Red Gardenias bc-5 Read online

  Crane said, "Nice shot, Williams."

  Led by Dr Rutledge, everyone but Ann and Delia Young went out into the hall. Delia Young sat motionless in her chair. Crane remained on the table and had another drink. He drank bent over. He wondered if Ann was angry because he was drinking.

  "Aren t you going to thank me for saving you?" he asked her.

  Ann said, "And it wasn t Donovan after all?" Her green eyes were round.

  "I really think you ought to thank me," Crane said.

  The bullet had penetrated the hip of Dr Woodrin. It was a flesh wound and there was a lot of blood. Carmel helped Dr Rutledge with bandages, and then two guards were told to take Woodrin to City Hospital. "Notify the police," Peter March said. "We ll be right in."

  Crane said to those at the top of the stairs, "You better let me finish before I fall over." They came back into the room.

  "The idea was to make all the murders look like accidents and a suicide," he went on. "When Richard passed out in his car at the Country Club the doctor simply attached the hose to the exhaust pipe, ran it through a window, waited until he was dead, then took away the hose. Richard was drunk and couldn t smell the gas."

  Dr Rutledge said, "It s practically odorless anyway."

  "John s death was a little more difficult. Woodrin met him in his garage, threw the Scotch blanket over his head, muffling his shouts, and then wound him up in the tennis net. (You remember he always carried a tennis net with him?) That was to hold him without bruising his body. Then the carbon monoxide was hosed under the blanket."

  "That s ghastly!" Carmel exclaimed.

  With a splutter, Dr Woodrin s car started, went off in low gear. A small wind had come up with the dawn, was making the shades rustle. Away from the house, the car went into second.

  "Talmadge died like Richard, in his own car."

  Williams asked, "But why wasn t he in the driver s seat?"

  "That showed he d been tricked. Woodrin, on some pretext, arranged to meet Talmadge outside during the dance. The doctor went out early, rigged up the hose in Talmadge s car, then started the motor, ostensibly to allow the heater to warm the inside of the sedan. When Talmadge arrived, Woodrin was in the driver s seat, carefully breathing through a crack in the door, and the car was full of monoxide."

  Carmel cried, "But why didn t Talmadge smell the gas?"

  "It s nearly odorless, as Dr Rutledge just said… and he had a bad cold."

  "Woodrin couldn t breathe through the crack after Talmadge was there," Peter objected. "That would be too obvious. Why wasn t he overcome, too?"

  "He stayed only a moment or two," said Crane. "Then he framed an excuse to leave him, for a letter, or to get someone. For anything. He closed the door behind him. It was a cold night; the heat felt good, even though Talmadge was probably nervous about carbon monoxide, but there was also a psychological reason why the motor wasn t turned off."

  There was a moment of silence.

  "The reason was politeness. Woodrin had started the engine and the heater because he was cold; it would be impolite of Talmadge to turn it off, even though it was his car. So he died while Woodrin watched from a safe distance, was dead when Woodrin came back to remove the hose."

  Peter March asked, "But why the note in John s case, when the deaths passed as accidents?"

  "Woodrin didn t want an investigation. He forged the note so your family, if suspicion arose, would stop their investigation when they discovered John killed Richard, then himself. And to block a police investigation, he helped Carmel set the stage with tools on the garage floor and the hood of the sedan raised… so the coroner s jury would call the death accidental."

  "Wasn t the forged note a big risk?" Dr Rutledge asked.

  "No." Crane had difficulty keeping his eyes open. "In the excitement of the discovery, Carmel wouldn t study it. And it was promptly destroyed."

  Behind the house a rooster crowed. The two oil lamps threw hardly any light. Ann was watching Crane.

  Crane sighed and took another drink. He hoped that solved everything. He felt awful; even the drink didn t help.

  Peter said, "But what about Dad? Woodrin was with us when the attempt was made on him."

  "That was Donovan, accomplishing a little plagiarism on what he d learned of the murders from me and from Delia Young. He d always hated Simeon March, and when he learned how people could be killed with carbon monoxide, he thought he d muscle in on the murders." Crane crossed his arms over his stomach. "Only he bungled the job. He forgot the gardenia. That s how I knew it wasn t the real murderer."

  Peter asked, "Do you suppose he knew Woodrin was doing the murders?"

  "I think so. I wouldn t be surprised if he saw Woodrin fix Talmadge s car; he was at the Country Club that night."

  Dr Rutledge said, "And when Mr March didn t die, Donovan was afraid he d been identified, so he had to try again."

  Crane nodded.

  "How did you happen to suspect Woodrin?" Alice March asked.

  "His surprise when Simeon March was gassed. He d taken the other deaths so calmly. He just couldn t believe it. Then the atomizer when he came into the hospital room to treat Mr March. You don t use an atomizer to treat carbon monoxide poisoning."

  Dr Rutledge asked, "You think he was going to smother Mr March, then spray the gardenia around?"

  "I m sure of it." Crane closed his eyes for a second. "And the clinching clue was the oily water at the Duck Club."

  "Who fired the shots at the Duck Club?" Peter asked.

  "Donovan. He attacked Simeon March, then came out there. He wanted to frighten me; he was afraid I knew too much."

  Peter asked, "How did you figure out the use of the net and the hose?"

  "I guessed at the net, and smelled rubber on the exhaust pipe."

  Delia Young, still sitting in the chair, said huskily, "I thought you was a dick, Arthur."

  Peter was nodding his head. "And Woodrin was eager to be in the death here, to make sure Donovan was killed before he could produce alibis for John s and Richard s deaths."

  Crane said, "It took guts to take the chance of dodging Slats bullets until we killed him, but he was desperate. And he didn t dare shoot Slats himself; he knew that would throw suspicion on him."

  Williams said, "Slats damn near got him, too."

  Crane said, "And that brings down the curtain."

  He poured himself another drink, was surprised to see the bottle was nearly empty. Dr Rutledge and the remaining guard led the way down the stairs. Ann watched Peter and Carmel leave the room. Williams went by with Delia Young. He winked at Crane. Alice March called to Carmel and Peter, "Wait for me." She was the last to leave, brushing past Ann at the door. Crane closed his eyes, opened them and saw Ann still there, closed them again.

  After a long time she asked, "Are you sick, Bill?"

  "No."

  "You look awfully pale."

  He let his head drop against one shoulder. "I m all right."

  Her voice was alarmed. "Bill!" She came to the table. "What s the matter?"

  "Nothing."

  "You re not hurt?"

  "Not very much."

  She clutched his arm. "Where?"

  He uttered a cry of pain. "Don t touch me." He sat upright with a tremendous effort. "Please go away." He pressed both hands against his chest. "Please."

  "Bill!" She pulled his hands away, opened his coat. "You ve been shot! There s blood all over your shirt!"

  "I m all right."

  "But, Bill, why didn t you have the doctors… " Her green eyes widened. "Is it as bad as that?" He nodded slowly.

  "Oh, darling, don t die! I couldn t bear to have you die." She looked at him. "Isn t there anything…?"

  "You can… thank me… for saving you."

  "Of course I thank you, Bill." Her hands opened the bloody shirt. "I was only angry because you let Peter…" She searched in vain for the wound. She let go of the shirt, looked up at his face.

  "You louse!" she said. "Fooling me
like that! I ll never speak to you again as long as I live."

  "Darling," he said, grinning, "then you ll make me an ideal wife."

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