Beware the Young Stranger Read Online Free PDF Page B

needed to get out of that room. He walked to the front door and lit a cigarette. An ambulance with Dorcas Ferguson’s body inside was vanishing around the curve in the driveway. He looked away from the heavy vehicle.
    In one respect, he thought, Britt had shown tact, barring TV and newspaper reporters. Dorcas would not be subjected to the horror of having pictures of her battered corpse frontpaged all over the state.
    A station wagon eased to a stop at the end of the string of parked cars. Ralph Hibbs backed out and came puffing up the driveway.
    Behind his glasses, Hibbs’s gentle eyes were bewildered. His large, soft body was shaking.
    â€œIt’s true, John?” he said. “It’s true?”
    â€œI’m afraid so, Ralph.”
    â€œThose policemen guarding the driveway … I had a time convincing them I was a friend, not a reporter. Have they taken her away, John?”
    Vallancourt nodded.
    â€œI can’t believe it! How could it have happened?”
    Easily, he thought. In a moment of violence, she was shoved, went over backward, and the edge of the table was waiting for the base of her skull. Very easily.
    â€œThe news is flying around town,” Hibbs babbled. “There was a special bulletin on TV. Said that she’d been murdered and her nephew was being sought. Have they caught him yet?”
    â€œNot to my knowledge, Ralph.”
    â€œJust think of it! A couple days ago we were playing golf with him, and Dorcas was full of plans for his future …”
    There was movement behind Vallancourt. He glanced over his shoulder, saw the detective.
    â€œHello, Woody,” Ralph Hibbs said. “Terrible thing! Have they assigned you to the case?”
    â€œI’d rather be chasing down a nameless punk,” said Britt gloomily. “Well, at least I can wrap it up quick and get it off my back.”
    â€œIt’s so damn unbelievable,” Hibbs said. “Dorcas had taken Keith in, was giving him the chance for a new start.”
    â€œAnd got her head stove in for her trouble.” Britt added a bitter note: “Too bad you and Mr. Conway let him get away, Mr. Vallancourt.”
    Vallancourt let it pass. He had been the victim of surprise, in a moment of shock. If Britt didn’t understand that, no explanation would suffice.
    â€œWhat do you think happened, Britt?” he asked.
    â€œIt’s a cinch it goes back to that Florida murder,” the lanky detective said. “They almost had a case against him, you know, and Dorcas Ferguson was nobody’s fool. Something the boy said or did must have told her he was that girl’s killer, all right. The way she called her brother-in-law and you, Mr. Vallancourt, shows how upset she was. She wanted help and advice. I figure she wasn’t quite ready to pull the string on the murdering louse.”
    The two men said nothing as Britt paused to light a cigar. “Miss Ferguson was alone, remember. It was the maid’s day off, and Mildred Morgan had taken the chauffeur-handyman to the center for the week’s shopping. We’ve just finished talking to them.
    â€œMiss Ferguson was in her study when the servants went grocery buying. She must have been there when Keith Rollins showed, suspecting a chill wind was about to blow his way. A few words with his aunt convinced him of it.
    â€œI don’t think the boy wanted or intended to kill her,” Britt frowned. “He got panicky, is all. Wanted to make tracks. He needed dough and had a fat chance of getting it from his aunt right then. But she always kept a metal cashbox in her desk. And, friends, that box is now missing.”
    â€œBut she wasn’t killed in her study,” Hibbs protested.
    Woody Britt gave him a sour look. “He threatened her, see? And took the box. Started out of the house, coming through the doorway connecting the living room and study. You expect her just to sit there? Not Miss Dorcas