Bill nodded gloomily, finished dressing, and left; Ellery was already intent on the transcript. He took the elevator up to the seventh floor and knocked on the door numbered 745. It was opened by Andrea Gimball.
They were both embarrassed, and for a moment Bill’s complexion matched the pallor of the girl’s skin. She was dressed in a simple frock with a high neck, caught at the throat by a pearl clasp; the effect was severe, and for an unguarded instant it flashed through Bill’s mind that Andrea was suffering. There were alarming circles about her blue eyes and she looked peaked and ill. Her slender form drooped against the jamb. “Bill Angell,” she said, with a catch in her throat. “This is a—a surprise. Won’t you come in?”
“Come in, Bill, come in,” yelled Ella Amity’s voice from within. “Make this a real party!”
Bill frowned, but he stepped into the room. It was a sitting-room filled with fresh flowers, and Ella Amity sprawled in the most capacious chair with a glass at her elbow and a cigaret between her fingers. Tall Burke Jones glowered at him from a window-ledge, his trussed arm jutting forward like a danger-signal.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Bill, stopping short. “I’ll come around some other time, Miss Gimball.”
“What’s this,” said Jones, “a social call? I thought you fellows stayed on the other side of the fence.”
“My business,” said Bill stiffly, “is with Miss Gimball.”
“You’re with friends,” said Andrea with a wan smile. “Please sit down, Mr. Angell. I haven’t had the opportunity of… well, it’s been a little awkward, hasn’t it?”
“Hasn’t it?” said Bill foolishly, sitting down and wondering why he had done so. “What are you doing here, Ella?”
“Little Ella’s on the trail. Seeing how the other half lives. Get a story, maybe. Miss Gimball has been sweet, but Mr. Jones thinks I’m a spy, so it’s just perfect.” The newspaperwoman chuckled.
Jones rose from the ledge with an impatient movement of his muscular body. “Why the devil don’t you people let us alone?” he growled. “Bad enough we’ve got to stay down here in this filthy hole.”
Andrea glanced at her hands. “I wonder… Burke, do you mind?”
“Mind? Mind? Why should I mind?” He strode to an inner door, jerked it open, and slammed it behind him.
“Naughty, naughty,” murmured Ella. “Boy-friend has a temper. That lad will need a heap of training, darling. In fact, I think he’s a heel.” She rose lazily, drained her glass, gave them both a bewitching smile, and drifted out.
Bill and Andrea sat in silence for a moment. The silence became oppressive. They did not look at each other. Then Bill cleared his throat and said, “Don’t mind Ella, Miss Gimball. She means well. You know how these newspaper people are. …”
“I don’t mind, really.” Andrea kept studying her hands. “You wanted—?”
Bill rose and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I know this is rotten for both of us,” he said, scowling. “Jones is right. We
are
on opposite sides of the fence. I shouldn’t be here at all.”
“Why not?” murmured Andrea. Her hands strayed to her hair.
“Well… It’s not proper. I shouldn’t permit—”
“Yes?” She looked at him then, squarely.
Bill kicked a chair. “All right, I’ll say it. Personal considerations. Can’t be locked up for telling the truth. I suppose I like you. Damned fool to… I didn’t mean that. I mean that my sister is fighting for her life. I’ve got to use any weapon that comes to hand. As a matter of fact, that’s just what I’ll probably be forced to do.”
She went a little pale, and moistened her lips before she spoke. “Please tell me. There’s something on your mind. It isn’t—”
Bill sat down again and boldly took one of her hands. “Listen to me, Andrea. I came here tonight against all my instincts and training because I—well, I didn’t want you to be sore at me. After.” He drew a long breath. “Andrea, I may have to put you on the stand.”
She snatched her hand away as if it burned. “Bill! You wouldn’t!”
He passed his hands over his eyes. “The situation may demand it. Please try to understand my position. It’s Lucy’s attorney speaking now, not plain Bill Angell. Pollinger’s not far from through. On the basis of what he’s already shown, he hasn’t a case. But before he rests, he may pull something which will completely change the complexion of things. In that event, I’ll be forced to go through with the defense.”
“But what has that to do with me?” she whispered. He did not see, as he doggedly studied the rug, the terror in her eyes.
