Postmark Murder (34 page)

Laura said huskily, “What deal?”

“A very simple deal.” Matt picked up the kitten and stroked his chin. The kitten lifted blue eyes and purred. “Jonny was the motive, Jonny and the money. The first Conrad was the real one, the second was the impostor.”

“You said—Blick.”

“His name was John Buck. This morning Peabody questioned him. He stuck to his story all right, insisted he was Stanislowski; but Peabody thought he was scared. Peabody decided to explore the possibilities. He said that obviously any impostor would have to know something about the real Conrad and about the money, or somebody would have to tell him all the details, like that song and Jonny. He said that if somebody told him about it, then that somebody was a sort of master mind—cooking up the deal in the first place, making all the plans and then employing an impostor to do the job. Therefore the impostor would have to be somebody who was available, somebody who could be found pretty readily. He would have to be somebody, too, who spoke Polish and might already know that song, and somebody without scruples. The first line of inquiry for such a man was Charlie’s factory; Peabody drew a blank there. Then he got in touch with a former superintendent for Conrad Stanley; he’s still working at the Stanley factory, under the new owners. Right away the superintendent told Peabody that shortly before Conrad Stanley’s death, he had fired a man by the name of John Blick who had worked there as a bookkeeper. He had been fired for stealing petty cash; Conrad had not preferred any charges; he had just fired Blick. Blick spoke Polish and he answered to the description of the second Conrad. There wasn’t time to get the photograph of the second Conrad and show it to the superintendent, or to take him to see and identify the second Conrad, not just then. But the description was right; John Blick filled the qualifications, and since the thefts had not been reported to the police, it was safe to assume that Conrad had told somebody, and that somebody consequently had a hold on John Blick. It was also safe to assume that Blick wasn’t a man of many scruples and that he’d leap at a chance to make money by posing as Stanislowski.”

“Jonny,” Laura said. “And the money.”

“That was it. Blick was to pose as Conrad with a faked passport as identification. He was to get possession of Jonny. And I think it just might have worked,” Matt said slowly. “Jonny can’t speak much English, she understands only a few words. If they had worked it right and fast enough, she might have been induced to at least show a friendliness with Buck, who spoke Polish, and who knew all the background that he had been given. Jonny is accustomed to being shunted around from one person to another. She is accustomed to obedience. Accustomed to the mysterious ways of a world she doesn’t understand. If she had objected to being turned over to Blick, we’d have only thought that after two years’ separation she felt strange with her father and confused. Yes, I think it could have worked. Then after Blick got control of Jonny, Peabody thinks that he would have taken her probably to some distant place, New York, San Francisco, New Orleans, some place in America, then turned over Jonny and the money, been paid off and quietly disappeared. There’d have been some story to cover the thing, but our murderer would have got the money.”

Laura said in a cold, small voice, “What was to happen to Jonny then?”

“Nothing, probably. I don’t think murder was a part of the original plan. I think she’d have been sent to school somewhere, in France perhaps or Switzerland, so none of us would be likely to see her often. I think she’d have been cared for all right but she wouldn’t have had her money, ever. In any event, it’s a long time until Jonny’s of age; that was all in the future. Peabody says the plan was made probably when we first heard about Jonny. It would take time to arrange. He thinks the deal was all set and was about to be put in operation when the real Conrad turned up. Oh, Maria Brown talked to Peabody.”

“She told us the truth.”

