“I was married quite recently. I still get muddled sometimes.”
“British, are you?”
“Yes.”
Gilligan rolled his eyes. He looked as if he didn’t have much trust in her as a witness, if any. “Anyone else see what happened?” he asked hopefully.
“Just Mr. Lambert,” said Daisy. “He’s an agent of the Department of Justice.”
“Don’t that beat the Dutch!” Gilligan groaned. “A reliable, trained witness, every ‘tec’s dream, but he’ll want to make a federal case of it, you betcha sweet life, and the election’s next week. So where’s this Lambert?”
Daisy pointed. “In there, telephoning Washington.”
“Rats!”
“If I might be permitted to speak,” said Pascoli with a touch of sarcasm, “there’s a federal angle to this business anyway. The victim …”
“Right, where is he?” The man who bustled in was small,like Gilligan, but otherwise the detective’s antithesis, being chubby with a round, pink, cheerful face.
“Where’s who?” asked Pascoli.
“Smart-ass,” Gilligan muttered, swinging round as the newcomer replied, “The victim, the second victim.”
“Hi, doc,” said Gilligan a trifle sheepishly. “Sorry, looks like there’s only one been croaked. But maybe you oughta take a look at this guy anyway. He’s a witness, passed out cold from the shock, they say.”
The doctor went across to Thorwald, bent over him, and straightened immediately with a grin. “First time I’ve heard it called ‘the shock,’ but there’s a new euphemism coined every day. Let him sleep it off. Oh, there you are, Rosenblatt. I thought you’d be along, with the election coming up.”
“What do you have for me, doctor?” asked the fair, dapper man standing in the doorway, surveying the scene.
“Gunshot to the upper left thigh, superficial wound. It’s the broken neck that killed him. I’ll try to do the post mortem for you this afternoon, but I make no promises.”
“Good enough. Thank you.” Rosenblatt stood aside to let the doctor depart. “O.K., Sergeant, what’s going on?”
“Dangfino, sir,” sighed Gilligan.
4
So far, Daisy was not impressed with the American police. If Rosenblatt and Gilligan were typical, no wonder J. Edgar was prepared to listen to advice from Scotland Yard on reforming his department.
Daisy wondered whether Rosenblatt, whom she assumed to be the district attorney, was more competent. Failing that, she could only hope that they would somehow muddle through to a solution without involving her more than absolutely necessary. Since she had once more—by absolutely no fault of her own—landed in the middle of a murder investigation, she wished Alec were in charge. However angry, he would at least start with a presumption of her innocence.
On the other hand, this was her chance to prove to him that she was quite capable of coping without him. Maybe she could even work out who was the murderer and help the local police collar him. What a coup that would be! Alec would never again be able to claim she impeded his investigations.
Rosenblatt and Gilligan, conferring, kept glancing at her. Of course, she was the only witness both present and compos mentis, as long as she didn’t faint from starvation. Mrs. Shurkowski had returned long since from her errand, but so far the promised “bratwurst on rye” had not materialized.
Right now, Daisy would be happy to devour any old brat, best or worst, on barley, or millet, or any other grain available. She had to assume the “rye” in the order was not yet more whisky.
The editors had remained in an uneasy, whispering huddle around the recumbent Thorwald. Daisy saw several of them nod, as if they had come to an agreement. High heels clicking, Mrs. Shurkowski moved towards her while the rest drifted unobtrusively away.
Rosenblatt looked round. “Mr. Pascoli?” he queried; and when theTown Talkeditor stopped, “Stick around, if you wouldn’t mind, sir.”
“I have work to do,” Pascoli complained, “and Sergeant Gilligan didn’t seem too interested in what I had to say.”
“But I am. I’ll be with you in just a moment.”
Pascoli pulled a face and came to join Daisy as Mrs. Shurkowski said to her, “Honey, us girls have to stick together. You want me to stay and hold your hand?”
“Thank you, it’s very kind of you, but I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work. I’m sure I shall be all right.”
