“Maybe,” I said, “but the way it stands, I’ve got no reason for putting in with you. Your Chris is no enemy of mine. I’ve got nothing to gain by helping you frame him.”
She sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot. I don’t suppose what money I could give you would mean much to you now”–she smiled crookedly–“nor my beautiful white body. But aren’t you interested in saving Clyde?”
“Not necessarily.”
She laughed at that. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It might mean I don’t think he needs saving. The police haven’t got much on him. He’s screwy, he was in town the day Julia was killed, and she had been gypping him. That’s not enough to arrest him on.”
She laughed again. “But with my contribution?”
“I don’t know. What is it?” I asked, and went on without waiting for the answer I did not expect. “Whatever it is, you’re being a sap, Mimi. You’ve got Chris cold on bigamy. Sock that to him. There’s no–”
She smiled sweetly and said: “But I am holding that in reserve to use after this if he–”
“If he gets past the murder charge, huh? Well, it won’t work out that way, lady. You can get him about three days in jail. By that time the District Attorney will have questioned him and checked up on him enough to know that he didn’t kill Julia and that you’ve been making a chump of the D. A., and when you spring your little bigamy charge the D. A. will tell you to go jump in the lake, and he’ll refuse to prosecute.”
“But he can’t do that, Nick.”
“Can and will,” I assured her, “and if he can dig up proof that you’re holding out something he’ll make it as tough for you as he can.”
She chewed her lower lip, asked: “You’re being honest with me?”
“I’m telling you exactly what’ll happen, unless district attorneys have changed a lot since my day.”
She chewed her lip some more. “I don’t want him to get off,” she said presently, “and I don’t want to get into any trouble myself.” She looked up at me. “If you’re lying to me, Nick. .
“There’s nothing you can do about it except believe me or disbelieve me.”
She smiled and put a hand on my cheek and kissed me on the mouth and stood up. “You’re such a bastard. Well, I’m going to believe you.” She walked down to the other end of the room and back again. Her eyes were shiny, her face pleasantly excited.
“I’ll call Guild,” I said.
“No, wait. I’d rather–I’d rather see what you think of it first.”
“All right, but no clowning.”
“You’re certainly afraid of your shadow,” she said, “but don’t worry, I’m not going to play any tricks on you.”
I said that would be swell and how about showing me whatever she had to show me. “The others will be getting restless.”
She went around the bed to a closet, opened the door, pushed some clothes aside, and put a hand among other clothes behind them. “That’s funny,” she said.
“Funny?” I stood up. “It’s a panic. It’ll have Guild rolling on the floor.” I started towards the door.
“Don’t be so bad-tempered,” she said. “I’ve got it.” She turned to me holding a wadded handkerchief in her hand. As I approached, she opened the handkerchief to show me a three-inch length of watch-chain, broken at one end, attached at the other to a small gold knife. The handkerchief was a woman’s and there were brown stains on it.
“Well?” I asked.
“It was in her hand and I saw it when they left me with her and I knew it was Clyde’s, so I took it.”
“You’re sure it’s his?”
“Yes,” she said impatiently. “See, they’re gold, silver, and copper links. Fle had it made out of the first batches of metal that came through that smelting process he invented. Anybody who knows him at all well can identify it–there can’t be another like it.” She turned the knife over to let me see the C M W engraved in it. “They’re his initials. I never saw the knife before, but I’d know the chain anywhere. Clyde’s worn it for years.”