Now You See It... Part 29

"I'd like to know, yes," he told her.

"Here," she said. prodding an index finger at her right breast (Was that a wince of embarra.s.sment I saw on Plum's face?)

He swallowed. "You're lucky it didn't hit you in me eye."

Ca.s.sandra chose not to respond to mat. What could she have said? "That's a really stupid remark. Sheriff'?

"And your husband shot this-blew this dart at you?"

"Yes. Yes. To keep me from leaving the room after he'd poisoned Harry-"

She broke off as the Sheriff raised his hand as though to stop the traffic flow of new information-

"Harry?" he asked.

"My husband's agent," Ca.s.sandra answered.

"You never told me his name before," he said.

"Oh/ yes. All right. I'm sorry."

"Okay," he said. "Lets get this straightened out/ then."

I know he heard her pitiful groan but decided to ignore it.

"Harry was sitting on the floor over there. You gave him the poisoned Scotch. Did he die right away?"

"No. I tried to get him on his feet to take him to the hospi- tal. I couldn't though; he had no control of his limbs."

"All right." Plum nodded gravely. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Was that a pitiful groan I heard in my own throat? Proba- bly imagination. But tile man was driving me nuts, along with Ca.s.sandra.

"You tried to leave the room-"

"To call your office," she interrupted.

"It was you who called my office?"

"No!" she cried. "1 said I was going to call your office! But before I could, my husband hit me with the dart!"

"Got you," he said. "And that paralyzed you."

"Yes. And I fell down."

Now You See It.. Ill

"And saw this Harry-"

"Kendal. Harry Kendal."

"Harry Kendal, right." He nodded. "Now I'm getting the

picture."

Harry's words flared brightly in my brain. Jesus H. Christ!

"You saw this Harry Kendal die before you lost con- sciousness?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." He tried to mollify her with a gesture. "I've got it

now."

He frowned. "Except-"

A look of pained vexation took her face.

"-you said before, you thought this Harry Kendal had

been shot."

"Oh." She nodded. "Yes. Apparently what happened was that my husband terrorized Harry with-"

Terrorized?" he broke in.

"I said apparently because he fired one of those dueling

pistols at him."

"Then-"

"Let me finish," she demanded, begging. "The pistol ball was obviously a fake one-made of wax, hollow, filled with blood. A magician's gimmick."

"I see," said Plum. "And why would he do that?"

"I told you-to terrorize Harry."

Plum's voice seemed suddenly-surprisingly-aware as he inquired, "And why .would he want to do that, Mrs.

Delacorte?"

cta|ter14

Ba.s.sandra didn't-couldn't-speak at first. Then she an- swered/ "I don't know." Of course she did; we both did now. But she had no intention of letting the Sheriff know.

"No idea?" he asked; much as though he suspected die truths although he obviously couldn't have.