One Good Deed(66)

“Sure, I’m sure. That’s his driver sitting in the front seat.”

“Wonder what he’s doing here?”

The front door opened as he said this, and Lucas Tuttle appeared there.

Archer saw that he was putting a sheaf of papers into his suit jacket pocket.

“Let’s ask him.”

They faced off with Tuttle at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door.

Tuttle had on a checkered sport coat, contrasting charcoal slacks, and black-and-white leather lace-up shoes. His bow tie held a pattern of black-and-white swirls. His crown-dented fedora covered the snowy hair. The bowl end of a pipe stuck out of his breast jacket pocket.

“Archer, what are you doing here?” he asked.

Shaw stepped forward and showed his badge. “He’s with me. I’m Lieutenant Detective Irving Shaw, with the state police.”

“You certainly look like an officer of the law,” said a clearly unimpressed Tuttle.

“Can I inquire as to what you’re doing here?”

As he asked this, Archer glanced toward the front of the house. In a window next to the door, he saw Malcolm Draper staring out at them. When he saw that Archer had spotted him, the man abruptly moved away.

Tuttle said, “I was here paying my respects to Marjorie on the death of her husband.”

“I understand that you owe her a debt.”

“And who do you hear that from?” said Tuttle, glowering at Archer.

“Never mind. Did you pay her?”

“I have Mr. Archer here working on that for me. So you can ask him about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Just a minute there, fella,” said Shaw. “You want to tell me where you were between the hours of midnight and six a.m. on the day Hank Pittleman was found murdered?”

“I was in Houston, Texas, with about ten other gentlemen. We were up conducting business until nearly three in the morning. So unless you think I can fly like that Superman fellow, I think you and I have no further business.”

“You get me the names and addresses of these ten gents.”

“I’ll gladly have my secretary provide them. Never let it be said that Lucas Tuttle was not a good partner to the law.”

He tipped his hat, walked to his car, climbed in, and they drove off.

“I don’t like that man,” said Shaw. “He’s too smart and smug for his own good.”

“I don’t much like him, either,” said Archer. “Especially when he’s pointing a shotgun at my crotch.”

Shaw knocked on the front door while Archer stood beside him looking awkward.

“So those two gals, Marjorie and Jackie, met head-to-head, did they? How’d that work out?”

“Don’t try to figure out women, Mr. Shaw. You would just be wasting your time.”

“Hell, boy, I know that. I got a wife and a daughter. But see, my job requires me to do just that. Figure people out.”

“You been out here before, then?” asked Archer.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Because you didn’t start jawing at the size of this place.”

Shaw grinned at this comment. “Well, I sure did the first time I came out here. This house looks as big as some of the German factories I dropped bombs on.”

The door opened, and the same young maid appeared there.

She smiled when she saw Archer.

“Can I help you?” she said sweetly.

Shaw took out his star once more. “Lieutenant Detective Irving Shaw with the state police to see Mrs. Pittleman. I’ve been out here before. I called ahead and she’s expecting us.” He pointed at Archer. “And this here’s Archer.”

The maid hiked her brows enticingly and smiled. “Oh, I know. I seen Mr. Archer before.”

She led them down the same hall as before. The maid opened the door and motioned them in. This was not the conservatory Archer had been in before, but a walnut-paneled library full of books and the smell of wood smoke. Though it was still fairly warm outside, there was a small fire in the fireplace. Marjorie lay on a small hunter green davenport set against one wall. She had on a long, simple beige dress over her husky figure and black shoes with fancy bows. She had just affixed her pince-nez to her nose and peered up at them through the lenses. Archer noted a tall glass of an amber liquid on the rocks on the small table next to her.

She said, “Thank you, Amy, you may leave us now.”

Amy gave a little curtsy, glanced with a smile at Archer, and departed.

“Please, gentlemen, sit.” She pointed to two chairs upholstered in tiger stripes and gilded wood across from her.

The men took off their hats and sat.

“Mr. Archer, isn’t it?” said Marjorie.

“Yes, ma’am. I was out here last time with Jackie.”

“Hmm, right, Jackie Tuttle,” said Marjorie disapprovingly.

“Ma’am,” began Shaw. “Sorry to have to come back and trouble you again.”

“Well?”

Archer interjected. “We saw Lucas Tuttle leaving here. He said he came to pay his respects?”

“That’s right,” she said.

“Sort of surprised me,” said Archer. “I didn’t think the two men liked each other.”