It's a Sin to Kill by Day Keene Page A

was gentle. “Let’s put it this way, Mary Lou. So one of your cups was missin’. You
say
you dove over side and recovered it. You say you put it in this suitcase. If the cup had still been in the suitcase, what would it prove? Twenty-four hours in the water would have washed away any trace of a drug. Can you prove
you
didn’t throw the cup over side and then recover it in an attempt to make Charlie’s story hold up?”
    â€œN-no. But in that case why isn’t it still in the suitcase?”
    â€œBecause the story sounded better this way. It gives credence to your story about bein’ slugged. Can you
prove
that someone slugged you and threw you in the pass?”
    â€œN-no.” She touched the back of her head. “But — ”
    White looked tired. He undoubtedly was. He was, after all, in his early sixties. “You could have hit yourself with almost anythin’, Mary Lou. You’re young. You love Charlie. An’ if a-hittin’ yourse’f on the head a couple of times would save him from the chair, hit would be worth hit to you. Now mind you, I ain’t sayin’ you’re lyin’. It kin be your story is true. But hit’s improbable as hell.”
    A deep silence followed. The gulls continued to squawk. An outboard motor pooped a few times then settled down into a high-pitched drone. Several charter boat captains came out into the cockpit of their boats and looked at the little group on the pier.
    State’s Attorney Keely inspected the planking around the crooked piling. “I don’t see any sign of blood.”
    â€œIt would seem there would be some,” Gilmore said, “if Mrs. Ames was struck as hard as she says she was.”
    Ames felt Mary Lou’s body stiffen in his arms. He tried to hush her and couldn’t.
    â€œYou’re a bunch of goddamn small-town fools,” she cried. “You’re like all the rest of the local business men. The Chamber of Commerce has you buffaloed. You’re willing to let the tourists walk all over you, just so they keep coming down here. And you’ll let Charlie go to the chair just because you’re afraid of the Camden money.”
    Neither Gilmore nor Keely said anything.
    Sheriff White’s voice continued gentle. “Now, honey. You’re jist upset. That hain’t no way fo’ a pretty girl like you t’ talk. An’ hit ain’t so. Effen I thought Camden killed his wife or planned to have her kilt, I’d jug him before he could say Baltimore.”
    White turned and took his cigar from his mouth as the driver of the parked cruiser hurried out on the pier. There’s another one, Sheriff,” the deputy said. “It just came in on the two-way. Cody said the guy was so excited he could hardly make head or tail out of what the Camden butler was saying but that according to what he could get, there’s another body floating in the slip where the
Sea Bird
is berthed and the only thing that’s kept the tide from suckin it out to sea is that it’s tangled in a mess of rope.
    â€œWho is it?”
    â€œThat’s what Cody couldn’t get. He said Phillips talked so fast and was so excited that he had a hell of a time getting his name and address out of him. Then by the time he’d asked who was dead, the butler had hung up.”
    The eyes of the group on the pier lifted in unison and looked up the awakening bay and basin. There was a small knot of people on the Camden pier but it was too far away and the morning mist was too heavy for any of them to stand out as individuals.
    Keely took off his hat and patted his forehead with his breast pocket handkerchief. “I knew I should have gone home.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to be in court at nine o’clock.”
    â€œWhat time is it?”
    â€œFour minutes after six.”
    White returned his cigar to his mouth. “Well, let’s go see. You go first,