The Case of the Turning Tide

Chapter 15

Duryea found Milred dressed and ready for the movie. “Where,” she asked, “is Gramps?”

Duryea said, “He started out to do some detective work, and I didn’t have the heart to stop him. It’s the sort of wild-goose chase that will keep him out of mischief.”

“What’s the goose?”

“He’s looking for a public stenographer whose initials are ‘A.R.’ He’s inclined to favor Alice, Alberta, or Ailene.”

“Where do the initials ‘A.R.’ enter into the case?”

“Addison Stearne sent a letter to his office on Saturday — or rather the carbon copy of a letter. Down in the lower left-hand corner were the initials of a stenographer, ‘A.R.’ There’ some evidence that a young woman was aboard the yacht Saturday. Gramps thinks she may have typed the letter.”

“Well,” Milred Duryea asked, “what’s the joke? Am I dumb, or is it that I just don’t see things?”

“Want to go to that movie?” he asked.

She said, “I’m all dressed up. My nose is powdered, my lipstick applied carefully, and I’m wearing a hat that looks like a cross between a last year’s bird nest and a flower pot that’s been stepped on by an elephant. If you think I’m going to stay home, Frank Duryea...”

“Okay, let’s go places and do things.”

“Okay, but what’s the joke about the stenographer’s initials?”

Duryea said, “It seems not to have occurred to Gramps yet that ‘A.R.’ are the initials of Arthur Right, and Right was formerly Stearne’s secretary, and frequently did typing for him when they were on yachting trips.”

She thought that over for a few seconds, then said, “Well, I hope you don’t have to get Gramps out of jail.”

“Why?”

“You forget he’s a Wiggins.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Turn him loose in this city,” she said, “looking for public stenographers whose first names are Alice, Alberta, Ailene and Aphrodite — well, of course, he’s slowed down a good bit, but still — Did you notice the way he was all slicked up?”

“Did If He’s a mighty spry-looking gent when he gets that blue serge suit out of moth balls.”

“Why’d you let him go on a wild-goose chase like that, Frank?”

“Oh, just to give him his fling. It’s a thrill to him. At that, he made a couple of deductions from the evidence that were pretty good. Come on, let’s go.”

They got as far as the front door. As Duryea switched on the porch light, an automobile came to a stop at the curb. A man and a woman got out, came toward them.

“Mr. Duryea?” the woman asked,

Duryea raised his hat, bowed.

Emotion constricted the woman’s vocal cords so that her voice sounded harsh and high-pitched. “We simply must see you for a moment,” she said. “We’ll try not to detain you.”

Duryea hesitated. “I have an appointment. I...”

“I’m Mrs. Right,” she interrupted, “the widow of C. Arthur Right.”

That simple statement carried enough weight to insure a granting of the woman’s request. Duryea’s glance at his wife was an implicit shrug of the shoulders. He opened the front door. Milred went in, switching on lights. Duryea followed his visitors into the living room.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Right said, “that we interfered with your plans, but I’ve driven up from Los Angeles. I simply had to see you. I...”

The man said, quietly, competently, “If you’ll just go ahead and tell him, Pearl.”

Duryea looked inquiringly across at her escort. The man introduced himself. “Hilbers,” he said.

“The first name?”

“Warren. I’m Mrs. Right’s brother.”

Duryea said to Mrs. Right, “I can appreciate what a shock this has been to you, Mrs. Right. However, I presume you didn’t come here to listen to condolences.”

“I did not. I came here to give you some evidence I think you should have.”

“What is it?”

“I... well, you see...” She glanced at Milred. “I’m going to have to tell you something of the setup. Addison Stearne dominated my husband. Arthur thought that Addison Stearne was sort of a god.”

Warren Hilbers said quietly, “Pearl, why don’t you give him the information you want him to have, then let Mr. Duryea ask the questions? If you’ll be brief, it is quite possible he can still make his appointment.”

“You tell him, Warren.”

Hilbers took a cigarette from his pocket. He lit a match, moved it back and forth until he had lit the cigarette. His eyes met those of the district attorney steadily. He said simply, “She thinks her husband killed Addison Stearne, and then committed suicide.”

Duryea frowned. “But I understood Mrs. Right to say that he worshiped...”

Hilbers interrupted without seeming to do so. His voice had a certain timbre which made it cut across the thread of conversation as effectively as though he had shouted down the district attorney’s comments. Yet he had not raised his voice from the ordinary conversational level. “There was another factor about which my sister dislikes to speak. She thinks that, in a way, she’s responsible. I’ve tried to tell her one person is never responsible for the acts of another, but she’s nervous and upset about it. She thinks the whole thing may have happened because of something she said... Go ahead, Pearl, tell him the whole story.”

