“Yessir?”
“Mr. Kelly, could you please tell me where your wife was last Friday night?”
“She was over at Susie Whitaker’s.”
“Are you sure of that?”
Phil Kelly shrugged. “Course I’m sure. Where else would she be? Those two women are together all the time, yacking, yacking, yacking. Can’t get a word in edgewise. Yeah, she took Pooh and the two of them went over therefor a couple of hours. I remember because she was so late getting back.”
“Can you tell me what time she left here and returned?”
“No problem.” Phil rummaged around in a big pile of newspapers and came up with a
TV Guide
. “Last Friday, right? Let me see. Yeah, that’s right. She left in the middle of
Gilligan’s Island
and came back at the beginning of
Wheel of Fortune
. That would make it six forty-five to a little after ten. I tell you, those two girls can talk your ear off. Never seen anything like it.”
Janovy gave up. “Thank you very much, Mr. Kelly.”
“No problem.”
As he left, Dora Kelly came to the door. “So long, doll-face. Did you get what you wanted? Did you have to pull his toenails out? Oh, Phil, you big slob, you told him everything, didn’t you? Bye-bye now! Pumpkin, wave bye-bye to the nice policeman!”
3
“All right, Fish, let’s have it,” said Detective Janovy.
The two of them were sitting in his small cramped office. Fish closed his eyes, propped his chin against his steepled fingers as if praying, and said, “I talked to the waiters and waitresses at the Golden Eagle. Three of them remember seeing Albert Whitaker and Gretchen Schneider there last Friday night. They said the two of them are regulars there. Of course, who isn’t?”
Janovy nodded. Everyone in Ridgewood was a regular at the Golden Eagle.
“The guard at the art gallery, Happy Dreams, doesn’t know the two of them and didn’t recognize them when I showed him photographs, but he’s new in town and that doesn’t mean much. He said the gallery was overflowing on Friday night because of the opening of the show, and there were too many people for him to remember. The bartender at The Painted Man said the two of them come in every Friday night for a drink. As far as he remembers, last weekend was no exception.”
Janovy nodded. It didn’t matter about the bar, anyway;the critical times were seven-thirty to nine o’clock. “In other words, Whitaker’s story checks out; but except for Dr. Schneider’s word, he has no real alibi for the time his mother was killed, when they say they were at the art gallery.”
“No, sir. No alibi.” Fish coughed delicately. “And neither does she.”
“That’s right. What else, Fish?”
“Susan Whitaker placed a call to her friend Dora Kelly’s house at six-thirty that evening. The call lasted three minutes. She could have been inviting her over, or—”
“Or not.”
“Yes, sir.”
“No way of knowing.”
“No, sir.”
Fish waited respectfully while Jonovy pondered this.
“What else, Fish?”
“Susan Whitaker’s financé, George Drexler, wasn’t in town that evening. He was at a community center near Springfield, just as he said. I spoke to the other members of Philo Harmonia, as well as some people who were in the audience that night, and they confirmed that he was there on time and played the entire performance.”
“How far away is that?”
“About an hour and a half. No less.”
“So he was away during the critical time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. What else do you have?”
“Etta Pinsky doesn’t have an alibi. She says she was home that evening, but there’s no one to confirm that.”
“Think she could be in on it, Fish?”
Fish opened and closed his mouth silently as he thought. “I doubt it, sir. Where’s her motive? Mrs. Whitaker didn’t leave her any money. And why would she suddenly decide to kill her niece?”
“I agree. The will was read yesterday?”
“Yes, sir. Everything just as Albert Whitaker told us. The money was
“Mr. Kelly, could you please tell me where your wife was last Friday night?”
“She was over at Susie Whitaker’s.”
“Are you sure of that?”
Phil Kelly shrugged. “Course I’m sure. Where else would she be? Those two women are together all the time, yacking, yacking, yacking. Can’t get a word in edgewise. Yeah, she took Pooh and the two of them went over therefor a couple of hours. I remember because she was so late getting back.”
“Can you tell me what time she left here and returned?”
“No problem.” Phil rummaged around in a big pile of newspapers and came up with a
TV Guide
. “Last Friday, right? Let me see. Yeah, that’s right. She left in the middle of
Gilligan’s Island
and came back at the beginning of
Wheel of Fortune
. That would make it six forty-five to a little after ten. I tell you, those two girls can talk your ear off. Never seen anything like it.”
Janovy gave up. “Thank you very much, Mr. Kelly.”
“No problem.”
As he left, Dora Kelly came to the door. “So long, doll-face. Did you get what you wanted? Did you have to pull his toenails out? Oh, Phil, you big slob, you told him everything, didn’t you? Bye-bye now! Pumpkin, wave bye-bye to the nice policeman!”
3
“All right, Fish, let’s have it,” said Detective Janovy.
The two of them were sitting in his small cramped office. Fish closed his eyes, propped his chin against his steepled fingers as if praying, and said, “I talked to the waiters and waitresses at the Golden Eagle. Three of them remember seeing Albert Whitaker and Gretchen Schneider there last Friday night. They said the two of them are regulars there. Of course, who isn’t?”
Janovy nodded. Everyone in Ridgewood was a regular at the Golden Eagle.
“The guard at the art gallery, Happy Dreams, doesn’t know the two of them and didn’t recognize them when I showed him photographs, but he’s new in town and that doesn’t mean much. He said the gallery was overflowing on Friday night because of the opening of the show, and there were too many people for him to remember. The bartender at The Painted Man said the two of them come in every Friday night for a drink. As far as he remembers, last weekend was no exception.”
Janovy nodded. It didn’t matter about the bar, anyway;the critical times were seven-thirty to nine o’clock. “In other words, Whitaker’s story checks out; but except for Dr. Schneider’s word, he has no real alibi for the time his mother was killed, when they say they were at the art gallery.”
“No, sir. No alibi.” Fish coughed delicately. “And neither does she.”
“That’s right. What else, Fish?”
“Susan Whitaker placed a call to her friend Dora Kelly’s house at six-thirty that evening. The call lasted three minutes. She could have been inviting her over, or—”
“Or not.”
“Yes, sir.”
“No way of knowing.”
“No, sir.”
Fish waited respectfully while Jonovy pondered this.
“What else, Fish?”
“Susan Whitaker’s financé, George Drexler, wasn’t in town that evening. He was at a community center near Springfield, just as he said. I spoke to the other members of Philo Harmonia, as well as some people who were in the audience that night, and they confirmed that he was there on time and played the entire performance.”
“How far away is that?”
“About an hour and a half. No less.”
“So he was away during the critical time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. What else do you have?”
“Etta Pinsky doesn’t have an alibi. She says she was home that evening, but there’s no one to confirm that.”
“Think she could be in on it, Fish?”
Fish opened and closed his mouth silently as he thought. “I doubt it, sir. Where’s her motive? Mrs. Whitaker didn’t leave her any money. And why would she suddenly decide to kill her niece?”
“I agree. The will was read yesterday?”
“Yes, sir. Everything just as Albert Whitaker told us. The money was
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