Free Redemption by Howard Fast Page B

sign a search warrant for my apartment? He could have called me. What is all this about?”
    Liz asked them to step into the living room.
    â€œI suppose it’s the death of Mr. Hopper,” I said. “But what on earth are you looking for here?”
    â€œWell, sir, you can make it easy for us. Do you have a gun?”
    I went over to Liz and put my arm around her and said softly, “It’s all right, baby.” And then to Hull, “Yes. I have a small Colt twenty-two. It’s registered and I have a permit for it.”
    â€œWould you show us where you keep it?”
    I nodded. “If you’ll follow me.” I led them into my bedroom, where we had an eighteenth-century highboy. At the top were four small drawers, which I never opened. They were within reach, but only by standing on my toes could I see into them. In them, I kept Lena’s wedding ring, a few pieces of her jewelry, and the gun and permit. I had bought the gun more than twenty years ago, had never carried it or fired it—all of which I explained to the two detectives. Buying it was an impulse of the moment when the neighborhood around Columbia University began to change for the worse. As a matter of fact, I hated guns, having had an intimate acquaintance with them during World War II.
    The drawer where I had kept the gun was empty, except for a sheet of paper, which was the permit. I took it out and handed it to Hull. “I’m sure I kept it in that drawer,” I said, “but I don’t trust my memory that much. I’ll try the others.”
    I went through the other three drawers. They were empty. The wedding ring was gone, along with Lena’s other jewelry. Liz was watching all this, her face taut and frightened.
    â€œWell, I’ve been robbed. The gun is gone and my wife’s jewelry with it.”
    â€œYour wife died three years ago, Professor.” They appeared to know a lot about me. “When you put her jewelry in there, did you open the drawer where you say you kept the gun?” Hull asked.
    â€œNo. I knew where I put it. I wasn’t interested in the gun.”
    â€œThen if you were robbed, it was during the past three years?”
    â€œI suppose so.”
    â€œAnd you never reported the robbery?” Hull demanded. “You know the law.”
    â€œBecause I didn’t know it had taken place,” I said.
    â€œYou’re a lawyer, Professor, so I presume you know you don’t have to answer any of my questions?”
    â€œI know that, and at this point I don’t intend to. Do you want to continue your search?”
    â€œI’d like to look into those drawers.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    Hull was tall enough to see what the drawers contained. They were empty. He pointed to a gold chain bracelet on Liz’s dressing table. “Was that your wife’s?”
    â€œNo, and that’s the last question I intend to answer.”
    â€œOK. We’ll continue our search. We’ll try not to upset things. If you and your friend would stay in the living room, it will only take about an hour.”
    â€œGo ahead,” I agreed.
    It took about an hour, as he said, and Liz and I sat and waited. She asked me what it was all about and what it meant, and all I could tell her was that it had something to do with Hopper’s murder.
    â€œBut they don’t think you killed him, Ike? Don’t they understand that a man like you could not kill anyone? You’re the kindest, most gentle man I ever knew, and anyway, we were together all night Friday when he was killed. We had dinner together and we slept together. So how could you have anything to do with a murder that took place—when was it? What time?”
    â€œSometime after the office closed, as much as I know. The Times said they discovered him after midnight. No, darling—there’s no way they can incriminate me, and I’m not worried about it. It’s a police