“In order to say that which I have to tell you,” Mrs. Right said, “it’s necessary for me to try and be very fair to a woman whom I hate.”

Duryea bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment of her statement, giving her a silent invitation to proceed.

“The relationship between Addison Stearne and Nita Moline,” Mrs. Right said, “was rather peculiar. I thought it was founded on an intimacy. I realize now that there is some possibility the man regarded himself, in a way, as her father, and...”

“Go ahead, Pearl,” Hilbers said as she hesitated.

“And,” Mrs. Right went on, “that he actually was her father.”

Duryea kept any expression whatever from showing on his face.

“Miss Moline is a very peculiar young woman. She is very poised, and she knows exactly what she wants. I don’t know whether you’re familiar with that type, Mr. Duryea, but it’s a deadly combination in a woman. Men are fascinated by that calm poise. I think at first it arouses their interest because it challenges them.”

Hilbers broke the thread of silence which followed her re-mark by saying in his peculiarly powerful voice, “Never mind the philosophy, Pearl. Mr. Duryea wants to know what happened. Your husband was desperately in love with Nita Mo-line. She didn’t return his affection. Now go on, Pearl, and get it over with.”

Mrs. Right said nervously, “Of course, that’s one of the things a man doesn’t consult his wife about — but I knew. Arthur had worshiped the ground Addison Stearne walked on. Everything that Addison did was all right in Arthur’s eyes. Well, Addison kept throwing Nita Moline and Arthur together. Addison hated me. He wanted to break up our marriage. He was very, very successful. Arthur fell madly in love with Nita Moline.”

“I don’t know when Arthur first realized how far he’d succumbed to Stearne’s influence. I don’t know when I first realized it, but Arthur and I had been drifting apart. I’d told him dozens of times when Addison was trying to come between us, trying to split us up. At first, he laughed at the idea. Later on, he’d fly into a rage whenever I said anything against Addison Stearne. So finally we had a sort of tacit understanding that when he was going somewhere with Addison Stearne, he could just go right ahead, and I’d find something else to do. It was that which kept me from realizing until recently that Addison was throwing Arthur and Nita together as much as he possibly could. Then it dawned on me all at once.”

“Tell him how you found out, Pearl,” her brother said.

“My husband told me.”

“When was this?” Duryea asked.

“Last Friday. He told me that we’d been drifting apart, that he thought it was foolish to continue trying to keep up the pretense, that he hadn’t loved me for a long time, but that recently he’d fallen in love with someone else. I insisted that he tell me who it was, and then was when I learned for the first time.

“Well, naturally, I was angry and hurt. I don’t think that it was because my heart was broken. I guess some of it was because my vanity was hurt, and I tried to hurt him. I knew him well enough to know the one thing I could say which would hurt him. Perhaps you know enough to understand how it is, Mr. Duryea. When people have been really intimate and have one of those bitter quarrels, they try to tear each other’s emotions to shreds. They want to hurt. But I wouldn’t have said it, if I hadn’t thought it was the truth.”

“What did you say?” Duryea asked.

“I made a remark about his being a convenient hitching post for Addison Stearne’s cast-off mistress.”

For a moment, there was silence in the room.

“Then what?” Duryea asked.

She said, “Good heavens, the man certainly should have had eyes in his head. But apparently the idea struck him for the first time, and it struck him like a blow. I never saw him like that. His face went absolutely white. I could see from the way he stared at me that at last the truth was dawning in his mind. There had been so many, many things that indicated it, and he had been so blind to them. When they were pointed out to him, and he saw them all at once, it was a terrible emotional shock.”

Hilbers rushed to his sister’s defense. “The point is,” he explained to Duryea, “that Pearl was absolutely sincere, and heaven knows she had plenty of grounds to suspect that was the case. It wasn’t until this morning that Pearl and Miss Moline had a talk, and Pearl learned for the first time that there was... well, that there might be another side to the story. Personally, I still don’t believe it. I think it’s simply an ingenious explanation that Nita Moline concocted after she knew there was no possibility she could be contradicted. I think it’s something she and her lawyer had thought up, to dress up a nice case for her if someone contests the will. The point is that it’s upset Pearl so very terribly.”

“You know how it is when women fight. They claw at each other, and...” He broke off and glanced with quick apology at Milred.

“Don’t mind me,” Milred said with a grin. “I never bar any holds myself.”

