The D.A. Breaks an Egg

He managed to invest his departure with such an air of dignity that it seemed he was an important personage who had very graciously consented to grant an audience, rather than a person who was about to be interrogated concerning a murder case by the sheriff and district attorney of the county.

Selby grinned, as the door closed, and said, “You have to hand it to him, Rex.”

“I’ll hand it to him with a bunch of fives one of these days.”

Selby shook his head. “The man is clever, Rex. I was particularly amused at his comment that he didn’t believe in long courtships.”

“I’ll say he didn’t,” Brandon said. “And that little tramp he married is sitting pretty!”

Selby nodded, said, “Don’t be too certain she was a tramp, Rex. She knew her way around, but she’s a clever girl, with a lot of individuality.”

“I’m sorry I said that,” Brandon admitted. “I’m mad. A. B. Carr always gets my goat. Let’s get out of here, Doug. With the county car, and using the siren, we can still beat him out to his home, and get to talk with his wife before he’s had a chance to coach her.”

“Well,” Selby said, dubiously, “we can try, but I’m afraid that’s all the good it’s going to do us. Carr is clever.”

“He may be clever,” Brandon said, “but we’ve got the siren. Come on.”

They waited a few seconds for the elevator, paused briefly in the lobby to instruct the clerk to say nothing to anyone about their search, then sprinted for the big county car which was parked in front of a fireplug fifty feet from the hotel.

Brandon, behind the wheel, gunned the motor, tore out from the curb, gathered speed as he shot down Main Street, past the siren-stopped traffic, and turned up Orange Grove Drive with, a scream of protesting tires. A triumphant grin was on his face as he said, “Well see whether he has the guts to try to race us.”

Selby looked back for pursuing headlights. “There doesn’t seem to be anything behind us, Rex.”

“Damn him, he’s ahead of us,” Brandon said, and concentrated his attention on piloting the machine up the grade to the exclusive residential district. The city, lights began to appear below in twinkling clusters as the county car, roaring around the curves, climbed to a point where each bend in the road opened up a new vista of the slumbering city below.

Brandon muttered triumphantly as he finally slammed the car to a stop in front of Carr’s house, “By George, Doug, we beat him to it. He wasn’t ahead of us!”

Selby said, “He knew he couldn’t beat us home, Rex, so he simply stopped at the nearest telephone, coached his wife on what to say, and now he’ll come following along in a leisurely manner and apparently be very much surprised to find us here so soon.”

Brandon scowled, then suddenly burst out laughing. “Of course that’s what he did! Why didn’t I realize that was what he’d do? There’s something about that fellow that makes me so darned mad I forget to think!”

“Let’s wait out here for him,” Selby said. “He won’t be expecting that.”

They switched out the lights in the county car.

Brandon spilled tobacco into brown rice paper, rolled it into a cigarette by sheer sense of touch, then scraped a match into flame. So deft was he in his motions that he was smoking before Selby had finished tamping tobacco into his fragrant brier pipe.

They waited for some five minutes. Then headlights swung around a curve, danced for a moment along houses on the other side of the street, then swung back and sent lights stabbing through the rear window of the county car.

A. B. Carr pulled to a stop directly behind them.

Brandon and Doug Selby emerged from the county car.

“Well, well, well,” Carr said, with every evidence of surprise. “You beat me here. I thought you’d have gone on in and started questioning, so I didn’t hurry. Had a little trouble starting my car.”

Selby said, “It’s nice up here. We were talking.”

“But why didn’t you go in? Mrs. Carr would have been only too glad to see you. She knows you, you remember.”

And this time there could be no mistaking the significance of Carr’s smile.

“Yes,” Brandon said dryly, “I remember her quite well. I remember the first time I met her.”

Carr led the way up the walk, opened the screen door, then flung open the front door, said, “Hello, dear. We have visitors.”

His wife scorned the patent subterfuge of surprise. She came toward them without bothering to remark on the unexpected nature of the visit or the lateness of the hour. She merely gave her hand to Brandon, said, “How are you, Sheriff. It’s nice to see you again.” Then she placed her hand in Selby’s and smiled up at him with impudent eyes. “So nice to see you again, Mr. District Attorney. I was wondering if you folks were ever going to pay a social call. You see I owe a great deal to you.”

“A very great deal, my dear,” Carr said dryly.

“Do come in and be seated. Alfonse, how about one of those hot buttered rums you’ve been making at night?”