And he paid me two hundred fifty dollars a month just to tell him who went in there. Just that.”
“What did you do when the light came on?”
“I’d write down the license number, if it was a car or truck, something like that, or write down what it had on it, like the telephone company truck. And if it was a per son, I’d just write down something like a girl with long hair, or two women, or whatever came to mind, and say if they was just taking a walk and going back, or going out to the orchard, or on his place. You know, sort of what they were doing “And then what did you do?”
“Well, if it was daytime, I’d call him on the tele phone and tell him what I seen. If it was late, I’d wait until the next day and call him up and tell him.”
“Just him? Did you ever call Mrs. Dodgson?”
“He said not to call her, just him, and that’s what I did.”
“Do you know what turned on the light in your room?”
“I figured it out,” she said with a nod that sent her flesh quivering.
“I seen that Mrs. Dodgson never went past that sign they put up; No Trespassing sign it is, first one ever on any of that property. And one day I watched one of the girls go past it and sure enough the light come on, so I knew.”
“So you could see the cars that entered. Could you see inside the cars, see the people?”
“Oh, sure. After I got the hang of the telescope, I could see right in. And the same car usually brought in the new girls, so I knew to watch those times. I could see them, all right.”
“What did you do about nighttime, when it was dark?”
“They bought me some special binoculars, heavy thing it was, and I could see at night with it. Sometimes deer or elk or even a coyote made the light go on, but he didn’t want to hear about them. But I looked, just the same.”
“Mrs. Voight, just how much could you see from your room?” Barbara went to the stand with the aerial map and moved it closer.
“Here’s your house,” she began but Carrie Voight was shaking her head.
“That’s not right,” she said. Her jowls were in motion, and her mouth was pursed so tightly her lips had vanished.
“This map was made from a photograph taken by an airplane,” Barbara said.
“This is how it all looks from above.”
Carrie Voight looked at it with suspicion and shook her head again.
“All right,” Barbara said in resignation.
“You just tell me what you could see and I’ll try to locate it on the map.”
It was laborious because Carrie kept backing and filling She had not been able to see much of anything on the private road past the Canby driveway too many trees. Neither the Canby house nor the Dodgson house had been visible too many shrubs and trees. Some of the Dodgson driveway had been visible, not much too many trees. None of the Gallead property; the fence was too high and he left too many trees out front.
“Are you still employed by Mr. Dodgson?”
“No, ma’am. Couple days after the fire he sent some one to take away all the stuff the telescope, the light, everything.”
“While you were employed by him, did you tell any one what you were doing?”
“Hermie knew, that’s all. Mr. Dodgson said I shouldn’t talk about it, people wouldn’t understand, and I didn’t” “Did he ask you not to talk about it after you stopped working for him?”
“Well, he said he’d appreciate it if I didn’t, but he’s not paying me nothing now and I don’t have to do what he says no more. Anyways, when people come around asking about it, I figured he must have told I mean who else would have’? and so I did, too.” She lifted one hand in a gesture that seemed meaningless; her hand was tiny, as were her feet, as if inside her hulking monstrous body was a doll-like creature.
“You were in your room on the morning of the fire at the Canby house?” Barbara asked finally.
“Will you tell us about that, please?”
“Well, sure,” Carrie Voight said.
“The light came on and I was already by the window in my chair, the kind that has a motor to help you get out of, and so I just looked out and seen it was Angela and didn’t pay much attention. I mean, she worked there, and she stopped to talk to Mrs. Dodgson. And I started to get up, but the chair takes a while, and when I looked out again, Angela was already on the Canby driveway and Mrs. Dodg son was fooling around with the gate to her driveway. I thought she was going in, but maybe not, because next time I looked she was near the No Trespassing sign again. And I didn’t look out again until the fire engines come.”
Wrong! Barbara wanted to say, but she walked to her table in thought instead. This wasn’t what Carrie had said earlier to Bailey. She said, “Let’s take it a little slower, Mrs. Voight. The light came on and you looked and saw Angela’s car. Did you see her?”
“No. But I knew the car just fine.”
