The Second Confesion

“Perhaps not,” Archer conceded. “Only, since you have been engaged to investigate this other matter-I'll withdraw the question if it's impertinent.” “Not at all,” Sperling declared. “I'm paying the damage, but not because I'm obliged to. There's no evidence that it had any connection with me or my affairs.” “Then it's none of my business,” Archer further conceded. “But the fact remains that something happened yesterday to cause your daughter to decide to summon Rony and tell him she was through with him. She says that it was simply that the trouble her friendship with him was causing was at last too much for her, and she made up her mind to end it. That may well be. I can't even say that I'm sceptical about it. But it is extremely unfortunate, extremely, that she reached that decision the very day that Rony was to die a violent death, under circumstances which no one can explain and for which no one can be held accountable.” Archer leaned forward and spoke from his heart. “Listen, Mr Sperling. You know quite well I don't want to make trouble for you. But I have a duty and a responsibility, and, besides that, I'm not functioning in a vacuum. Far from it!

I can't say how many people know about the situation here regarding your daughter and Rony, but certainly some do. There are three guests here in the house right now, and one of them is a prominent broadcaster. Whatever I do or don't do, people are going to believe that that situation and Rony's death are connected, and therefore if I tried to ignore it, I would be hooted out of the county. I've got to go to the limit on this homicide, and I'm going to. I've got to find out who killed Rony and why. If it was an accident no one will be better pleased than me, but I've got to know who was responsible. It's going to be unpleasant-” Archer stopped because the door had swung open. Our heads turned to see the intruder. It was Ben Dykes, the head of the county detectives, and behind him was the specimen who had been born in the wrong country, Lieutenant Con Noonan of the State Police. I didn't like the look on Noonan's face, but then I never do.

“Yes, Ben?” Archer demanded impatiently. No wonder he was irritated, having been interrupted in the middle of his big speech.

“Something you ought to know,” Dykes said, approaching.

“What is it?” “Maybe you'd rather have it privately.” “Why? We have nothing to conceal from Mr Sperling, and Wolfe's working for him.