"What does it sound like I'm saying?"
"You mean..
"Sure. Look, I'm playing this straight with you, Carella.
My hate is big enough to share, believe me.
And I don't want to see my neck stretched for something somebody else did, even if he deserved it."
"Then your father..
"My father was a lecherous old toad who kept Christine in this house by threatening to cut David off penniless if they left.
Period. Not nice, but there it is."
"Not nice at all. And Christine?"
"Try talking to her. An iceberg. Maybe she liked the setup, how do I know? At any rate, she knew who buttered her bread. And it was well-buttered, believe me."
"Maybe you all got together, Mr. Scott, to do the job. Is that a possibility?"
"This family couldn't get together to start a bridge game," Alan said.
"It's a wonder we managed to open that door in concert.
You've heard of togetherness? This family motto is 'apartheid."~ Maybe it'll be different now that he's dead-but I doubt it."
"Then you believe that someone in this house-one of your brothers, or Christinekilled your father?"
"Yeah. That's what I believe."
"Through a locked door?"
"Through a locked bank vault, if you will, with six inches of lead on every damn wall.
Where there's a will, there's a way.
"And there was a fat will here," Carella said.
Alan Scot did not smile.
"I'll tell you something, Detective Carella. If you work this from the motive angle, you'll go nuts.
We've got enough motive in this run-down mansion to blow up the entire city."
"How then, Mr. Scott, would you suggest that I work it?"
"I'd find out how somebody managed to hang the bastard through a locked door.
Figure out how it was done, and you'll also figure out who did it. That's my guess, Mr.
Carella."
"And, of course," Carella said, "that's the easiest part of detective work. Everyone knows that."
Alan Scott did not smile.
"I'm leaving," Carella said.
"There isn't much more I can do here tonight."
"Will you be back tomorrow?"
"Maybe. If I think of anything."
"Otherwise?"
"Otherwise it's a suicide. We've got motive, as you say, plenty of it. And we've got means. But, man, we sure are lacking in the opportunity department. I'm no genius, Mr. Scott. I'm just a working stiff. If we still suspect a homicide, we'll dump the case in the Open File." Carella shrugged.
"You didn't strike me as being that kind of a man, Mr. Carella," Alan said.
"Which kind of a man?"
"The kind who gives up easily."
Carella stared at him for a long moment.
"Don't confuse the Open File with the Dead Letter department of the Post Office," he said at last.
"Good night, Mr. Scott."
When Teddy Carella walked into the squad room at two minutes past seven, Peter Byrnes thought he would have a heart attack. He saw her coming down the corridor and at first he couldn't believe he was seeing correctly and then he recognized the trim figure and proud wafic of Steve's wife, and he walked quickly to the railing.
"What are you doing?" Virginia said.
"Somebody coming," Byrnes answered, and he waited. He did not want Virginia to know this was Carella's wife. He had watched the woman grow increasingly more tense and jumpy since the pistol whipping of Meyer, and he did not know what action she might conceivably take against Teddy were she to realize her identity. In the corner of the room, he could see Hawes administering to Meyer. Badly cut, Meyer tried to peer out of his swollen eyes. His lip hung loose, split down the center by the unyielding steel of the revolver. Hawes, working patiently with iodine, kept mumbling over and over again, "Easy, Meyer, easy," and there was a deadly control to his voice as if he-as much as the nitro-were ready to explode into the squad room
"Yes, Miss?" Byrnes said.
Teddy stopped dead outside the railing, a surprised look on her face. If she had read the lieutenant's lips correctly "Can I help you, Miss?" he said.
Teddy blinked.
"Get in here, you," Virginia barked from her desk. Teddy could not see the woman from where she stood. And, not seeing her, she could not "hear" her. She waited now for Byrnes to spring the punch line of whatever gag he was playing, but his face remained set and serious, and then he said, "Won't you come in, Miss?" and-puzzled even more now-Teddy entered the squad room
She saw Virginia Dodge immediately and knew intuitively that Byrnes was trying to protect her.
"Sit down," Virginia said.
"Do as I tell you and you won't get hurt. What do you want here?"
Teddy did not, could not answer.
"Did you hear me? What are you doing here?"
Teddy shook her head helplessly.
"What's the matter with her?" Virginia asked ini patiently
"Damnit, answer me."
"Don't be frightened, Miss," Byrnes said.
"Nothing will happen to you if…" He stopped dead, feigning discovery, and then turned to Virginia.
"I t~… I think she's a deaf mute," he said.
"Come here," Virginia said, and Teddy walked to her. Their eyes locked over the desk.
"Can you hear?"
Teddy touched her lips.
"You can read my lips?"
Teddy nodded.
"But you can't speak?"
Teddy shook her head.
