Give ’Em the Ax

19

Ellery Crail was pacing back and forth in front of our office when Bertha and I came up in the elevator.

His face lit with relief when he saw us. He came running forward and gripped my hand. “I was hoping you’d be here,” he said. “The elevator operator said you folks frequently came in at night, although you didn’t keep the office open after five o’clock.”

Bertha said belligerently, “Well, we got you a settlement, and...”

“Let’s go inside where we can talk,” Crail said.

Bertha latchkeyed the door and we went into the private office.

Bertha went on, “Just like I told you over the telephone. You owe us three hundred dollars more and...”

Crail looked at her as though she might have been talking a foreign language, then he looked at me.

I shook my head and said, “I didn’t tell her anything.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Bertha asked.

Crail took a checkbook from his pocket, pulled out a fountain pen.

“Three hundred dollars,” Bertha said.

Crail looked up at her and said, “Mrs. Cool, I want to thank you people for the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, and I think I owe every bit of my happiness to Donald Lam.”

Bertha’s jaw dropped.

Crail said, “I guess you know what happened — Lam seems to, anyway. I was suspicious of my wife and Stan-berry. I wondered why she was so eager to have me buy the Stanberry Building at a price that my banker said was about three times too high. When she went out yesterday afternoon I — well, I decided to follow her. It was a decision I reached all at once. My car wasn’t there, but I knew that it would be all right with Georgia Rushe if I borrowed her car. I borrowed it.

“I’m not going to tell you all that happened. Lam knows, anyway. I followed my wife. I saw the accident. I saw enough to know that she was deliberately following Stanberry. I went back to the office. Georgia didn’t even know I’d borrowed her car — and then I read about Stanberry being murdered and... well, I put it up to my wife.

“She admitted that Stanberry had been blackmailing her. She wouldn’t tell me what it was about. Well, you know — I wanted to be a strong silent man. I wanted to be an understanding husband. I didn’t ask any questions. I decided to back my wife to the limit. I knew that she’d be called as a witness in that automobile accident. I decided to have the case settled so that it could never be shown that her car was trailing Stanberry’s. I came to you to get the case settled.

“And then Lam showed me how life can’t be lived that way. You can’t sacrifice yourself to keep from hurting someone if by doing so, you’re hurting someone else a great deal more. And... well, I had a talk with her, and this time I wasn’t just a big sucker. I had in the back of my mind the knowledge of Georgia lying unconscious in a hospital, knowing that she had tried to take her life because of me, and I saw a lot of things in a slightly different light. And then Irma started talking about property settlement and was quite businesslike about the whole thing, and I realized that I’d been trapped into marriage simply as a financial investment. I was never so relieved in my life. I gave her a settlement that made her eyes bulge out and told her to get reservations for Reno, and came up here to find Donald Lam.”

Crail took a deep breath and started writing on the check. He picked up a piece of blotting paper, blotted the check, tore it out and tossed it on the desk. He got up and looked at me and there were tears in his eyes. He pushed out his hand and shook hands. Then he walked around the desk and hugged Bertha, leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

I said, “I’m glad you had your showdown, Crail. Your wife didn’t murder Stanberry. It was another woman Stanberry had been blackmailing over the telephone. And if she hadn’t noticed Stanberry’s wrist watch was an hour fast and set it back the whole case might have been simplified — which doesn’t mean your wife wasn’t playing you for a sucker. She was.

“Esther Witson was being blackmailed and was tired of it. She followed Stanberry from the Rimley Rendezvous, determined to have a showdown. She may even have contemplated murder. She saw Stanberry go to this apartment house. She knew Billy Prue lived there. She put two and two together and waited. Then Billy Prue came out. Stanberry didn’t. That made Miss Witson decide to investigate. She went up to Billy Prue’s apartment. The door was open. She went in and saw a wonderful opportunity to get free of Stanberry once and for all. There was a note in his hand saying Billy had gone to a drugstore. She knew that was a lie. She’d seen Billy drive off, paying no attention to the drugstore on the corner. She saw a wonderful opportunity to free herself of Stanberry once and for all. She looked around for a weapon, found a hand ax and hit Stanberry on the head once, hard. Then she got frightened and in a panic wanted to conceal the murder weapon. She sawed off some of the handle so it would fit into her purse, then ditched it in the first car she came to when she got out of the cab. The police found the short piece she’d sawed off the handle still in her purse.”

Crail listened attentively. “Miss Witson, eh? I was afraid she’d bring my wife into it. And I was afraid someone might — oh well, that’s all finished now. I want to get back to the hospital. Good-by and bless you both. I’ve tried to express some of my gratitude in that check. You’ll never know how deeply I am indebted to you.”

Bertha watched him out the door, then grabbed up the check. I saw her greedy little eyes get big and round. “Fry me for an oyster!” she said in an awed voice. “Can me for a sardine!”

I was halfway across the outer office before Bertha came down to earth.

I heard her scream at me. “Goddamn you, Donald Lam! If you’re headed for the Rimley Rendezvous, remember you can’t charge any more cigarettes on the expense account. The case is closed.”

I paused with my hand on the door. I couldn’t resist a parting shot. “And if I’m not home tonight, don’t worry about it,” I said.

I whipped the door shut before Bertha could think of the answer to that one.