The D.A. Breaks an Egg

6

The county car came to a stop in front of the big, old-fashioned house on Chestnut.

The place was ablaze with light now and as Selby and Brandon walked up the steps to the porch they were held in the illumination of a porch light so brilliant that great swarms of night-flying insects were circling around the shielded globe.

“They certainly believe in lots of light,” Brandon said, as he pressed the bell button.

Mrs. Lennox opened the door. “Well,” she said, “Sheriff Brandon,” and then added after a significant moment, “at last.”

Brandon smiled. “The city police take care of you all right?”

“I don’t know what you mean by taking care of us. They came out here and snooped around and went out with flashlights and looked around the grounds, and then got in their car and drove away. I don’t know what they were looking for.”

“Didn’t you report a burglar?”

“Yes, hours ago.”

“Well, that’s probably what they were looking for.”

“Well, I hope they didn’t expect to find him still here in the yard, sitting down and waiting under the window. After all, a burglar isn’t paid by the taxpayers. He isn’t elected to office. He has to get out and rustle, and...”

Brandon smiled. “Well, if the burglar isn’t here, the place to look for him is somewhere else. Perhaps that’s why the police went away.”

“Well,” she said, “I didn’t mean it to sound that way, but my nerves are all upset... Who’s that with you? Is that the district attorney?”

“That’s right,” Selby said. “I’m Doug Selby.”

“Well, I’m Mrs. Lennox. Won’t you gentlemen come in? I’m sorry if I’ve been cross and irritable, but I’m naturally as nervous as a frightened cat. Do come right in and sit down. The folks are all in here, right in this room.”

She ushered them into the big room, and said, “This is Steve, my son; Moana, my daughter; Dorothy Clifton, my son’s fiancée... No, no, not Steve’s, my other son, Horace. He’s back East.

“Now, the housekeeper was here, but I sent her out. I see no reason for the cook and the housekeeper to be in on this discussion at all. It has a tendency to make for informality and that’s bad for discipline. They were asleep and didn’t know a thing until they heard Moana screaming. They sleep over the garage.”

“Can you tell us just what happened?” Brandon asked Moana.

She said, in a dull voice, as though she had grown tired of repeating the story, “I went to bed. It was a warm night. I left the window open. I wakened, and thought someone was in the room. I had that most peculiar feeling, and then I heard noises.”

“What sort of noises?” Brandon asked.

“Noises as though things were being moved around on the top of the dresser, and then I distinctly heard a drawer being pulled open.”

“So what did you do?”

“I’m not entirely clear as to just what happened. I seem to have been a little dazed by the fright and the shock.”

“Poor child. Of course she was,” Mrs. Lennox said. “It’s a horrible experience. Good heavens, we might have all been murdered right in our beds.”

“Well, as nearly as you can,” Brandon said, “tell us what you think you did.”

“Well, I think I said something. I think I said, ‘Who’s there?’ or ‘Mother, is that you?’ or something, and no one said anything but the noise stopped, and everything was tense and ominously silent.”

“Then what?”

“Then I could distinctly hear someone breathing. I was absolutely paralyzed. I was so weak with fright that my mouth was dry. I felt weak and numb all over.”

“So what did you do?”

“I finally managed to scream. I know that. I could hear screams, but they sounded as though they were coming from someone else. I seemed to have no volition. I screamed, and as soon as I screamed, I knew that was the worst thing I could do, because I was afraid then he’d choke me; but I couldn’t help it, I just kept right on screaming. That frightened him. He ran from the room. I locked my door.”

“We don’t usually have crimes of that type in Madison City,” Selby said. “Would you mind showing us the room where it happened?”

She hesitated.

Mrs. Lennox said, “The police went in there and dusted a few things for fingerprints. They didn’t find any.” Her tone indicated that if the place had been fairly crawling with fingerprints, the police would still have failed to have made any significant discovery.

“Well, we might take a look,” Doug Selby said, “just to get familiar with the surroundings.”

Mrs. Lennox looked at him curiously. “Isn’t it unusual for the district attorney to be around with the sheriff at this hour of the night on a burglary...”

“We think it may connect up with something very serious.”

“Well, good heavens! Don’t you think this is serious?”

“Just what was missing?” Brandon interpolated hastily.

“Some diamond earrings that have been in the family for generations,” Mrs. Lennox said. “Moana’s great aunt left them to her. There was also a brooch set with rubies and diamonds, and a pendant.”

“Can you put a value on the things that are missing?”

“I would say at least two thousand dollars.”

“Perhaps a thousand dollars if you had to sell them,” Moana said. “They could never be duplicated — not the antique stuff.”

“Two thousand, if it’s a penny,” Mrs. Lennox snapped. “I guess I know what those things are worth.”

“Well, let’s take a look,” Selby said.

Mrs. Lennox led them into Moana’s bedroom. “This is just the way the poor girl left it,” she said. “I suppose we should at least have made the bed, but... well, I thought you should see it exactly as it was.”

Brandon looked the place over casually at first, then with greater interest.

Selby stood by the doorway for a few minutes, then entered the room.

“There’s a screen on the window?” Selby asked.

“Yes, you can see where he cut through the screen, so he could reach the catch.”

“You didn’t hear the sound of the knife cutting through the screen?” Selby asked Moana, who was standing in the doorway as though reluctant to enter the room.

“Of course not,” Mrs. Lennox snapped. “Otherwise, she’d have screamed then and he’d have run away. She told you that the man was here at the bureau when she wakened.”

Selby said to Moana, “You kept your jewels in this upper right-hand bureau drawer?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t keep the drawer locked?”

“No.”

“Our servants have always been scrupulously honest. I’ve never employed anyone who couldn’t give the highest references,” Mrs. Lennox said.

“And you didn’t see any light?” Selby asked. “Just heard the sounds of someone moving around.”

“That’s right.”

Selby glanced at Brandon. “We’re investigating another matter, Mrs. Lennox, and we think that perhaps the two crimes may be related. In other words, they might be the work of the same person. Now, do any of you happen to know a Daphne Arcola from Windrift, Montana?”

“That name again,” Mrs. Lennox said. “She’s a stranger. We’ve never heard of her. What makes you think we know her?”

“We’ve traced a telephone call to this number.”

“Then there’s some mistake. None of us know anyone by that name. Why is she so important?”

“Because she was murdered tonight in the park — stabbed.”

“Murder!” Mrs. Lennox exclaimed. “What’s the place coming to? A murder and a burglary in one night!”

“She might have used another name,” Selby said.

Silence greeted that remark.

“Well,” Selby said, “there may have been a mistake in the number which was given us.”

“I’m certain there must have been, Mr. Selby.”

“So we’ll leave you and see if we can get a line on the jewelry. Do you suppose you could make rough sketches of the jewelry and send them to the sheriff’s office?”

“Of course. Moana is very talented with art work. We’ll send you sketches the very first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you, and now good night.”

“Good morning,” Mrs. Lennox corrected him.

Outside Brandon turned to Selby. “What do you make of it, Doug?”

“The jewelry?”

“Yes.”

“An inside job,” Selby said. “Only someone who knew exactly where the stuff was could have worked in the dark.”

“Check,” Brandon said. “I was tempted to tell them it’s an inside job.”

“Not just yet,” Selby said. “We’ll wait awhile.”