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Authors: James M. Cain
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when I got back to the office I knew I wasn’t right. It was eating on me a little more than I had thought, whatever it was I wasn’t buying about the death of Richard Sperry, geologist. And when Jane rang me, around noon, and asked me to step over, as the police had some questions they wanted to ask her, and she didn’t want to be alone with them, Bo-Bo the Butterfly did a couple of fronts in my stomach.
But when they came up to her suite, a patrolman and a sergeant, they treated her fine, and said all they were trying to do was check for their report where he fell from, or jumped from, whatever it was that he did, and they were pretty certain it had to be from this apartment. They hadn’t been able to find anybody that saw him fall, but they had questioned everybody on this tier, and three of them had seen him go by the window. But as one of them was the man in the apartment just below hers, it pretty well let any other apartment out, as hers was on the top deck. The sergeant looked at her, then said: “Not to upset you any more than I can help, ma’am, there’s things people do when they fall that a police officer knows about and not many other people do, and the way these people tell it sounds O.K. to us, and specially it sounds O.K. the way this fellow just below you tells it. It don’t sound to us like stuff he might be making up just to get his name in the paper.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“A man falling, he moans. It’s a pitiful sound.”
“Now I understand.”
“These people, that’s what they noticed.”
“It couldn’t have been this suite.”
“Were you here?”
“No, that’s the point. I was out.”
“Where was you, if you don’t mind saying?”
“At a picture show.”
“Here in town?”
“The Rhythm Parade. At the Granada.”
“You come straight here?”
“I arrived at the hotel around a quarter to twelve, after starting down to Harold’s and changing my mind and coming here. When I got here the ambulance had arrived and the officers were making the crowd stand back, so I had some trouble getting by. I had no idea what had happened, or who it had happened to, until I got up here and the officers rang me, a few minutes later, and then came up and told me.”
“Did this man have a key to your room?”
“Not that I know of.”
“He come here often?”
“Never. I hadn’t seen him in three years.”
“How could he have got in?”
“I don’t know.”
“He in any trouble that you know of?”
“I know nothing of his recent affairs.”
“He sick or anything?”
“He was in good health when he was my husband.”
“Get along with his wife?”
“I don’t know.”
“You got any ideas about this? You understand, ma’am, we’re not charging anybody. It’s nothing like that. But we got to make a report. It’s got to be, the way we figure it, that he went out that window there. The first thing is why, and the next thing is, how.”
“I can’t imagine his doing a thing like that, or any reason he would have for doing it. Or how he could get in here, or why.”
“That window’s high, for one thing.”
“Didn’t he have a window of his own?”
“He had a wife of his own, too. Watching him, maybe.”
“One reason for suicide, no doubt.”
That’s what she said, but she kind of snapped it out and everybody laughed. After a minute she laughed. It was easy to see that the cops had put it together on a suicide basis, with some trouble going on between Sperry and Mrs. Sperry as the reason for it. Then the sergeant said: “Anybody else in the apartment at the time you was out?”
“No. ... Or, wait. I’ll see.”
She went in the bedroom and picked up the telephone. There was some talk and she came back. “I just happened to think that my maid may have been up, putting out my things for the night.”
“Had they been put out when you got in?”
“Yes, of course.”
“She coming?”
“She’s on her way up.”
So that was the
But when they came up to her suite, a patrolman and a sergeant, they treated her fine, and said all they were trying to do was check for their report where he fell from, or jumped from, whatever it was that he did, and they were pretty certain it had to be from this apartment. They hadn’t been able to find anybody that saw him fall, but they had questioned everybody on this tier, and three of them had seen him go by the window. But as one of them was the man in the apartment just below hers, it pretty well let any other apartment out, as hers was on the top deck. The sergeant looked at her, then said: “Not to upset you any more than I can help, ma’am, there’s things people do when they fall that a police officer knows about and not many other people do, and the way these people tell it sounds O.K. to us, and specially it sounds O.K. the way this fellow just below you tells it. It don’t sound to us like stuff he might be making up just to get his name in the paper.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“A man falling, he moans. It’s a pitiful sound.”
“Now I understand.”
“These people, that’s what they noticed.”
“It couldn’t have been this suite.”
“Were you here?”
“No, that’s the point. I was out.”
“Where was you, if you don’t mind saying?”
“At a picture show.”
“Here in town?”
“The Rhythm Parade. At the Granada.”
“You come straight here?”
“I arrived at the hotel around a quarter to twelve, after starting down to Harold’s and changing my mind and coming here. When I got here the ambulance had arrived and the officers were making the crowd stand back, so I had some trouble getting by. I had no idea what had happened, or who it had happened to, until I got up here and the officers rang me, a few minutes later, and then came up and told me.”
“Did this man have a key to your room?”
“Not that I know of.”
“He come here often?”
“Never. I hadn’t seen him in three years.”
“How could he have got in?”
“I don’t know.”
“He in any trouble that you know of?”
“I know nothing of his recent affairs.”
“He sick or anything?”
“He was in good health when he was my husband.”
“Get along with his wife?”
“I don’t know.”
“You got any ideas about this? You understand, ma’am, we’re not charging anybody. It’s nothing like that. But we got to make a report. It’s got to be, the way we figure it, that he went out that window there. The first thing is why, and the next thing is, how.”
“I can’t imagine his doing a thing like that, or any reason he would have for doing it. Or how he could get in here, or why.”
“That window’s high, for one thing.”
“Didn’t he have a window of his own?”
“He had a wife of his own, too. Watching him, maybe.”
“One reason for suicide, no doubt.”
That’s what she said, but she kind of snapped it out and everybody laughed. After a minute she laughed. It was easy to see that the cops had put it together on a suicide basis, with some trouble going on between Sperry and Mrs. Sperry as the reason for it. Then the sergeant said: “Anybody else in the apartment at the time you was out?”
“No. ... Or, wait. I’ll see.”
She went in the bedroom and picked up the telephone. There was some talk and she came back. “I just happened to think that my maid may have been up, putting out my things for the night.”
“Had they been put out when you got in?”
“Yes, of course.”
“She coming?”
“She’s on her way up.”
So that was the
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