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of persecuting him, and demanding a lawyer to defend
his constitutional rights. Personally, I just think he d
forgotten he d killed her. He even told George Clement
he didn t know when she was coming home. And when
Owens went out there to see why he didn t answer the
phone, he d been asleep. Good God in Heaven probably
in the same room! He s dangerous to himself and to
everybody else, as long as he s at large.
You refuse to consider the possibility he could be
innocent?
He sighed wearily. Listen. Everybody s innocent until
he s proved guilty, even a maniac. And I m not trying the
case, anyway; all I m trying to do is grab him before he
kills somebody else.
But what about this information from Norman? Or
even the fact that Mr. Warren hired him in the first
place?
To investigate his wife, after he d already killed her?
No, no. I mean the fact that somebody else was having
her followed, before she was killed. If you could find out
who hired this man Denman
There was pity in his voice. You mean you don t
know?
He couldn t have.
God knows how many detectives he s hired. We ll
probably hear next he s having me investigated. Or
Roberts.
All right, Mr. Scanlon, if you don t want to look into
this, I m afraid I can t cooperate with you. I ll tell him
Hold it! he broke in. Don t get yourself in trouble. Of
course I ll check it; that s what I m here for. I ll ask the
New Orleans police to question this Denman, but you
know as well as I do it was Warren that hired him.
I still say the whole thing s a horrible mistake; I know
Mrs. Warren was still alive after he left the house with
Mulholland.
The Long Saturday Night 69
It s no good, Mrs. Ryan. You admit yourself you can t
place the time nearer than fifteen minutes; it was before
he left, when he was bawling me out.
That was puzzling. What the devil were they talking
about?
All right, she said then. I ll do it.
Good for you. You ve been a lot of help.
I do think, though, you should let me know what
Denman says.
I will. He hung up.
I heard the deputy come in and pick up the telegram.
In the next two hours there were five telephone calls,
three of them from newspapers wanting background
information, one from a man who identified himself and
said he thought I was innocent, and the last from a man
who didn t identify himself and said when I was caught
and brought back I d be lynched. She signaled on the
intercom when she went out to lunch so I wouldn t pick
up the phone. It rang once while she was gone. When she
returned, she came on down the passage toward the
washroom and pushed open the side door. She slid a
chair up close to the desk and sat down.
What was that about with Scanlon? I asked.
I ve only got a minute, but that s what I wanted to
explain. I tried to call you last night I mean, night
before last to ask if you d heard the story going around
town that Roberts had been murdered instead of
accidentally shooting himself. But the line was busy.
What time? I asked quickly.
That s the trouble. All I m certain of is that it was right
around eleven-forty-five, between there and midnight.
They say it was eleven-forty-five when you left the house
with Mulholland, and that you d been on the phone,
talking to Scanlon. They think that s what it was. God, if
I d only looked at the clock.
There s no doubt she called somebody, as soon as I
was out the door.
But why? To get herself killed?
I don t know, I said helplessly. I m so fouled up now
I m not sure of my own name. Norman s information was
no help at all.
The Long Saturday Night 70
Well, there s still Denman. I wanted to tell you, if
necessary you can talk back on the intercom. Evans and
Turner aren t here, and nobody can hear you from the
street. I m facing the other way, so they can t see my lips
move. If somebody comes in, I ll cut the switch.
Good girl. You re wonderful.
She grinned sardonically. I guess I m a born cloak-
and-dagger type. But it s almost one; I m going to call
Doris Bentley.
She went out. I picked up the phone and waited tensely
while she dialed.
Crown Theatre.
Would you tell me what the feature is today, please?
Barbara asked.
Yes. It s Gregory Peck in The Bravados . My pulse
leaped; I was certain it was the right voice.
And what time does it start, please?
At one-thirty-five, just after the news and the cartoon.
Thank you.
Barbara hungup, and in a moment the intercom
hummed. What do you think? she asked softly.
I pressed the key and leaned close to the box. She s
the girl; I m sure of it.
What now?
I m going to talk to her.
How can you?
We ll wait till the picture starts and she s not busy.
Can you do an imitation of a long-lines operator?
Sure. But, listen if she reports it to Scanlon, he ll
know it s a fake. The phone company s watching all
incoming calls.
I don t think she ll report it, for the same reason she s
never identified herself. She s not eager for publicity.
Here s hoping.
I waited nervously while a half hour dragged by. The
chances were she d refuse to admit she was the one
unless I could scare her. She obviously didn t want to be
identified, either because she was mixed up in this thing
herself, or from a natural disinclination to admit she d
been in Roberts apartment which was the only way she
The Long Saturday Night 71
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