"
"Oh, she's got the best alibi ever. She'd packed his suitcase and
carried it downstairs, and even written a note describing some bag or
other she wanted and pinned it to his coat. I was there when the police
examined it. They're not saying who they're suspectin', but they're
doin' a heap of thinkin'. Fact remains that she was alone in the front
of the house--that mutt of a hired girl she's got was way up in the back
part groanin' with a toothache when I routed her out. If she wasn't such
a fright that Dave wouldn't have looked at her--Well, the police know
that Dave wasn't what you might call a model husband; but Enid, so far
as we all know, never rowed him. That's the most tryin' sort, though,
and generally conceals the most hate. But she had her clubs and all the
rest of it. Maybe she didn't care. I'm only wonderin' what Phipps
thinks. That's the reason I want her to see the newspapermen. She might
throw them off the scent at least. Of course, they'd rather she'd done
it than any one--"
"You won't even hint to her that she may be suspected?" interrupted
Rush, sharply.
"Oh, Lord, no. I'd never dare. Just persuade her somehow. Guess Anna or
Polly can manage it."
Rush turned and walked down the steps. "I'll go to the Elsinore to
breakfast. The reporters are likely to show up there. I know Jim
Broderick. We must be on the job all the time."