“Did you see her daughter Annie?”
“I didn’t see nobody in the car.”
“And then you started to get out of your chair and didn’t look out again for a few minutes. Is that right?”
Carrie Voight sighed and made the small gesture with her small hand.
“That’s right.”
“When you did look out again, you saw the car in the Canby driveway and Mrs. Dodgson by her own gate, doing something to it? Could you see what she was doing?”
“Like I said, I thought she was opening it, going in, done with her walk.”
“Did you see her open the gate?”
“No. I said she was fooling with it, like she was going to open it, that’s all.”
“Is that gate usually locked?”
“I guess so. I seen her unlock it and go out and lock it again after she took her walk. Plenty of times.”
“All right, then what did you do?”
Carrie’s mouth pursed tight again.
“Nothing. Just wanted to get up.”
“How long do you think you were out of the chair?”
“Long enough … I don’t know.”
Oh, Barbara thought suddenly.
“Where is your bath room, Mrs. Voight?”
Her lips had vanished again.
“Down the hall a ways.
Not far.”
“Did you go to the bathroom when you got out of your chair?”
“I might have.”
Ten minutes? Fifteen minutes?
“Mrs. Voight,” she said kindly, “did you go out of your room, go down the hall to the bathroom and stay there a few minutes, and then return to your chair?”
“Yes.” She raised both hands and let them drop gently. She had no lap for them to rest on; they stopped moving where they landed.
“When did you look out the window again, Mrs.
Voight?”
“Right when I got back. She was right near the No Trespassing sign. Couldn’t miss her in that pink outfit.
Then I got myself in place for the chair to take me down and lean me back and I turned on the television, and I didn’t look out again. I watched “I Love Lucy’;
it’s just a rerun, but I like it. It come on at eleven, so it must have been eleven,” she finished in triumph.
“What was Mrs. Dodgson doing when you saw her that last time?”
“Nothing, just standing there. I seen her back, that’s all. Oh, then she was tying her shoe, I guess. You know, she bent down like she was tying her shoe. And I didn’t look again.”
It was twenty-five minutes before five when Barbara finished with Carrie Voight.
Fierst implied that Carrie Voight was a spy, and everyone knew spies were not trustworthy; he implied that everything she had said was a fabrication, an attempt to get even with the Dodgsons because an easy income had been stopped. Barbara objected and he retracted a bit, and then came back meaner, right up to five minutes before five, when he asked.
“Did you see anyone else on that private road that morning?”
“No,” she said in a near whisper. Everything about her was quivering, her jowls, her hands, the tentlike garment, even her feet.
“Did anyone except Angela Everts set off your light that morning?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“No more questions,” he said brusquely.
Barbara returned to the only three things of interest to her now: Was Kay Dodgson near the pond when Angela Everts stopped? Was she at her gate, fooling with it, about five minutes later? Was she again near the pond at about eleven?
“They knew,” she fumed, back in Frank’s house.
“That’s why they didn’t call her. She should have been their witness.”
“Well, they found out,” Frank agreed.
“And by then they were pretty much committed. Way it goes. What I’m going to do is get on my shorts and weed the garden, and later on broil a couple of steaks, and cook plenty of veggies.”
She went up to change her clothes, and when she returned, Frank was out in the garden, a ridiculous figure in shorts that were baggy and came down to his knees, sneakers without socks, and a wide-brimmed straw hat.
He had put the telephone on the back porch. She went outside and walked the length of the brick path that led from the house to a storage shed at the end of the property, fifty feet away. It was a pretty backyard, with the vegetable garden on one side, backed by a fence covered with vines in bloom. On the other side was a rose arbor, a flower border, shrubbery. Pretty, but too short.
She walked back and forth for several minutes and finally stopped near where her father was weeding a row of lettuce.
“What’s wrong with it?” she demanded.
He looked up and said, “It’s flabby, that’s all.”
She nodded. Flabby.
“Honey, you made a very good opening statement;
pity you didn’t listen to what you said. Got it on tape if you want to play it.”
“You’re taping,” she said, and shook her head.