“Well,” Hilbers said lamely, “Pearl and Miss Moline had one of those fights this morning. Then I came to the house and found Pearl in tears. She’d been thinking over what Miss Moline said, and had come to the conclusion that if there was any truth in it, she’d done something terrible in telling Arthur what she had. The more she continued to brood over it, the more she got the idea she’d been responsible for everything that happened. I’ve told her time and time again that the evidence shows it couldn’t have been murder and suicide. As I understand it, it was very plainly a double murder. I don’t think Miss Moline or her relationship to Addison Stearne entered into it at all. But Pearl has been driving herself frantic. This afternoon she had hysterics, and I decided to bring her up here, let her tell her story, and see if there’s any chance her idea of what happened might be right. In that way, she’ll know definitely. I think anything would be better than this suspense.”

“I know it’s right,” Pearl said in a voice which somehow carried conviction. “As soon as I made that statement to Arthur, he stood stunned for several seconds, then he turned without a word and walked upstairs. I heard him open and close the bureau drawer. For a while the significance of that didn’t occur to me. Then he left the house without saying anything to me. I kept thinking back over our quarrel, and suddenly the significance of that bureau drawer occurred to me. I ran upstairs and opened the one where he kept his gun. The gun was gone.”

“Then what did you do?” Duryea asked.

“Then I tried to get in touch with Addison Stearne, and Addison wouldn’t see me. I know he was in his office, but he’d left word that I was never to be permitted to get in touch with him.”

“Did you actually see him take the gun?” Duryea asked.

“No, of course not. But I heard him open and close that bureau drawer, and then the gun was gone.”

“I keep telling her,” Warren Hilbers said, “that she’s torturing her imagination. Arthur could have taken that gun out of the drawer any time within a month and for a dozen different reasons. She’s never even bothered to check up on it before. It may be in his car — in his office. He might have given it away.”

“But the evidence doesn’t indicate a murder and suicide,” Duryea said.

“Of course it doesn’t,” Hilbers said. “Only now Pearl thinks...”

“Stop it, Warren,” Mrs. Right interrupted. “There’s been altogether too much of that. We’re not going to say anything more.”

Hilbers said cautiously, “I’ll put it this way, Mr. Duryea. Pearl feels that Arthur would have left a note vindicating himself to the world, explaining the reason he did what he was doing, and, above all, explaining to Nita Moline.”

“Now, then, if Pearl is right, and if it was a murder and suicide, the gun is missing. That note is missing. Personally, I’m absolutely convinced Pearl has worked herself into a state of hysteria. I can’t believe that...”

“Oh, but it was murder and suicide,” Pearl Right broke in. “I know it was. That much I’ll swear to. I saw that look in Arthur’s eyes. Something happened to the evidence. It was removed.”

“By evidence, you mean the gun?” Duryea asked.

“And the note. I know he would have left a note, probably on the typewriter, because it would have been long. He wouldn’t have left one of those short, cryptic notes, saying, ‘I had to do this,’ or ‘I did this because I found out something about the woman I loved.’ Not Arthur. He’d have killed Addison Stearne, then sat down at the typewriter, and composed a long letter. It would have gone back to his first association with Addison Stearne, would have told of his love for Nita Moline, of his suspicions, that he couldn’t go on facing life, knowing that the woman he loved had been the mistress of the man he had placed on a pedestal, and he’d probably have left... well...”

“Left what?” Duryea asked as she hesitated.

“Probably left a will disinheriting me,” she admitted.

“And that will’s disappeared?”

“Apparently.”

“You haven’t found any will in his papers?”

“No. That’s another thing that shows what he had in mind. He’d drawn a will, placed it in a sealed envelope, and left it in the hands of his banker. The banker telephoned me about it. He seemed rather worried, because Friday afternoon Arthur called and got the envelope containing the will. He said he wanted to make a new one.”

“Did that other will leave everything to you?” Duryea asked.

“I don’t know. The banker said it was about six months old, so I presume it didn’t. There’s probably some provision made, but... well, you see it was about six months ago... The banker told me the first will had been made about two years ago, then about six months ago Arthur said he wanted to change it. He withdrew the envelope, and about three days later substituted another one, then Friday afternoon he wanted to change the will again.”

“The banker doesn’t know what was in that other will?”

“No. It was in a sealed envelope.”

