The Weak-Eyed Bat

“Did you come here to discuss my house furnishings?”

“No,” Jakes said slowly. “I wanted to ask you if you murdered Joan Frost last night.”

Emily’s head fell back and her left arm dangled over her chair.

“Now, Emily,” Jakes said mildly, “none of this play acting. Don’t pretend to me that you’ve fainted.”

Emily’s head snapped back. “I’m not pretending anything of the sort!” she cried. “Can’t you see you’ve given me a terrible shock? Haven’t you anything better to do than frighten helpless women and children?”

“I never frightened a child in my life,” Jakes shouted, stung.

“I’ll bet you’ve frightened dozens of them. Go away.”

“I just came. You didn’t answer my question.”

“You ask me, me, if I killed a poor young girl in the first bloom of her youth. How was she killed?”

“Hit on the head. I heard she was engaged to Ralph. Is that so?”

“Puppy love. She was only a child, a willful, erring child.”

“That isn’t what you used to call her,” Jakes said firmly. “When did you last see Joan Frost, Emily?”

“I don’t remember,” she replied sadly. “When you get as old as I am, Jakes, you’ll find it isn’t so easy to remember.”

“Maybe so. What were you doing when this spotlight of yours was broken?”

“Lying down. I’d just had a terrible—” She closed her lips tightly.

“I know about that business with Ralph,” Jakes said.

Emily snorted. “That sister of yours! I’ll have to fire her.”

“Go ahead. You were scared Ralph was going to run away with Joan, eh?”

“It was nothing of the sort. Instead of trying to find the murderer you are harrying a poor old woman who’s tied hand and foot to a wheelchair.”

“This Dr. Prye. What about him?”

“Well?”

“Did you know he’d been attacked?”

“No — yes! How should I know? Is he hurt?”

“Not much. Why is he so interested in Joan Frost?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Emily said in a bored voice.

“It had nothing to do with the conversation you had with him yesterday morning?”

“Go away. I feel faint. Get my nurse.”

“Now, Emily,” Jakes said, sighing, “I’m not saying you murdered the girl, but someone did, and you had a motive.”

“If I murdered everyone I disliked, there’d be havoc around here. Havoc.” She glared at him fiercely. “And you’d be in it.”

Constable Jakes got slowly to his feet. “It’s funny you didn’t ask more questions about the murder. Did you know about it before?”

“If you had an ounce of grey matter—”

“Maybe Ralph told you? Ralph was out last night about the right time. He quarreled with the girl yesterday, too.”

“Ralph never quarreled with anyone in his life. You’re being victimized, Jakes, by a pack of unscrupulous liars. Good day to you.”

Constable Jakes went out of the room looking depressed. He had often read of methods of making witnesses tell the truth — rubber hoses and telephone directories. But it would be silly to cut up a perfectly good garden hose on the off-chance, and the Clayton telephone directory could be used lethally on nothing larger than bees.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs Miss Harriet Alfonse was crossing the hall, and she quickened her pace noticeably.

“Hey,” Jakes said. She turned around and flashed him a brilliant smile.

“Miss Alfonse, I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”

“Certainly,” she said graciously. “I’m not too busy at the moment.”

Since Miss Dorothy Jakes was the cook for the household, Constable Jakes was vicariously acquainted with Miss Alfonse. The acquaintance was colored somewhat by the feud between Miss Jakes and Miss Alfonse which had arisen out of the latter’s preference for breakfast in bed. But no matter what her eating habits, Constable Jakes decided, Miss Alfonse was a handsome woman for her age.

They went into the library. Alfonse beckoned Constable Jakes to sit down while she shut the door of the library carefully.

“What did you want to see me about?” she said with an arch smile. “Have I been breaking the law?”

“Maybe. What do you know about Miss Bonner’s spotlight being smashed last night?”

First she looked intense, then puzzled, then blank. Constable Jakes was certain this was leading up to something but all she was said was: “I don’t know anything about it.”

“You were down at the lake at that time, weren’t you?”

“What time?” Miss Alfonse asked cagily.

“About a quarter to nine.”

“Yes, I was down at the lake. I was getting some air.”

“How were you getting your air?” Jakes asked earnestly. “Were you sitting, walking, canoeing?”

“Sitting.”

“You were alone?”

Miss Alfonse looked prim. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Who was with you?”

“I’d rather not say just now. I have my reputation to consider.”

Jakes sighed. “In these parts we don’t hold it against a girl if she goes down to the lake for some courting. Who was this man?”

“I have my family to consider, too,” she said. “I come from a very old family.”

“All right. Did you know this Joan Frost well?”

“What do you mean, did I know her? Has something happened to her?”

“She was murdered last night. We found her body in the lake.”