“Believe me, she went out the window. I heard the sound of the impact and I know she didn’t walk away. I thought the workmen would find the body, but it seems to be gone.”
“What the hell do you mean-gone?”
“Today I learned from Biddy that her old friend, Mr. McGee, told her at the party that he saw Maureen sneaking out alone. Assume he knows the terms of the trust funds. So I think he’ll get in touch with me to sell me a little information. Your next job is to get to him first, David, and see if you can encourage him to tell you all about it.”
Broon did not respond. I found it hard to relate the voices that came over the little speaker to the two men standing under a distant tree across the sunny pasture-land.
“You poor damn fool,” Broon said.
“It’s really quite imperative to get going on it,” Tom Pike said, “because even if he hadn’t interfered, it will take several months before they’ll close out the trust and transfer the principal directly to Bridget.”
“Somebody steals a body and you think it’s some kind of an inconvenience! You damn fool!”
“Why get in an uproar, Broon? Body or no body, nobody can ever prove a thing.”
“You don’t even realize it’s all over, do you? I’ll tell you, there’s only one way I can walk away from this one, partner.”
Quite suddenly there was a grunt of effort, a gasp of surprise, over the speaker. The distant figures had merged abruptly, and as they spun around it looked, at that distance, like some grotesque dance. The taller figure went up and over and down, and we heard the thud of impact. Both of them were down and invisible. The grass concealed them. Dave Broon stood up, stared down for a moment. Stanger lowered the binoculars quickly. Broon made a slow turn, all the way around, eyes searching the horizon.
“Shouldn’t we–”
“Shut up, Lew,” Stanger said.
Broon trotted out of the shade and across the sunlit grass to his car. He opened the trunk. Stanger put the glasses on him as he came back.
“Coil of rope,” he said. “Tie him up and tote him away, maybe.”
“But if he drives off–” Nudenbarger started to say.
“If I can’t punch that engine dead at this range with that there carbine, Lew, I’m not trying.”.
Broon squatted over Tom Pike for a little while, then straightened and took Pike under the armpits and dragged him about fifteen feet. He dropped him there and went quickly to the tree, jumped and caught a limb, quickly pulled himself up and out of sight in the leaves.
“Son of a gun!” Stanger said.
“Why is he climbing the tree?” Lew asked plaintively.
“He took the end of the rope up with him. What do you think?”
Nudenbarger looked baffled. I comprehended the shape and the sense of it. And soon it was confirmed when Tom Pike sat up in the grass quite slowly, slumping to the side in an unnatural way.
Then he rose slowly up from a sitting position.
“Oh, God!” cried Nudenbarger.
“Keep your damned voice down to a soft beller!” Al snapped.
Over the speaker came a strange sound, a gagging, rasping cry. Pike ran a few steps in one direction and was snubbed to a halt. He staggered back. He tried the other direction and did not get as far.
Stanger said, not taking his eyes from the glasses, “Got the fingers of both hands into that loop now, holding it off his throat.”
“Broon!” the deep voice cried, cracked and ragged.
He seemed to run in place and then he moved up a little bit. Straight up. And a little bit more. His legs made running motions. He began turning. Then his shoes were above the highest blades of grass. Dave Broon dropped abruptly into view. Nudenbarger raised the carbine and Stanger slapped the barrel down.
Broon got into the red wagon and swung it in a quick turn and parked it close to where Pike hung.
He got out, backed off, looked at Pike, and then ran for his car.