Hilbers said, “I’m hoping you’ll understand our position, Mr. Duryea. Pearl has had this preying on her mind. Even if she’s correct in her idea of what happened, I can’t see where she’s at all to blame — and I can’t think there’s any possibility she’s right. Let’s suppose that Addison Stearne was Nita Moline’s father or stood in the position of a father to her. That would account for his relationship with her. It would also ac-count for the things he’d given her. Now then, it isn’t as though Arthur walked up to Stearne, suddenly pulled a gun and shot him. Arthur went on the yacht with Stearne. They were together for at least several hours before the shooting took place. That means that even if Arthur had been carrying the gun and had intended to shoot Stearne, he would have given Stearne some opportunity to make explanations. Now that’s logical, isn’t it?”

“That is very logical,” Duryea said.

“And if Stearne had been the girl’s father, he only needed to say to Arthur, ‘You’re crazy, Arthur. I’m the girl’s father,’ or ‘I look on her as my daughter,’ and that would have settled the whole business.”

“That’s a very conclusive and logical point,” Duryea admitted.

Pearl Right said, with a note of hysteria in her voice, “You’re just trying to make me feel that it’s all right.”

Her brother said impatiently, “Don’t be a fool, Pearl. We’re talking facts and figures.” He turned to Duryea parenthetically, “I’ve been all over this with her a dozen times, but she won’t listen to me. I thought that perhaps you could reassure her. She knows that it’s your duty to investigate what happened. You’re certainly not going to overlook any possibilities, simply to reassure my sister, are you?”

Duryea smiled. “Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I’ve told her. Now let’s get back to the evidence. If Nita Moline was Addison Stearne’s mistress, and if Arthur accused Stearne of that, and Stearne admitted it and Arthur shot him, I can’t see where Pearl is in any way responsible.”

Duryea said cautiously, “You’re right about one thing. If Stearne had any explanation to make, he must have had an opportunity to make it before Mr. Right shot him.”

Warren Hilbers said, “As I see it, there are several possible explanations. One is that Miss Moline’s connection with Addison Stearne had nothing to do with it, that it was a double murder. The other is that Arthur killed him and committed suicide. But if that happened, it is absolutely impossible that the relationship between Miss Moline and Addison Stearne could have been as innocent and platonic as she now pretends.”

“And if that were the case,” Duryea said, “you have some theory about what happened afterwards, Mr. Hilbers?”

“Yes,” Hilbers said. “I think Miss Moline...”

“Warren, stop,” Pearl interrupted. “There’s been too much careless talk already.”

Hilbers paid no attention to her, but kept on talking, his manner completely dominating the situation. “Under those circumstances, Arthur would have left a note, and, of course, the gun would have been very much in evidence. There is only one person who would have profited by removing the gun and destroying the note. That person is Miss Moline. In that event, she must have been on the yacht long enough to have switched things around to suit herself, destroying the evidence she didn’t want found, and planting evidence she did want found.”

“As I see it, if Miss Moline had been Addison Stearne’s mistress and was breaking up Pearl’s home, Pearl certainly had a right to say what she did to her husband. If it wasn’t true, Addison Stearne certainly had every opportunity to set Arthur right. Personally, I think Pearl is torturing herself needlessly.”

Duryea turned to Mrs. Right and asked, “You went to Catalina Saturday?”

“Yes. I tried to see Addison Stearne Friday night. I couldn’t see him. I gave my brother a ring and told him I was very much disturbed, that I wanted to ask his advice about something.”

“But you didn’t tell me about missing the gun, Pearl.”

“No. I didn’t tell you about that until Sunday.”

Hilbers said, “She told me about the quarrel and what she’d said. I suggested she let the thing work itself out. She’d tried to see Stearne, and that was all she could do. Of course, at that time, Mr. Duryea, we had no intimation there might be any other relationship between Stearne and Miss Moline than that which my sister had suspected.”

“When did you go to Catalina?” Duryea asked.

Hilbers said, “We left about eight o’clock, wasn’t it, Pearl?”

“Not that early. About eight-thirty. I left the house about seven-thirty. I don’t think we actually started over in the speedboat until around eight-thirty.”

Duryea asked, just as a matter of course, “You were together after that?”

“Yes,” Hilbers said, and then added quickly, “Now wait a minute — if you want to be absolutely accurate. There were short periods when we weren’t together — perhaps fifteen-minute or half-hour intervals.”

“And I took a nap Saturday afternoon,” Pearl Right said. “I was asleep for over an hour, perhaps an hour and a half.”

Duryea smiled. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to check up on you that closely. I just wanted to know generally.”

Mrs. Right said, “We went over to Catalina. We cruised around a little bit, and then Warren got us a cottage.”

“Do you remember where?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know exactly...”

“It was Mrs. Raleigh’s cottage,” Hilbers interposed. “It’s owned by a Mrs. Elvira Raleigh. I rent it occasionally when I’m over there with a yachting party. You know a speedboat is not like a cruiser, and even so, it’s nice to have a place on shore where you can bathe in fresh water.”

