“No-gone sane. I’ll tell you how you did it, n beautiful darling. You both
were there-you admitt that. Estelle got in her pose, and asked you to pun the
buzzer. You did-but first you grabbed the kni and slid it in her ribs. You wiped the
handle, look around, punched the buzzer, and lammed. About t seconds later you were
slipping your arm in mir Me-your alibi!”
“It had to be you,” I went on, “for no one else wou have had the guts to
commit murder with nothing b glass between him and an audience. The stage w
lighted-from the outside. You knew that, but it didi worry you. You were used to
parading around nak4 in front of that glass, certain you could not be se~ while the
house lights were on! No one else would ha dared!”
She looked at me as if she could not believe her ea and her chin began to
quiver. Then she squatted do~ on the floor and burst into tears. Real tears-tb
dripped. It was my cue to go soft, but I did not. I dor like killing.
I stood over her. “Why did you kill her? Why did you kill her?”
“Get out of here.”
“Not likely. I’m going to see you fry, my big-busted angel.” I headed for
the telephone, keeping my eyes on her. I did not dare turn my back, even naked as
she was.
She made a break, but it was not for me; it was for the door. How far she
thought she could get in the buff I don’t know.
I tripped her and fell on her. She was a big armful and ready to bite and
claw, but I got a hammer lock on one arm and twisted it. “Be good,” I warned her,
“or I’ll break it.”
She lay still and I began to be aware that she was not only an armful but a
very female armful. I ignored it. “Let me go, Eddie,” she said in a tense whisper,
“or I’ll scream rape and get the cops in.”
“Go right ahead, gorgeous,” I told her. “The cops are just what I want, and
quick.”
“Eddie, Eddie, listen to reason-I didn’t kill her, but I know who did.”
“Huh? Who?”
“I know.. . I do know-but he couldn’t have. That’s why I haven’t said
anything.”
“Tell me.”
She didn’t answer at once; I twisted her arm. “Tell me!
“Oh! It was Jack.”
“Jack? Nonsense-I was watching him.”
“I know. But he did it, just the same. I don’t know how-but he did it.”
I held her down, thinking. She watched my face. “Ed?”
“Huh?”
“If I punched the buzzer, wouldn’t my fingerprint be on it?”
“Should be.”
“Why don’t you find out?”
It stonkered me. I thought I was right but si seemed quite willing to make
the test. “Get up,” I sai “On your knees and then on your feet. But don’t try get
your arm free and don’t try any tricks, or, so he me, I’ll kick you in the belly.”
She was docile enough and I moved us over to ti phone, dialled it with one
hand and managed to get Spade Jones through the police exchange. “Spad This is
Eddie-Eddie Hill. Was there a fingerprint the buzzer button?”
“Now I wondered when you would be getti] around to thinking of that. There
was.”
“Whose?”
“The corpse’s.”
“Estelle’s?”
“The same. And Estelle’s on the egg timer. None the knife-wiped clean. Lots
from both girls aroui the room, and a few odd ones-old, probably.”
“Uh. . . yes . .. . well, thanks.”
“Not at all. Call me if you get any bright ideas, son I hung up the phone
and turned to Hazel. I gues~ had let go her arm when Spade told me the print w not
hers, but I don’t remember doing so. She w standing there, rubbing her arm and
looking at me a very odd way. “Well,” I said, “you can twist my an or kick me
anywhere you like. I was wrong. I’m son I’ll try to prove it to you.”
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She started to speak and then started to leak tea again. It finished up with