Beware The Pale Horse: A Wade Paris Mystery. Ben Benson

      “No,” she said. “He came home about six in the evening and he looked disturbed. He told me he was calling in the State Police. He didn’t tell me more.”

      “And you knew about this Chinese statue?” Paris asked her.

      “Yes. We all knew. It was no secret. We had everybody in for cocktails Sunday afternoon and Charles told them all about it.”

      “And everybody knew he had a gun in his desk drawer?”

      Hanft adjusted his shirt collar. “We all knew about the gun,” he said. “That was no secret either. The Point is rather isolated. It was necessary to keep a firearm in the house.”

      “But why did he call the State Police?” Paris asked. “Why didn’t he call on Chief Kay? He’s the local peace officer.”

      “I can answer that,” Mrs. Endicott said. She looked over at the Chief and smiled wanly. “Gus isn’t a young man, and Charles was always very fond of him. If there was any possible danger he didn’t want Gus to get hurt.”

      Kay scuffed the rug. “Now, Mrs. Endicott,” he said. “I sure would have wanted to be here. That was my job.”

      “I know,” she said to him. “And that’s just the reason Charles didn’t want you here. He thought too much of you, Gus. He thought of asking young Coats first. But then he decided it would call for a more experienced man. So he called the State Police. They sent over Lieutenant Hallmark. Possibly that was wrong. Lieutenant Hallmark is dead, and I’m sending a check to his widow because I feel a personal responsibility. But that doesn’t alter the fact that the lieutenant was mediocre too. You see, he failed.”

      “No,” Paris said. “Lieutenant Hallmark wasn’t mediocre. He was an honest, courageous and experienced policeman. I know because I worked with him many times.”

      “You’re very loyal to his memory,” Mrs. Endicott said. “It’s an admirable trait. But you can see how ineffective he was. He wasn’t capable of coping with a young baby-faced hoodlum half his age.”

      The room was silent. The air seemed heavy, depressed. “That’s what’s wrong,” Paris said. “Lieutenant Hallmark was shot in the back. That part means a lot to me, Mrs. Endicott. Hallmark would never turn his back on a stranger in a time like that. Nor would he have allowed the boy to get behind the desk. He had been a policeman seventeen years. He would have known better.”

      “But he did do it,” she said.

      “I don’t know,” Paris said. “We’re theorizing. Possibly the young man wasn’t there. Or if he was there, he wasn’t alone. There might have been somebody else with him. And that somebody else might have been a person your son knew and trusted. And because of that Lieutenant Hallmark was reassured. Then this person could have got behind the desk and Hallmark wouldn’t have thought anything of it.”

      “In other words,” Hanft said, “you think it might be an inside job. You’re not saying that merely to protect Hallmark’s name?”

      “No,” Paris said, “I’m not. I’m looking at it logically. So far all I have is a supposition and I may be entirely wrong. The important thing is the slip of paper with the car registration. You didn’t see it?”

      “I saw the slip,” Hanft said. “Charles showed it. But he didn’t show the numbers.”

      “All right,” Paris said. “Mr. Endicott could have gone into the Bureau of Motor Registration Monday and looked up this license number. He could have written down the owner’s name and address on the slip of paper. Last night somebody wanted that slip of paper so badly, he murdered two people because of it.”

      “That sounds reasonable,” Hanft said.

      “It does,” Paris said. “And then again it’s pure speculation. But this is no time to be looking for a scapegoat. Let’s bring in the murderer first, then look to see where the blame is.”

      “And you’ll bring in this murderer?” Mrs. Endicott asked.

      “I don’t know,” Paris said. “We’re going to try. I’m very sorry about your son’s death, Mrs. Endicott. I know being sorry doesn’t mean anything. But I am sorry.”

      “Thank you,” Mrs. Endicott said. “And I’m sorry if I cast any reflection on Lieutenant Hallmark. But there’s one thing more, Inspector. I don’t care to have a guard at my front door.”

      “I’ll see he’s removed,” Paris said. “But I’d advise keeping a guard down the road at the entrance posts. Otherwise you’ll be bothered by curiosity seekers.”

      Hanft nodded. “That would be wise, Martha. These things usually bring out the morbid.”

      “Very well,” Mrs. Endicott said. “It makes little difference. I’m planning to close up and go back to the city.” She turned to the windows and looked out to the sea. Her voice was flat and toneless. “You see, I have nothing here now. Nothing at all.”