Chapter 16
Chief Handscomb said. "Who are you, and what is your interest in this case?"
Ben stepped into the room. "My name is Ben Hearst. I'm the algebra teacher at Mekins Academy."
"So?"
"I happen to know that Adam did have a visitor last Wednesday night."
"Who was it?"
"Anne Yeaton." Ben looked at Adam apologetically. "Sorry, Adam. Anne and I spent last night together at Trail's End Motel. She told me she was with you last Wednesday night."
Dean Hodgkiss gave an audible gasp. What kind of a school was he running anyhow?
John Bryant snorted. "A--likely story. These two are obviously friends. They've dreamed this up between them." But the old man's voice wasn't quite as confident as it had been.
Ben said, "I hardly think we had time to dream up a story, since the first I, or anyone else for that matter, knew about Adam's-er-affair until Anne told me."
"I knew it," Miss Quimper shrieked. "I knew it all the time. It was in the letters."
Dean Hodgkiss gave her a stern look. "The letters that you stole, Miss Quimper?"
Miss Quimper subsided, muttering to herself.
Chief Handscomb eye Ben Hearst. "Can you prove that you and Miss Yeaton were at the Trail's End, Mr. Hearst?"
"Oh, yes," Ben replied smoothly. "Miss Yeaton is a strikingly beautiful woman. The clerk couldn't keep his eyes off her. I'm sure he'll remember."
"And she told you that she was here last Wednesday night?"
"She did indeed." Ben permitted himself a smirk. "She remembers it vividly. She was quite proud of the way she had ensnared our football coach. More than that," Ben paused and glanced at Miss Quimper, who was trying to unobtrusively shrink into the background. "Anne said she'd written Miss Quimper a farewell note, bragging of her exploits with Adam."
Chief Handscomb looked at the spinster. "Is that the letter you said you had in your purse, Miss Quimper ? May I see it, please."
"No!" the old maid screamed. "You can't have it." She clutched her purse to her bosom. "You can't have it! You can't!"
Chief Handscomb extended his hand. "If you don't hand over the letter, Miss Quimper, I'll have to hold you for concealing evidence."
Dean Hodgkiss said sharply, "Give him the letter, Miss Quimper."
Whimpering, her lower lip trembling, the spinster opened her purse, rummaged inside, and produced a letter. She handed it to the officer. Chief Handscomb removed the letter from its envelope and read it through. He frowned, glanced at Lafe Bryant, returned the letter to its envelope and handed it back to Miss Quimper. He sighed deeply then, produced a pair of handcuffs from beneath his jacket and approached Lafe Bryant.
The boy cringed against his father. "No! Don't let him take me, Dad. I didn't think that Nancy would die. I only wanted her to have a-"
John Bryant clamped his hand over his son's mouth. "Shut up, you blubbering little idiot!" And then, more quietly, he added, "Nothing's going to happen to you, boy. I have enough money to see to that."
Adam and Ben were alone in the cottage kitchen. Adam mixed a drink and placed it before Ben. Ben asked, "How about you?"
Adam shook his head. "I'm off the stuff. I almost let it get me."
Ben took a sip of his drink. "Adam, I have a confession to make. Anne didn't actually specify last Wednesday as one of the nights she was here. I merely assumed that she was."
"A good assumption. It saved my life. Ben, I appreciate your sticking you chin out."
"Forget it. I couldn't stand by and see you railroaded into the chair by that little weasel. You know something? I think the chief was on your side. I think he pulled a fastie to make the kid confess."
"You mean Quimper's letter?"
"That and other things. I don't believe Anne said anything in the letter but that she was leaving Mekins and was launching herself on a career as a prostitute. She was needling the old girl."
Adam nodded. "He never once mentioned what the letter contained. He merely looked at Lafe accusingly and got out his handcuffs. He didn't accuse the boy of murder. He didn't have to."
Ben took a long swallow of his drink and gave Adam a searching look. "Adam, what about Betty?"
"I've lost her. She hates my guts. Can you blame her? She was in my bed when Bryant called. She heard every word he said."
"You give up easily, don't you, boy?"
"I wish to hell there were some hope."
"Don't look so damned abused. Get hold of yourself, man. There's plenty of hope."
Adam made a futile gesture. "I cheated on her and I lied to her. No girl will stand still for that."
"What are you, some kind of martyr or something? Listen to me, Adam, Betty's an intelligent girl and she's in love with you. She isn't going to stop loving you just because you went overboard for a couple of weeks. Better men than you have done the same. You and Betty have known each other all your lives. She knows that what you did isn't an every-day occurrence. She's probably crying her heart out right now. Give her a couple of weeks, then go to her, tell her you're sorry, but admit to anything she accuses you of. Be honest. Women are funny. They'll accept most anything from the man they love."
Adam sighed deeply. He decided to accept Ben's advice. He didn't think it would do much good, but there was hope in his eyes.