Wife or Death by Ellery Queen Page B

lately. I look at the mileage meter every time I pull in or out of the garage.”
    â€œFunny,” the chief muttered. “Any notion about it?”
    â€œIt’s a mystery to me, Augie. Unless their original plan was to take my car, but on the way he decided to kill her and brought the car back afterward. That would have been smart, because if he abandoned the car somewhere it would have caused an investigation. By putting the car back he’d figure I wouldn’t ever know it had been gone.”
    Augie Spile shook his head. “Her body was found ten miles south of town. Twice ten—up and back—is twenty. You say only fifteen miles were put on.”
    â€œI hadn’t thought of that.” Denton scowled. “My car was driven somewhere, though—by somebody, Angel or someone else.”
    â€œWhat’s the other thing, Jim?”
    â€œGeorge Guest knows who the man is. The man she started to run off with. The man I think killed her.”
    The chief’s heavy lids rose. “George does? How does George figure in this?”
    â€œHe saw Angel and some man wrapped around each other in the back seat of a car on the club parking lot the night of the Hallowe’en Ball. Since she ran off with a man only a few hours later, it must have been the same man.”
    â€œWho was he?”
    â€œGeorge wouldn’t tell me.”
    Spile looked puzzled. “If he told you that much, how come he wouldn’t tell you the man’s name?”
    â€œAt the time, we were both assuming Angel’s lover had left town with her. But this guy she was necking with was still around, according to George, so he couldn’t be the man she ran away with. That being the case, George didn’t want to involve him. I had to agree. Angel was quite capable of such in-between quickies.”
    The chief looked embarrassed and glanced at the kitchen wall-clock. The stores stayed open until 9 o’clock on Friday nights, but it was almost 9:30. “George’ll be gone by now. Must be just about getting home. Suppose I give him a call.”
    â€œLet me do it, Augie,” Denton said. “Okay?”
    The chief thought. “Okay,” he said, rising. “But if you don’t mind, Jim, I’ll listen on the extension.”
    Denton shrugged. That was the cop in Augie Spile speaking. He went to the wall phone just inside the door to the dining room and dialed the Guests’ number. Corinne answered.
    â€œOh, Jim!” She sounded terribly distressed. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I’ve heard the news—”
    â€œAlready?” Denton said.
    â€œIt’s all over town that you’ve been arrested for murder. I knew it couldn’t be true, but—Damn people! Do they know yet who did it?”
    â€œRalph Crosby thinks I did. I’m sure most of Ridgemore thinks so, too. Thanks for being a member of the loyal opposition.”
    â€œDon’t be an idiot. You couldn’t kill anybody.”
    â€œYou’re a doll,” he said. “George home?”
    â€œNot yet, Jim.”
    â€œNo kidding. Where is he?”
    â€œHe phoned just before nine to say he wouldn’t be home for a while. He wanted to check something out, he said—he has a hunch about who killed Angel. He said he’d tell me all about it when he got home. Jim, wouldn’t that be a risky thing to do?”
    Denton was silent. Then he said, “Oh, I don’t think so, Corinne. I can’t see George doing anything foolish.”
    â€œYou sound as if you know what he was talking about.” Her tone was anxious now. “Jim. Do you?”
    â€œYes,” Denton said slowly. “The night of the ball George happened to spot Angel in some car on the club parking lot in a hot clinch with a man. There’s a good chance that’s the man she ran away with—and that he’s the man who killed her.”
    â€œWell, who is it? George