Read Online West of Guam by Raoul Whitfield - Free Book Online Page B

That is the way he would kill—my poor girl.”
    Jo Gar shrugged. Juan Arragon, a puzzled expression in his eyes, spoke in a hard voice:
    “He will not get too far away. We have notified the Constabulary.”
    The Island detective stood near a window of the office. He shook his head.
    “Parker is not beyond the city—the Constabulary will not find him,” he said. “I am sure of that.”
    Carejo got heavily to his feet. He blinked at Jo Gar.
    “If you are crossing me—I will make trouble for you,” he breathed. “Parker is the murderer of my girl. The police can force you to tell what you know—”
    Jo Gar said slowly: “The police can force me to tell nothing, Señor Carejo. They attempted such a thing, some years ago—and failed. I am not crossing you. You have retained me to find your daughter. I have found her. But I shall go farther—I shall find her murderer. Perhaps you would like to beat him, now that you cannot beat her.”
    Arragon’s body tensed at his last words. His eyes went to those of the dead girl’s father. Carejo’s face was flushed beneath the tan. He said hoarsely:
    “You mock me. It is cruel. I am sorry for those words. I go now to my casa —I wish to be alone. But the American Parker—he is the strangler of—”
    His voice had risen shrilly. Now it died. He moved from the office of Juan Arragon without speaking to either man. He went slowly down the wooden steps. Jo Gar closed the door of the office, took a chair.
    “The American Parker did not strangle the girl, Juan,” he said quietly. “I have been very busy since leaving the vicinity of the Casa Club. I do not think that Parker, at this moment, knows Carmen is dead.”
    Arragon wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. His eyes were narrowed on Jo Gar’s.
    “Who did murder her, Jo?” he asked.
    The Island detective shook his head. “I had thought it was Vincente,” he said steadily, and smiled at the surprise in Arragon’s eyes. “But that was wrong, and I did not think that way for much time. But I have learned some things. Carejo threatened to kill his daughter if she again saw Parker. The house-boy has told me that. She has seen Parker several times since the first threat was made. Two days ago Vincente told her that he would kill Parker and beat her—if she again saw the American. This morning, early, a note was given to the house-boy by Parker. He delivered it to the girl—she has been giving the boy money for such service. It was just before dawn—and it was still dark when the boy saw her creep from the house. She was next seen dead.”
    Arragon shrugged. “It does not look good for Parker,” he said. Jo Gar smiled with his eyes half closed. He spoke tonelessly.
    “I do not say that Parker could not have strangled the girl—he is strong enough. He has lived long enough around the Islands to know how such things are done with rope. But I say he did not kill her. There were prints of naked feet—and of feet on which there were shoes—in the palmetto growth. There were too many footprints to be of use. But what was Parker’s motive, Juan?”
    The police lieutenant shrugged. “She searched for him all day—at evening she found him. She told him it was the end. They must not see each other. She was afraid of her father. It was a crime of passion. If Parker could not have her—no one else should have her. Perhaps he had been drinking. They were alone, on a path of the palmetto jungle. He acted quickly—got away. There are many such crimes.”
    Jo Gar lighted one of his thin, brown-papered cigarettes. He nodded. “There are many such, but this was not one,” he said. “Carmen has been motherless for more than a dozen years. She hated her father, Vincente. She would not tell Parker that she would never see him again. She loved him—and she must have known that he could take care of himself.”
    Arragon said: “Why do you say she hated Vincente?”
    “I heard her screams,” the Island detective replied