Free Fletch's Fortune by Gregory McDonald Page B

closed?”
    “Yes. In a moment I heard the television here in the living room go on, softly—one of those morning news and features network shows Walter always hated so much—so I got up and went into the bathroom.”
    “Excuse me. How did your husband get from the bathroom to the living room without coming back through your bedroom?”
    “He went through Junior’s bedroom, of course. He didn’t want to disturb me.”
    “Mrs. March, are you saying that, in fact, you did not see your husband at all yesterday morning?”
    “Oh, Captain Neale.”
    “I’m sorry. I mean, alive?”
    “No. I didn’t.”
    “Then how do you know it was he in the bathroom yesterday morning?”
    “Captain, we’ve been married fifty years. You get used to the different sounds of your family. You know them, even in a hotel suite.”
    “Okay. You were in the bathroom. The television was playing softly in the living room.…”
    “I heard the door to the suite close again, so I thought Walter had gone down for coffee.”
    “Had the television gone off?”
    “No.”
    “So, actually, someone could have come into the suite at that point.”
    “No. At first, I thought Junior might have come back, but he couldn’t have.”
    “Why not?”
    “I didn’t hear them talking.”
    “Would they have been talking? Necessarily?”
    “Of course. About the headlines. The newspapers. The bulletins on the television. My husband and son are newspapermen, Captain Neale. Every day there are new developments.…”
    “Yes. Of course.”
    “After getting the newspapers,” Junior said, “I went into the coffee shop and had breakfast.”
    “So, Mrs. March, you think you heard the suite door close again, but your husband hadn’t left the suite, and you think no one entered the suite because you didn’t hear talking?”
    “I guess that’s right. I could be mistaken, of course. I’m trying to reconstruct.”
    “Pardon, but where were you physically in the bathroom when you heard the door close the second time?”
    “I was getting into the tub. I don’t shower in the morning. I discovered years ago that if I take a shower in the morning, I can never get my hair organized again, for the whole day.”
    “Yes. You had already run the tub?”
    “Yes. While I was brushing my teeth. And all that.”
    “So there must have been a period of time, while the tub was running, that you couldn’t have heard anything from the living room—not the front door, not the television, not talking?”
    “I suppose not.”
    “So the second time you heard the door close, when you were getting into the tub, you actually could have been hearing someone leave the suite.”
    “Oh, my. That’s right. Of course.”
    “It would explain your son’s not having returned, your husband’s not having left, and your not hearing talking.”
    “How clever you are.”
    “Then, what? You were sitting in the tub.…”
    “I’m not sure. I think I heard the door open again. I believe I did. Because, later, when I went into the living room, when I… I… the door to the corridor was open.”
    “All right, Mother.”
    “I’m sorry, Captain Neale. This is difficult.”
    “Would you like to take a break? Get some coffee? Something?”
    “Would you like an eye-opener, Captain Neale?”
    “An eye-opener?”
    “I’m making myself a Bloody Mary,” Junior said.
    “Oh, no, Junior,” Lydia March said.
    “A little early, for me,” Neale said.
    “Let’s get it over with,” Lydia said. “I heard Walter coughing. He never coughs. Not even in the morning. He’s never smoked.… Then I heard him choking. It got worse. I called out, ‘Walter! Are you all right? Walter!’”
    “Take your time, Mrs. March.”
    “Then the choking stopped, and I thought he was all right. The telephone began ringing. Walter always picked up the phone on the first ring. It rang twice, it rang three times. I became very alarmed. I screamed, ‘Walter!’ I got out of the tub as fast as I could,