“The defense here, as in so many murder cases, is negative. It must consist in confusing the issue. It must try to put into the minds of the jury as many doubts as possible. Now, there’s no question in my mind that Pollinger knows perfectly well you visited the scene of the crime simply from having traced the Cadillac. I don’t know whether he’s talked to you about it or not.” He paused, but she did not answer. “Naturally, he wouldn’t put you on the stand. It could only hurt the State’s case.” He tried to take her hand again, but could not. “But don’t you see that if it hurts the State’s case, it helps the defense?”
She rose, and Bill, looking at her, knew that she meant to be haughty, imperious, outraged. But she was not. She bit her lip and felt for the chair. “Bill… Please don’t. Please. I—I’m not used to begging. But I must beg now. I don’t want to go on the stand. I can’t go on the stand. I
mustn
’
t!”
Her voice rose to a wail.
For the first time a cold shower drenched Bill’s brain, leaving it crisp and clean and shining. He got to his feet and they stood face to face. “Andrea,” he said in a low voice, “why mustn’t you?”
“Oh, I can’t explain! I—” She bit her lip again.
“You mean you’re afraid of the notoriety?”
“Oh, no, no, Bill! Not that. Do you think I care—”
“Andrea.” His voice hardened. “You’re in possession of some fact of importance!”
“No, no, I’m not. I’m not.”
“You must be. I see it all now. You’ve been playing me for a sucker. Playing on my sympathies.” In his anger he glared at her, and seized her shoulders; she shrank back and buried her face in her hands. “All that good-wishes bunk! This will teach me a lesson. Stay in your own back-alley. You thought you’d put one over on me, get me off my guard, get me to keep quiet—while my own sister is on trial for her life! Well, you’re mistaken. I won’t be fooled again. My dear Miss Gimball, you’re going on that stand, and God help you if there’s something you know that you’re withholding which would free my sister!”
She was sobbing now, and he took his hands from her shoulders as if contact with her was unbearable. “You don’t understand,” she said in a muffled voice. “Oh, Bill, how can you say such things? I—I wasn’t acting. I can’t… free your sister. What I know—”
“Then you do know something!” he cried.
The brimming horror in her eyes caught him up. He had never seen such a look on a human face. He drew back, his anger beginning to drain away. “I don’t know anything,” she said hurriedly, in a breathless and tumbling whisper. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m—I’m upset. I don’t know anything at all, do you hear? Oh, Bill, please…”
“Andrea,” he said in a low voice. “What is it? Why don’t you confide in me, let me help you? You’re in trouble. Are
you
mixed up in this thing? Did you… kill him?”
She sprang away. “No. I tell you I don’t know anything. Nothing at all. And if you’re going to put me on the stand, I’ll—I’ll run away! I’ll leave the State! I’ll—”
He drew a long breath, relaxing. “Very well,” he said quietly. “I know how to deal with such a situation. For your own good, Miss Gimball… I warn you. Do something rash, and I’ll hound you to your dying day. I’m on the spot, and so are you; but Lucy is closest to a horrible fate. Stay put, and I’ll be as easy with you as I can. Do you hear me?” She did not reply; she was sobbing into the cushion of a divan. He regarded her for a long time, the muscles of his cheeks twitching; then he turned on his heel and went away.
When Ellery had gone through the transcript once, he deliberately took off his coat, lit a cigaret, and buried himself in the pages once more. In a mass of testimony one section stood out. The witness had been called in late afternoon. Ellery went over the testimony slowly, word by word, and his frown deepened as he read.
DIRECT EXAMINATION BY MR. POLLINGER
Q. Your full name?
A. John Howard Collins.
Q. You operate a gasoline filling-station, Mr. Collins?
A. Yes.
Q. And where is your filling-station located?
A. I have my place on lower Lamberton Road, about six miles from Trenton. That’s between Trenton and Camden. I mean it’s closer to Trenton.
Q. I point to a certain spot on this map, Mr. Collins. Is this about where your gasoline station lies?
A. Just about. Yes, sir.
Q. You know this section well?
A. Sure. Had my place on that spot for nine-ten years. Lived near Trenton all my life.
Q. Then you know where the Marine Terminal is
?
Can you place it on this map?
A. Yes, sir. (
Witness takes pointer and points to Marine Terminal on map
.) Right here.