“Except for one lie. She heard the murderer’s voice, all right; she knew whether it was a man’s voice or a woman’s. She wouldn’t admit it because she had resolved not to be obliged to identify the murderer; she was afraid of revenge. Her story squares with the things Conrad must have done that afternoon. Conrad had told her about my letter only in a general way— remember, their time together was very short. He didn’t go into detail about our names, but of course he knew them; Maria didn’t. When he left her, he made his telephone calls; he found where Jonny was. He came to see you. Then he went back home. By this time our master mind, our murderer, had decided that murder was the only way out. You see, the murderer believed that nobody knew that Conrad was here. If he were killed at once, he’d go down on the police record as an unidentified man; the original plan still could be put into operation and there was now a chance to add very convincing details. The murderer came to Koska Street, prepared to get all the information possible out of Conrad—and Conrad, exuberant, excited, made a little drunk, was more than willing to talk of his child. He told of that song among other things. When he was stabbed, his passport, my letter, papers of identification were taken away. The passport was probably destroyed but the other things were given to Blick to bolster up his claim. It must have seemed a foolproof opportunity to build up a rather shaky scheme which, in all likelihood, there was still some hesitation about launching.  Blick did as he was told. But murder hadn’t been a part of the deal. Peabody thinks Blick was scared all along, and after the questioning this morning, Peabody thinks Blick decided to get out fast. Peabody thinks he was scared and defiant and said flatly he’d had enough. Peabody says obviously Blick had decided to tell you the truth—probably because he was afraid to talk to a man, or to the police directly, and hoped you’d intercede for him. In any event he’d get away fast. But he must have made the mistake of saying that that was what he intended to do.”

Jonny put her hand on the kitten and Matt said, “Jonny gave us a clue. But I didn’t see it. Jonny—where’s the yellow bird?”

“BIRD,” JONNY SAID QUESTIONINGLY
, having trouble with the “r.”

Matt laughed and went to get the dictionary. Jonny peered over his shoulder—and suddenly her little face set in implacable anger. She ran to the woodbox, groped under the logs and drew out the yellow bird. “Bad,” she said, “bad!” She dropped it as if it burned her fingers and ran to stand before Laura in an oddly protective way, as if she were the adult.

“You see—”  Matt began and the door buzzer sounded sharply. Matt, holding the kitten curled against his shoulder, went to answer it.

Doris’ high voice cried, “Matt! The police phoned to me! They told me it was Charlie!”

Doris’ coat was flung anyhow across her shoulders. Her face was white. Her eyes darted around the room. Matt said, “Oh, yes, it was Charlie. He killed the first Conrad; he was the real one. He killed Catherine Miller. Peabody thinks, as he was leaving your place that night, he saw Catherine Miller waiting under the light above the bus stop. He thought she was Maria Brown, stopped the taxi and got out. She turned back to the apartment house; he followed her and got in the door before it could close and killed her with whatever weapon he could find, the iron bar and his own scarf. Yesterday afternoon, Laura was asleep and Jonny opened the door for me. Peabody thinks that Charlie came earlier; he had the key. He probably rang the doorbell but Laura didn’t hear; perhaps Jonny let him in but”—he eyed the woodbox—“I think that he had let himself in, thinking Laura and Jonny were gone, and Jonny saw him. Perhaps we’ll never know exactly what happened; probably he went very quietly to Laura’s room, took her scarf, debated perhaps as to killing Laura then and there when he had a chance, decided against it because he hoped the scarf would clinch Peabody’s case against Laura and left. But, Jonny—there are things you can’t deceive a child about. Jonny knew there was something threatening, ugly, wrong, in the way he crept into the place and took the scarf and went away—”

“That’s when she changed,” Laura said slowly. “She didn’t come to speak to Charlie the next time he came. I remember that—”

“She hid the yellow bird Charlie had given her. She wouldn’t have it on the Christmas tree. And somehow she knew that he was a threat to Laura.”

Doris let her coat slide from her shoulders onto the floor. “I don’t believe it. Charlie—but Charlie wanted to marry me! Charlie said he was in love with me!”

Matt said gently, “He had to have money, Doris. Perhaps that was a short cut; you see, if you’d married him he’d get your money—at least, you wouldn’t let him go bankrupt.”

“Bankrupt! Charlie would never go bankrupt.”

“Yes,” Matt said grimly, “he would and he was going to. Peabody got a search warrant this afternoon. Charlie was away. He was out of the office. As a matter of fact he was trailing Laura and Jonny. He had done that before. He had to get rid of Laura.”

“Wait,” Doris said, “wait. I don’t understand. A search warrant.”

“Yes. That was a clue Peabody turned up this morning. When he went to Charlie’s factory hunting for a man who would answer the impostor’s qualifications, he discovered that a lot of men had been fired during the last three years, too many men. The fact seems to be that Conrad Stanley’s contracts with Charlie had kept his business going for years; Conrad was always loyal to his friends; he’d kept on with Charlie and even influenced some of his other business friends to give Charlie contracts. All that dropped away when Conrad died and Conrad’s business was sold.

