Read Online A Purple Place for Dying by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online
Authors: John D. MacDonald
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cabinet."
"He took his other toilet articles from there?"
"Yes. I… I see what you mean. It is… very strange. It makes me feel… scared." She frowned up at me. "You said it was supposed to look as if they'd gone away together. Why?"
"I don't know why." I saw her sudden change of expression. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. I suddenly remembered something. Something he said last Sunday. We were having… one of those quarrels that didn't accomplish anything. I said some kind of snotty things about his having a big week coming up, with Monday Tuesday and Thursday free for her. He said he would not see her Tuesday, yesterday. He said she would be busy. If he was planning to leave Monday…"
"He knew she would be busy with me."
"Then where did he go?"
"Where was he taken?"
"Please. Are you trying to make me more frightened?"
"What is your name?"
"Isobel. Isobel Webb."
I hooked a stool over with my foot and sat on it, close and facing her. "My name is Travis McGee, Isobel."
I took her hand. After two yanks she stopped trying to pull it away, and sat uncomfortably rigid, looking past me rather than at me.
"Why are you acting so strangely?" she asked, wetting her mouth with a quick and pointed tongue-tip.
"I don't want to scare you. I'm going to take a chance on telling you something. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe you'll fly apart. I don't want you to. I want you to hold on tight and ride with it. Will you try? Good. Now listen carefully. Mona Yeoman took me to an isolated cabin in the hills. At two twenty-five yesterday afternoon, standing just as close to me as you are right now, she was shot in the back and killed instantly with a high-powered rifle fired at long range. I walked out. When I came back with the Sheriff, her body was gone. All trace of her was gone. They will not believe me. They think I was trying to put up a smoke screen so she could make an easier getaway with your brother."
She searched my face. Her eyelashes were uncommonly long. "But… they got on an airplane yesterday. At one fifteen. They went to…"
"A big blonde woman and a very tall thin man, both in dark glasses, got on an airplane yesterday at one fifteen. I know damned well that Mona Yeoman was not on that airplane. At one fifteen she and I were in her little car heading for that cabin. We were practically there. The manifest gave the names as Mr. and Mrs. Webber Johnson. John Webb. It was like wearing a sandwich sign. If he was trying to escape notice, would he have picked a name like that? Was he that stupid?"
"No. You… you use the past tense."
"Was he planning to meet her Monday afternoon?"
"N-No. He had too much work piled up. He was going to come back here and work. He had papers to grade. They were on that table when I got back here. I've turned all the class materials over to the department. Other men are taking over his courses, until they can find someone."
I was watching her closely. She seemed very jumpy, but she seemed to be holding, on pretty well.
"I know Mona is dead, Isobel. And there seems to be a lot of organization behind this. Substitutes took that flight. I know Mona is dead, and the only way the plan could be made to work, to look as if they ran off together, would be to kill your brother too."
She closed her eyes and her hand clamped hard on mine. A small smooth pale hand, but quite strong. When she opened her eyes, they looked blank and dazed.
"But it is so… so strange! What would be gained?"
"We don't know. Not yet. But the search would continue, looking for a pair of lovers in hiding, and after a while it would die down. I guess the traditional guess would be that they had made a new life for themselves somewhere else."
"Would her husband do that?"
"I don't think so."
She looked at the black case. I had put it on the table beside the chair. "Then that is sort of evidence, isn't it?" She stirred as though to stand. "I should tell the police."
"Now wait a minute, Isobel."
"Why should I wait a
"He took his other toilet articles from there?"
"Yes. I… I see what you mean. It is… very strange. It makes me feel… scared." She frowned up at me. "You said it was supposed to look as if they'd gone away together. Why?"
"I don't know why." I saw her sudden change of expression. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. I suddenly remembered something. Something he said last Sunday. We were having… one of those quarrels that didn't accomplish anything. I said some kind of snotty things about his having a big week coming up, with Monday Tuesday and Thursday free for her. He said he would not see her Tuesday, yesterday. He said she would be busy. If he was planning to leave Monday…"
"He knew she would be busy with me."
"Then where did he go?"
"Where was he taken?"
"Please. Are you trying to make me more frightened?"
"What is your name?"
"Isobel. Isobel Webb."
I hooked a stool over with my foot and sat on it, close and facing her. "My name is Travis McGee, Isobel."
I took her hand. After two yanks she stopped trying to pull it away, and sat uncomfortably rigid, looking past me rather than at me.
"Why are you acting so strangely?" she asked, wetting her mouth with a quick and pointed tongue-tip.
"I don't want to scare you. I'm going to take a chance on telling you something. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe you'll fly apart. I don't want you to. I want you to hold on tight and ride with it. Will you try? Good. Now listen carefully. Mona Yeoman took me to an isolated cabin in the hills. At two twenty-five yesterday afternoon, standing just as close to me as you are right now, she was shot in the back and killed instantly with a high-powered rifle fired at long range. I walked out. When I came back with the Sheriff, her body was gone. All trace of her was gone. They will not believe me. They think I was trying to put up a smoke screen so she could make an easier getaway with your brother."
She searched my face. Her eyelashes were uncommonly long. "But… they got on an airplane yesterday. At one fifteen. They went to…"
"A big blonde woman and a very tall thin man, both in dark glasses, got on an airplane yesterday at one fifteen. I know damned well that Mona Yeoman was not on that airplane. At one fifteen she and I were in her little car heading for that cabin. We were practically there. The manifest gave the names as Mr. and Mrs. Webber Johnson. John Webb. It was like wearing a sandwich sign. If he was trying to escape notice, would he have picked a name like that? Was he that stupid?"
"No. You… you use the past tense."
"Was he planning to meet her Monday afternoon?"
"N-No. He had too much work piled up. He was going to come back here and work. He had papers to grade. They were on that table when I got back here. I've turned all the class materials over to the department. Other men are taking over his courses, until they can find someone."
I was watching her closely. She seemed very jumpy, but she seemed to be holding, on pretty well.
"I know Mona is dead, Isobel. And there seems to be a lot of organization behind this. Substitutes took that flight. I know Mona is dead, and the only way the plan could be made to work, to look as if they ran off together, would be to kill your brother too."
She closed her eyes and her hand clamped hard on mine. A small smooth pale hand, but quite strong. When she opened her eyes, they looked blank and dazed.
"But it is so… so strange! What would be gained?"
"We don't know. Not yet. But the search would continue, looking for a pair of lovers in hiding, and after a while it would die down. I guess the traditional guess would be that they had made a new life for themselves somewhere else."
"Would her husband do that?"
"I don't think so."
She looked at the black case. I had put it on the table beside the chair. "Then that is sort of evidence, isn't it?" She stirred as though to stand. "I should tell the police."
"Now wait a minute, Isobel."
"Why should I wait a
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