The Wrong Gun

7

Tracy Garvin could hardly contain herself. “Don’t you see?” she insisted. “It all fits.”

“What all fits?”

They were in Steve’s room on the third floor front, a room theoretically less desirable in that it overlooked the driveway and the front lawn instead of the backyard and the bay. Unlike Burdett, Steve had not complained. As far as he was concerned, the view he had was magnificent. Not that he gave a damn about the view anyway.

Nor had Tracy complained about her room, which was next door to his and commanded the same view. Instead, the minute she’d been installed in it she’d come banging on Steve’s door to advance her theories.

“Are you kidding?” Tracy said. “It’s the last piece of the mystery. Here’s Burdett, Timberlaine’s hated rival. He’s here for the weekend and he’s just switched his room.”

“So?”

“So?” Tracy said. “Don’t be a dunce. What’s the next thing that happens? Either he gets murdered, or the person he switched rooms with gets murdered.”

Steve looked at her. “Why?”

“Why? Why do you think? Because it screws everything up.”

Steve frowned. “You’ll pardon me, but that’s hardly an answer.”

“Oh, come on. You know what I mean. Timberlaine hates Burdett. If Burdett gets killed, Timberlaine’s the main suspect. Timberlaine’s gun’s been stolen, and he thinks someone’s trying to frame him. If someone’s going to frame him, what better way than to kill Burdett? Can’t you see that?”

“Of course.”

“And now Burdett’s switched rooms. Which, in the vernacular, fucks everything up. If the murderer kills Burdett, Timberlaine would have an alibi if he didn’t know Burdett had switched rooms. On the other hand, if the killer kills the guy Burdett switched rooms with, then Timberlaine is dorked unless he can prove he knew Burdett switched rooms. See what I mean?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Plus, you got a third joker in the deck. This fiance. Did you know Timberlaine’s daughter had a fiance?”

“I didn’t know Timberlaine had a daughter.”

Tracy rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. Timberlaine’s a widower, he has one daughter. Apparently she has a fiance. So what about him?”

“What about him?”

“Suppose he’s murdered?”

“Oh, come on.”

“No, it fits just fine. He’s staying in Burdett’s room. Suppose he’s killed. Then the cops can figure Timberlaine did it, thinking he was Burdett.”

“Give me a break.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Come on. The fiance’s been there for some time. Timberlaine would know where he’s staying.”

“Why should he? What’s he got to do with room arrangements? This guy Martin seems to be in charge of it. So there’s no reason he’d have to know, and the cops can figure he did it.”

Steve sighed. “Oh, dear.”

“Plus, there’s the other way around.”

“What other way around?”

“The fiance gets killed and the cops figure it’s because he was sleeping in Burdett’s room. But actually he gets killed for himself.”

“What?”

“I mean, he’s the guy the killer meant to kill.”

“What killer?”

“Timberlaine. Who killed him to keep him from marrying his daughter.”

“Oh, good lord.”

“What’s wrong with that motive?”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?”

“Murder is extreme.”

Steve took a breath. “Tracy.”

“What?”

“If Timberlaine did it, who substituted guns?”

“Timberlaine did it himself.”

“Why?”

“As a smoke screen. To divert suspicion from himself.”

“Good lord.”

“No,” Tracy said, excitedly. “It’s perfect. He goes to you. He gives you the substituted gun. He gets you to compare the bullets. Puts you in a position to establish he doesn’t have the original gun. So when the murder’s committed with the original gun-as he intended all along-you can show that he didn’t have it in his possession.” Tracy nodded in agreement with herself. “That would explain it.”

“Explain what?”

“The retainer. He’s got ten thousand dollars invested in you. What do you think it’s for? A retainer? Hell no. It’s an alibi.”

Steve frowned.

“Well,” Tracy said. “What do you think of that?”

Steve took a breath. “Tracy,” he said. “I think you’ve got a vivid imagination.”

She opened her mouth to protest. Steve held up his hand. “I’m not putting it down. I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying what you’re giving me is a scenario straight out of a detective book. There’s nothing wrong with detective books, but they’re usually a lot more interesting than real life. Otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten published. That doesn’t mean you’re wrong and it doesn’t mean nothing’s going to happen this weekend. All I’m saying is, the odds are the disappearance of the gun is nothing more than that-a disappearance-and has nothing to do with the people staying here. And even if it did, absolutely nothing is going to happen to them on this particular weekend.”

Steve smiled. “See what I mean?”

There came the sound of a gunshot.