The Cases of Hildegarde Withers (5 page)

“Oh,
I
—
I
couldn’t
—
”
but
Corinne’s
voice
was
weaker
still.
Miss
Withers
turned
and
tiptoed
away
again.

The
Inspector
waited
in
the
lower
hall.
“Ready,
Hildegarde?
I’ll
just
stop
at
the
office
for
a
minute
to
turn
in
my
repor
t,
and
then
I’ll
run
you
home.”

They
were
in
the
headquarters
car,
headed
south,
when
the
Inspector
leaned
towards
her.
“Come
out
of
it,
Hildegarde.
Can’t
you
accept,
just
once,
that
I’m
right?
Do
you
always
have
to
look
for
the
improbable,
the
impossible?
There
never
was
a
case
so
simple
.
…
”

“All
but
the
new
gloves,”
the
schoolteacher
said
cryptically.

“Huh?
Now
relax,
Hildegarde.
Severance
realized
that
this
Pender
girl
was
going
to
ruin
his
chances
of
marrying
seven
million
dollars,
so
he
bumped
her
off
and
then
tr
ied
to
make
it
look
like
suicide
.”

“A
very
clumsy
attempt,
Oscar.
And
he
did
n’t
strike
me
as
a
clumsy
man.”

“Lots
of
people
are
clumsy
when
they
turn
to
murder.”

“Granted.
And
Severance
isn’t
the
only
man
who
wants
to
marry
Corinne
and
her
bankroll.”
The
Inspector
only
grunted
at
this
somewhat
obvious
remark.
And
then
Miss
Withers
jogged
his
elbow.
“Oscar,
would
you
mind
very
much
if
we
dropped
in
at
the
Severance
clinic
for
a
moment?”

“But
why?”
Piper
frowned.
“You
don’t
like
dead
bodies.
And
Severance
will
be
getting
a
going-over
from
the
boys
.
…
”

Still
she
insisted.
“Not
that
I
doubt
he’s
the
murderer.
Nobody
else
has
enough
motive.
But
for
the
sake
of
that
girl,
I
’
d
like
to
clarify
the
situation
just
a
bit
.
…
”

“Okay,
okay,”
agreed
the
weary
Inspector.
And
so
it
was
that
Dr.
Paul
Severance
looked
away
from
the
accusing
fingers
of
three
homicide
squad
detectives
to
see
the
equine
visage
of
Miss
Hildegarde
Withers
appearing
through
the
doorway
of
his
consulting
room.

“Why,
Aunt
Martha!”
he
said,
in
his
mello
w
voice.
“This
is
good
of
you.
”

She
put
him
right
about
the
relationship,
in
no
uncertain
terms.
“I
came
here,
young
man,
to
give
you
one
chance
to
confess.
No,
not
to
the
murder
.
B
ut
when
you
found
the
body
of
Elsie
Pender,
why
did
you
feel
it
necessary
to
write
that
phony
suicide
note?”

He
waited
a
long
time
to
answer.
“I
didn’t
write
it,”
said
Paul
Severance
finally.

Miss
Withers
obviously
lost
all
interest
in
him.
She
looked
for
a
moment
at
the
sprawled
body
of
Elsie
Pender
behind
the
desk,
noted
the
worn
but
modish
dark-brown
coat,
the
pert
red
hat.
She
peered
down
at
the
suicide
note,
the
obviously
contrived
suicide
note
with
the
glaringly
phony
signature
in
typescript.

She
picked
up
and
studied
the
pair
of
gloves
which
had
passed
the
nitrate
test,
the
brand-new
black
suede
gloves.

“Satisfied,
Hildegarde?”
demanded
the
Inspector.
“Because
if
you
ar
e
,
I’d
like
to
get
down
to
headquarters
and
turn
in
my
report.”

“Quite,”
she
told
him,
and
obediently
followed
Piper
out
of
the
room,
without
a
backward
glance
at
the
suave
but
perspiring
medico
surrounded
by
the
three
detectives.

But
once
in
the
Headquarters
car
she
tapped
the
Inspector
gently
on
the
shoulder.
“Oscar,
would
you
do
me
a
favor?
Would
you
send
out
a
broadcast
to
stop
a
car
driven
by
a
Mr.
Vaughan
Hemple?
As
a
passenger
he
has
Miss
Corinne
Lapham,
and
he’s
bound
either
for
Greenwich
or
for
North
Carolina.”

“Huh?”
was
all
the
Inspector
could
manage.

“Oh,
I
don’t
mean
he
should
be
arrested,
exactly.
Can’t
you
hold
him
as
a
material
witness
or
whatever
it
is?”

“I
could,”
said
the
Inspector
cautiously.
“Look,
Hildegarde
—
”

“And
after
you
arrange
that,”
she
went
on,
“I
wish
you’d
come
with
me
to
the
residence
of
another
witness.
I
haven’t,
the
address,
but
your
detective
who
stood
at
Mrs.
Lapham’s
door
is
sure
to
have
it
.
…
”

The
Headquarters
car
pulled
up
before
a
small
neat
apartment
house
in
the
east
Sixties.
“Look,
Hildegarde,”
the
Inspector
burst
forth,
“I’m
stringing
along
with
you
because
once
or
twice
in
the
past
you’ve
been
right.
But
I
warn
you
—
”