Date for Murder by Louis Trimble

the hallway.
    “Link was going toward his bedroom; he staggered like he was drunk.”
    “From which direction was he going?”
    “The center of the hall, by where the stairway goes up.”
    “Around Miss Manders’ room, huh?”
    “Yes. But don’t misunderstand …”
    “They’re engaged?” the Chief said. He seemed to be deliberately goading Jeffers.
    “I said not to misunderstand.” Jeffers voice was flat and mean.
    The Chief looked satisfied.
    “Okay, okay. Then what?”
    “Well, Idell’s door was open and Chunk—Tony Farman—was standing by his door looking sort of sick. At least when he turned he was white and there was blood on his chin. I think they had been fighting.”
    “Anything else?”
    Jeffers hesitated very perceptibly, but not long enough to need more urging to speak. “He had a gun in his hand.”
    “What kind?”
    “I didn’t notice. I don’t think it had been fired, though,” he added hurriedly. “I didn’t hear any shots.”
    “Anything else? Anybody say anything?”
    “His cousin came out of her room just after I came out of mine. Nobody said anything right then. Nor did anyone else show up.”
    “This Farman say anything at all—anything you remember?”
    Jeffers took a last drag on his cigaret and flicked it away. He studied his fingernails closely. They seemed in good shape, so he dropped his hands to his knees and raised his eyes.
    “Before he went back into his room, he told me Link had tried to bother Idell and they had fought. Link knocked him down and went into Idell’s room. Chunk went into Maybelle’s room—she’s his cousin—and got the gun. He said Link was trying—well, he was in Idell’s room. When he saw the gun he went back to bed.”
    The Chief said, “Yeah,” musingly and looked at Mark.
    Mark asked, “Did that make you feel like murdering Link, Jeffers?”
    Clinton Jeffers jerked his head in surprise. “It made me curse,” he said. “I got mad, naturally. But I didn’t feel like killing the big baboon.”
    “How about Farman?” Mark pursued. “Was he gone enough on Idell to feel that way?”
    “Yes,” Jeffers said quickly. “Tony Farman has a temper. But he would have shot Link right then. He flares up and then gets over it. I never heard of him nursing a grudge for very long. That’s conjecture, of course.”
    “Is that all?” the Chief asked.
    “That’s all. I went back to bed and fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until your man shook me.”
    “You didn’t dream anything else, huh? Like people moving around or someone splashing in the pool?”
    Jeffers’ smile was apologetic. “I’m afraid not. I was fagged out. I had a few drinks, and by the time I had gotten up once I was pretty well done in. I slept like the well-known top.”
    “Okay. Just one thing more. How long’ve you known this Link guy?”
    Jeffers became interested in his fingernails again. They were evidently the same as the last time he had looked at them. He said finally, “I knew him in the East slightly. He was a friend of Grant’s. He came to our frat house once in a while. I didn’t know him well.”
    “Thanks,” the Chief said. He turned, spit into the fireplace and then gazed into space. He seemed to have lost all interest in Jeffers. He didn’t look at Mark until the door had closed and then opened to admit Bayless.
    The Chief grinned. “Miss Manders, huh?”
    Idell came into the room wearily. Mark felt sympathy for her when he saw the dark pouches beneath her incredibly black eyes and the utter complete weariness in every line of her youthful features. She was obviously under a great strain, and had been for a number of hours.
    Mark looked sympathetically at her. She had changed to a light blue slack suit which looked cool. The material was light silk, and the perspiration made it cling to her body. It didn’t appear as if she wore anything beneath either the shirt or the trousers, and Mark couldn’t help wondering if Link had been altogether to