Read Online The Uncomplaining Corpses by Brett Halliday - Free Book Online
Authors: Brett Halliday
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not ashamed of a husband who is a murderer to all intents and purposes?”
“Don’t, Michael.” Tears glistened in her wide dark eyes but she met his gaze frankly. “I called up the Herald and told them what I thought about their nasty, lying insinuations.”
Shayne chuckled, then soberly reminded her, “There’s always that log cabin waiting for us in Colorado if I get run out of town.”
“You won’t,” she cried intensely. “You’ll stay right here and clear yourself.”
“It looks bad for the shock troops. I did send Joe Darnell out there, you know.”
“Then he didn’t do what you told him to do—not if he killed Mrs. Thrip .”
“What makes you so positive?”
“Because I know you. You’re not—Oh, Michael! you don’t think he assaulted Mrs. Thrip , do you?”
“Of course not, angel. I know that Darnell didn’t for the same reason you know that I wouldn’t have sent a killer out there.” He paused to empty his coffee mug, then told her about Joe and Dora while she refilled it.
“Joe was on the level,” he went on with a grimace. “He played outside the law but I would trust him further than many men who hide behind legal technicalities instead of using a gun to take what they want. Any man who honestly plans to marry a girl like Dora doesn’t go out and deliberately attack a middle-aged woman.”
“I knew it.” Gladness radiated from Phyllis. “Now all you have to do is prove how wrong they are about Joe.”
“That’s all,” Shayne agreed grimly. “The worst hurdle is explaining why Joe was in the room masked at that ungodly hour of the morning.”
“I wondered about that.”
“I know why he was there,” Shayne told her. “But only one other man knows and I can’t expect Arnold Thrip to back up my story by admitting he was planning an insurance fraud.”
When Phyllis wrinkled her smooth brow in perplexity Shayne told her about his interview with the realtor the previous afternoon.
“He no doubt plans to use those threatening notes as his sole reason for asking me to assign a man to his house,” Shayne concluded. “Even his wife thought that’s what it was all about. He probably first got the idea from her insistence that she turn it over to a private detective. Now things have gone wrong and he has a perfect out.”
“Do you think he killed Joe?”
“I have no doubt of it, In perfect sincerity, probably. I’m willing to accept his story as the truth until it’s proved otherwise, but I question the conclusion he drew when he turned on the light and saw his wife strangled and Joe near her bed.”
“You think someone else killed her?”
“That’s the way it has to be. I know why Joe climbed in a window and sneaked up there masked. He must have heard something that made him suspicious—something that drew him into the bedroom—we’ll never know what. A dying moan , maybe, a convulsive movement of stiffening muscles. At any rate, Joe must have made the fatal mistake of stepping aside to investigate—which drew a bullet from the husband who sees his wife lying in bed murdered.”
“It’s horrible.” Phyllis shuddered. “With everybody thinking Joe did it they won’t look any further. And if Mr. Thrip doesn’t tell why Joe was upstairs no one will ever believe he didn’t break in expressly to attack poor Mrs. Thrip .”
“We might as well take it for granted that Thrip isn’t going to tell the truth. When his plan miscarried he even took the precaution of ditching the jewel box and the incriminating thousand-dollar bill inside of it. For which we can’t blame him,” he went on calmly. “Why should he admit the truth? He won’t have to pull the fake theft now. Coming into his wife’s fortune will put him beyond such a necessity in the future. His two youngsters can stop hating their stepmother and start spending her money.”
“What about Carl Meldrum?” Phyllis asked sharply. “Where was he last night?”
“Dorothy Thrip says he left
“Don’t, Michael.” Tears glistened in her wide dark eyes but she met his gaze frankly. “I called up the Herald and told them what I thought about their nasty, lying insinuations.”
Shayne chuckled, then soberly reminded her, “There’s always that log cabin waiting for us in Colorado if I get run out of town.”
“You won’t,” she cried intensely. “You’ll stay right here and clear yourself.”
“It looks bad for the shock troops. I did send Joe Darnell out there, you know.”
“Then he didn’t do what you told him to do—not if he killed Mrs. Thrip .”
“What makes you so positive?”
“Because I know you. You’re not—Oh, Michael! you don’t think he assaulted Mrs. Thrip , do you?”
“Of course not, angel. I know that Darnell didn’t for the same reason you know that I wouldn’t have sent a killer out there.” He paused to empty his coffee mug, then told her about Joe and Dora while she refilled it.
“Joe was on the level,” he went on with a grimace. “He played outside the law but I would trust him further than many men who hide behind legal technicalities instead of using a gun to take what they want. Any man who honestly plans to marry a girl like Dora doesn’t go out and deliberately attack a middle-aged woman.”
“I knew it.” Gladness radiated from Phyllis. “Now all you have to do is prove how wrong they are about Joe.”
“That’s all,” Shayne agreed grimly. “The worst hurdle is explaining why Joe was in the room masked at that ungodly hour of the morning.”
“I wondered about that.”
“I know why he was there,” Shayne told her. “But only one other man knows and I can’t expect Arnold Thrip to back up my story by admitting he was planning an insurance fraud.”
When Phyllis wrinkled her smooth brow in perplexity Shayne told her about his interview with the realtor the previous afternoon.
“He no doubt plans to use those threatening notes as his sole reason for asking me to assign a man to his house,” Shayne concluded. “Even his wife thought that’s what it was all about. He probably first got the idea from her insistence that she turn it over to a private detective. Now things have gone wrong and he has a perfect out.”
“Do you think he killed Joe?”
“I have no doubt of it, In perfect sincerity, probably. I’m willing to accept his story as the truth until it’s proved otherwise, but I question the conclusion he drew when he turned on the light and saw his wife strangled and Joe near her bed.”
“You think someone else killed her?”
“That’s the way it has to be. I know why Joe climbed in a window and sneaked up there masked. He must have heard something that made him suspicious—something that drew him into the bedroom—we’ll never know what. A dying moan , maybe, a convulsive movement of stiffening muscles. At any rate, Joe must have made the fatal mistake of stepping aside to investigate—which drew a bullet from the husband who sees his wife lying in bed murdered.”
“It’s horrible.” Phyllis shuddered. “With everybody thinking Joe did it they won’t look any further. And if Mr. Thrip doesn’t tell why Joe was upstairs no one will ever believe he didn’t break in expressly to attack poor Mrs. Thrip .”
“We might as well take it for granted that Thrip isn’t going to tell the truth. When his plan miscarried he even took the precaution of ditching the jewel box and the incriminating thousand-dollar bill inside of it. For which we can’t blame him,” he went on calmly. “Why should he admit the truth? He won’t have to pull the fake theft now. Coming into his wife’s fortune will put him beyond such a necessity in the future. His two youngsters can stop hating their stepmother and start spending her money.”
“What about Carl Meldrum?” Phyllis asked sharply. “Where was he last night?”
“Dorothy Thrip says he left
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