“For heaven’s sake, they’re going to catch you at it. You know that.”
He shrugged.
“Maybe. Anyway, what you said was you don’t have to point a finger at anyone else; all you have to do is raise enough doubts about the case the state’s making. You’re doing a good bit of that.”
“But not enough,” she muttered.
“Not enough yet.”
“Try me,” he suggested, and started to wield a strangely shaped hoe, like an elongated diamond.
“Okay. Access. They said the place was sewed up; I showed that it wasn’t. Kay Dodgson’s story is blown out of the water, and Carrie Voight couldn’t see enough.”
“Coming down the back woods means a lot of trouble Frank said, not looking up from his task.
“Means someone already knew about the gas, or happened on it.
Always risky, counting on happenstance. Why would a stranger come out of the woods to kill a child and burn down a house? And vanish without leaving a trace?”
“You’re getting into motive,” she complained, walking slowly again.
“Not a stranger. Jack Kennerman. He had motive, as much as Paula. She was a perfect mother.”
“Yep, proven by every word in court most of the day.
But she was a battered wife. She was pushed too far and snapped. The child said something like, “I want to go home, where’s Daddy,” and she broke.”
Barbara scowled at him.
“Jack.”
“He might have wanted to burn it down,” Frank said, “force her back home, but he’s afraid of the woods.
Can’t prove he knew the place existed. Not reasonable to think he’d go fishing, drive back directly to the house, and conveniently find it empty, or wait for it to get emptied, and do the deed. Why not do it first and then set up the fishing alibi?”
“He wouldn’t have known it was empty,” she said, coming to a stop.
“He wouldn’t have known how many people were supposed to be there. Even if he saw Paula leave, he didn’t see Lori.”
Frank stopped hoeing and regarded her thoughtfully.
“Oh,” she whispered.
“Right back.” She ran to the house and her briefcase with the names, addresses, and phone numbers of all the witnesses, and she called Angela Everts.
When Frank shouldered his hoe a few minutes later and joined her on the porch, she had the phone to her ear. She held it out so he could hear the ringing.
“Honey,” he said, “even if you can’t prove Jack did it, and I sincerely doubt he did, you are still raising all kinds of questions about the state’s case. That’s all you have to do. Paula deserves a fair ” She was looking at him absently, then said into the phone, “Mrs. Melrose?” She paused, then said, “This is Barbara Holloway. I have to see you. There are a few questions I really have to ask. When would be a good time? An hour, this evening some time?” She listened, and nodded.
“Fine. At ten in the morning. Thanks.”
To Frank she said, “The gate wasn’t locked when Angela went up to the Dodgson house to call the fire department.”
He waited.
“Why didn’t Kay lock the gate that morning? As careful as they were, it should have been automatic with her. We’ve been asking the wrong question.” She stood up and stretched.
“For heaven’s sake, it’s so obvious.”
“You planning on letting me in on what you’re thinking he asked aggrievedly, hefting the hoe as if ready to go back to the garden.
“You going to stop messing around in the dirt and sit down so I can tell you?”
He leaned the hoe against the porch rail and sat down.
“We’ve been asking why she would lie for a stranger.
That’s the point Fierst will hammer home when he sums up. What difference did it make to the Dodgsons who did it as long as the Canby place was put out of business? But what if she saw someone and recognized him? What if she is terrified of that person? That would be reason enough for her lies.”
In her mind’s eye she saw again the look of terror flash across Kay Dodgson’s face when she said that Royce Gallead was not a friend, merely a neighbor.
“No details,” she said.
“Let’s try a broad outline and see what’s missing. Kay is afraid of Royce Gallead. Maybe he’s been threatening, demanding they get rid of the women at the Canby Ranch. After all, his truck and his workers, legal or otherwise, were in sight the morning a photographer was out there. Next time, who knew what might happen? So, Kay learns the house will be empty and she runs home and calls him and tells him to take care of it himself. Then she has to go back out and see if he actually does anything. She must have seen him, or why lie?”
Frank made a grunting sound that she ignored.