“When did you leave Catalina?”

“Sunday night. That’s another thing that you should know about, Mr. Duryea. When Pearl left the house Saturday morning, she didn’t intend to come back. She left a note for her husband. The note said that she had put up with his indifference, with his friendship for a man who had been deliberately trying to break up their home, that now Arthur had come to her with the suggestion she get a divorce so he could marry the cast-off mistress of that man, that she had decided to decline with thanks, that as far as she was concerned, Arthur could try and get a divorce right here in California, and that she would contest that divorce. Moreover, she intended to sue Addison Stearne for alienation of affections, and would file a suit Monday morning.”

“Where did you leave that note?” Duryea asked Mrs. Right.

“Where Arthur couldn’t fail to see it, right on the top of his dresser.”

“Could the servants have seen it?”

“No. It was in an envelope.”

“Was the envelope sealed?”

“No. I didn’t seal it,” Mrs. Right said, after thinking a moment.

Hilbers said, “Sunday evening, just as it was getting dark, a messenger came to the bungalow where we were staying over in Catalina. He said Pearl was wanted on the phone. Pearl went to the telephone. It was Nita Moline. She said that something terrible had happened, that Pearl must get home right away and that if Pearl had left any messages she wouldn’t want to have made public, she had better get home and destroy them.”

“How could she have learned about that message?” Duryea asked.

“That’s what we want to know. As I see it, there’s only one way. Arthur must have been at the house some time after seven-thirty Saturday morning. He must have read that message, must have put it back in the envelope, must have seen Nita Moline and told her what was in it.”

“You found the message there when you returned?” Duryea asked Mrs. Right.

She nodded.

Hilbers said, “Nita Moline has been pretty shrewd. She wanted to keep from being smeared in the press. She knew that letter was there. She was afraid that if Pearl didn’t show up, the officers would search the house and find it.”

“Have you asked Miss Moline how she knew the message was there?” Duryea asked Mrs. Right.

“No. I don’t think she was quite as definite as Warren makes it sound. She simply intimated that she knew I had left the house without intending to return and said something to the effect that if I’d left any message, it might be a good plan to go home and get it. Something like that. I can’t remember the exact words.”

Hilbers looked at his watch and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Mr. Duryea, we’ve taken up a lot more of your time than I had intended, but I did want Pearl to get this off her mind, and I’d like to have you tell her that the evidence at least indicates that Addison Stearne had every opportunity to explain things to Arthur Right.”

Duryea said to Mrs. Right, “That’s absolutely correct. The evidence indicates that Arthur Right was on the yacht with Mr. Stearne for some little time. He either sailed with him for the yacht harbor, or else he joined him here in Santa Delbarra some little time before the murder was committed. At least, that’s the way the evidence looks now. If your husband had decided to kill Addison Stearne, it would certainly seem that Stearne had every opportunity to explain everything he could have explained. And, of course, if your assumption of murder and suicide is correct, the evidence has been tampered with. If that has been done,” and Duryea’s mouth suddenly became firm, “it’s a crime in itself, and the person who would do it is entitled to no consideration whatever.”

Hilbers flashed him a quick glance of gratitude.

Pearl Right said, almost tearfully, “Promise you’ll do one thing, Mr. Duryea. Please, please, try to find out whether Addison Stearne really was her father or... well, you know, taking the position of a father — or... or...”

“Whether she was his mistress,” Hilbers interposed.

She nodded.

Hilbers turned once more to Milred. “I hope,” he said, “we’re forgiven for intruding on your evening. It means so much to us. I realize how...”

She impulsively gave him her hand. “Don’t apologize, Mr. Hilbers. I think you did just the right thing.”

Duryea escorted them to the door. When they had left, he turned to his wife. “Well?” he asked.

She said, “I could sympathize with both of them, Frank. It’s a terrible ordeal for her, and I think he’s splendid. Do you suppose that she’s right, and the evidence was tampered with?”

“There’s a very good chance,” Duryea admitted. “Let’s pull a Gramps Wiggins.”

“How?”

“Go down and look that yacht over, just a quiet checkup before we tell anyone about this.”

“Given up the idea of the movie?”

“Yes. The second show will have started fifteen minutes ago. We’ll see that picture show tomorrow night. It’s on at the Mission Theater tonight, tomorrow, and Wednesday, then it goes to the El Cajon and stays there until the end of the week.”

“Come on,” Milred said. “What’s holding us back? After all, I’m a Wiggins, you know — or has Gramps told you?”