Q. That
’
s correct. Back on the stand, please. Now, Mr. Collins, how far from the Marine Terminal is your place of business?
A. Three miles.
Q. Do you recall the evening of June first this year, a little less than a month ago?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Clearly?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. How is that you recall that particular evening so clearly?
A. Well, a lot of things made me remember it. First place, it rained all afternoon and there was practically no business. Second place, I had an argument with my helper around half past seven and fired him. Third place, I’d run low on gas late Friday night and called up the gas people first thing Saturday morning to send a truck out, special, right away. I didn’t want to get caught low on Sunday. Truck didn’t come, though, all day Saturday.
Q. I see. Then all these things made you remember that day very clearly, Mr. Collins. Now, I show you State
’
s Exhibit 17, a photograph of an automobile. Have you ever seen the car in this photograph?
A. Yes, sir. It drove up to my place that night at five after eight.
Q. How do you know this photograph represents the identical car that drove up to your filling-station at 8.05 pm June first?
A. Well, it’s a Ford coupé, ‘32 model, and the one that drove up was, too. I wouldn’t be able to swear it’s the very same car, though, if I hadn’t also took down the license-number. And this picture here shows the same license-plate.
Q. You noted down the license-plate number, Mr. Collins? Why did you do that?
A. Because there was something phony-looking about the woman that drove it. I mean the Ford. I mean the woman was funny. She acted like she was scared of something. And then she was wearing a veil that hid her whole face. You don’t see veils these days, I mean veils like that. It all looked so screwy to me I thought maybe I’d better not take any chances, so I took down her plate-number.
Q. Tell the jury what happened when this veiled woman drove up
. A. Well, sir, I come running out of my office and I says to her: “Gas?” She nods her head. I says: “How many?” And so forth. So I pumped five gallons of gas into her.
T
HE
C
OURT
. The Court will tolerate no demonstrations of this disgraceful sort. There is no occasion for this unseemly laughter. Bailiff, eject any of the people who disturb the orderly conduct of this proceeding. Go on, Mr. Prosecutor.
Q. And what happened after you poured five gallons of gasoline into the Ford
’
s tank, Mr. Collins?
A. She gave me a one-dollar bill and drove off without waiting for her change. Oh, yes, that’s another thing that made me remember her.
Q. In what direction did she drive off?
A. Towards that shack near the Marine Terminal where the murder was.
Mr. A
NGELL
. I object, Your Honor, to the answer as suggesting an unwarrantable conclusion. According to the witness’s own testimony, his gasoline station lies three miles from the Marine Terminal. Besides, the form of the answer is clearly prejudicial.
Mr. P
OLLINGER
. If the car drove off in the direction of Trenton, Your Honor, it also drove off in the direction of the scene of the crime. We’re dealing with directions, not destinations.
T
HE
C
OURT
. That is true, Mr. Pollinger, but there is an implication nevertheless. Strike the answer out.
Q. Did the Ford drive off in the direction of Camden?
A. No, sir, it came from Camden way. It drove off toward Trenton.
Q. Mr. Collins, I show you State Exhibit 43. Do you know what it is?
A. Yes, sir, that’s the woman’s veil found in the abandoned car in Philly which—
Mr. A
NGELL
. Object—
Mr. P
OLLINGER
. Don’t expand, Mr. Collins. I want answers only to the extent of your personal knowledge and observation. Very well, it’s a woman’s veil.
Do you recognize this veil?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Where did you see it last?
A. On the face of the woman who drove up to my gas station that night.
Q. Will the defendant please rise? Now Mr. Collins, take a good look at the defendant. Have you ever seen her before?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Where, when, under what circumstances?
A. She was the one who drove up in the Ford that night for gas.
B
AILIFF
. Order in the court. Order in the court.
Mr. P
OLLINGER
. Your witness, Counsel.
CROSS-EXAMINATION BY MR. ANGELL
Q. Mr. Collins, since you have maintained your gasoline filling-station at that single location on Lamberton Road for nine years, is it fair for me to assume that you have a busy station?
Mr. P
OLLINGER
. I object, Your Honor.
Q. Never mind. Do you do a good business, Mr. Collins?
A. It’s all right.
Q. Good enough for you to remain in business there for nine years?
A. Yes.