The new owners didn’t renew contracts. Charlie borrowed to the hilt; he was in a tough spot. He obligated himself, counting on a third of the Stanislowski fund. About then we discovered Jonny. And Charlie saw a way to get the whole fund. He’d worked that out—and the real Conrad turned up. So it was murder or bankruptcy. And once he undertook murder he had to go on. Peabody got a search warrant, he went to Charlie’s office in the Loop. Charlie wasn’t there. Peabody went over the place, books, records, everything. Charlie was desperate. He cooked up a deal with Blick—the second Conrad, the impostor.” Matt explained it.

“But how did Charlie know about the first Conrad, the murdered man?” Doris asked.

“Conrad must have telephoned to Charlie before he telephoned to you and before he telephoned to Laura. Charlie already had this deal in progress; it must have rocked him when Conrad Stanislowski telephoned. Perhaps he met him somewhere, went out the side door, perhaps he talked only over the telephone. In any event, he found out where Conrad was staying and he found out that Conrad’s passport wasn’t in order. He told him it was a serious matter and he’d see to it; certainly he told him not to see the child until Charlie had fixed up the passport question. Conrad pretended to accept it because he intended to get his wife to a place of safety before he claimed Jonny. That’s why he asked Laura and you and certainly Charlie to keep his presence a secret. He hoped you wouldn’t get together about it until he’d got his wife out of the city—”

“His wife!” Doris said blankly.

“Maria Brown,” Matt said and explained that, too. “It looks as if Conrad didn’t want to go back to her until he had actually seen the child, so since Charlie had evaded him, he phoned to you. Then he came here. We’re not sure of all this, but it must have happened because in the intervening time Charlie had a chance to plan murder—”

Doris said suddenly, “Don’t tell me any more!” But then she looked at Laura and looked at Matt and had to ask a question. “Did Charlie try to kill Laura?”

“Oh, yes,” Matt said. Suddenly he looked rather grim and white. “He tried to kill Laura. He had to. You see he had left Conrad for dead. But then the police said that Conrad had lived for a few moments, long enough so a woman tried to help him and phoned to Laura: Maria Brown.” Matt turned to Laura, “You told the police that Conrad was dead when you got there but Charlie must have thought,
was
he dead? A guilty man is hagridden by fear. You might have told the police the truth, but also you
might
know something else just the same, which would in some way implicate Charlie. It might have been even something you didn’t recognize as evidence but something that the police would track down and establish as evidence. Yes, he was terrified. Everything had gone wrong. He had to—get rid of you. He had your keys; he must have taken them in case he needed them when his scheme began to develop. He knew about your custom of hot milk and chocolate in the two thermos bottles. That was dangerous, but if you saw him in your apartment he could invent some excuse and postpone an attempt to murder you. He followed you that first day in the park, hoping for an opportunity. You didn’t give it to him. But when John Blick made his claim, you confirmed Charlie’s fear by refusing point-blank to accept Blick as Conrad. That settled it with Charlie. He didn’t know exactly why you weren’t telling the police whatever it was you knew or your reason for refusing to accept Blick as Conrad. He couldn’t guess; he tried to get it out of you; but he was convinced that you had some very sound reason. You insisted that you wouldn’t give up Jonny; you blocked his whole scheme. This morning Blick ran out on him and, we think, told Charlie that he was through, and was going to talk to you or somebody. Charlie was in very deep. He had to get rid of Blick. If he could get rid of you at the same time so it would look like a murder and a suicide—a confession, in short—he’d be safe. He got my gun. It was in the drawer of the table—”

“Has he confessed to all this?” Doris cried.

“He will confess. He’ll have to. Some of all this is merely surmise but Peabody’s got the main facts. Charlie was shot through the shoulder. He was trying to escape. He’ll stand trial. Don’t forget he was caught in the act of attempted murder.”

Doris gave Matt a long look. Then unexpectedly she turned to Laura. “Laura, come home with me. Stay with me for a few days, you and Jonny. I want to know Jonny better. Perhaps—we could know each other better, Laura, than we have up to now.”

She meant it. There was something wistful and appealing in her eyes.