Monday
Chapter 13
At seven-thirty the following morning, Hammond entered the hospital carrying a copy of the Post and Courier and his briefcase. He stopped at the information desk to ask the room number, which he had failed to get from Steffi. He also stopped at a vending machine for a cup of coffee.
He was wearing a necktie, but in deference to the hot day that was promised, he had left his suit jacket in his car, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and unbuttoned his collar button. His bearing was militant, his face as dark as a thundercloud.
To Steffi’s credit, the others were already assembled when he arrived. She was there, along with Rory Smilow, a frumpy woman in an ill-fitting police uniform, and the man in the hospital bed. Steffi’s eyes were puffy, as though she hadn’t slept well. After a muttered round of greetings, she said, “Hammond, you remember Corporal Mary Endicott. We’ve worked with her before.”
He dropped his briefcase and newspaper in a chair in order to shake hands with the policewoman sketch artist. “Corporal Endicott.”
“Mr. Cross.”
Steffi then introduced him to Mr. Daniels, a guest of their city from Macon, Georgia, who was presently nibbling at the bland food on his breakfast tray. “I’m sorry your visit to Charleston hasn’t been the best, Mr. Daniels. Are you feeling better?”
“Good enough to get out of here. If possible, I’d like to get this over with before my wife comes to pick me up.”
“How quickly we finish depends on how precise your descriptions are. Corporal Endicott is excellent, but she can only do as well as you can.”
Daniels looked worried. “Would I have to testify in court? I mean, if you catch this lady and she turns out to be the one who killed that man, would I have to point her out at the trial?”
“That’s a possibility,” Hammond told him.
The man sighed unhappily. “Well, if it comes to that, I’ll do my civic duty.” He shrugged philosophically. “Let’s get on with it.”
Hammond said, “First, I’d like to hear your story, Mr. Daniels.”
“He’s related it to us several times,” Smilow said. “It really doesn’t amount to much.”
Beyond his perfunctory good morning, up to this point Smilow had remained as silent and still as a lizard sunning itself. Often Smilow’s posture seemed indolent, but to Hammond he gave off the impression of a reptile lying in wait, constantly watching for an opportunity to strike.
Hammond acknowledged that comparing Smilow to a serpent was based solely on his unmitigated dislike of the man. To say nothing of being unfair to serpents.
Smilow’s gray suit was perfectly tailored and well pressed. His white shirt was crisp enough to bounce a quarter, his necktie tightly knotted. Not a hair was out of place. His eyes were clear and alert. After the rough night Hammond had spent tossing and turning, he resented Smilow’s bandbox appearance and unflappable composure.
“It’s your call, of course,” he said politely. “This is your investigation.”
“That’s right, it is.”
“But as a courtesy—”
“You didn’t show much courtesy to me when you arranged this meeting without consulting me first. You say it’s my investigation, but on surface it appears that it’s yours. As usual, your actions belie your words, Hammond.”
Leave it to Smilow to pick a fight on a morning when he was feeling truculent himself. “Look, I went out of town the day Pettijohn was killed, so I’m playing catch-up. I’ve read the newspaper accounts, but I know you don’t share all your leads with the media. All I’m asking is that the details be filled in for me.”
“When the time is right.”
“What’s wrong with now?”
“Okay, guys, King’s X!” Steffi stepped between them, forming a cross with her index fingers. “It really doesn’t matter who arranged this meeting, does it? In fact, Hammond, Smilow had already called Corporal Endicott by the time I reached her last night.” The plump, matronly officer confirmed this with a nod. “So technically Smilow had the idea first, as he should since the case is his baby until he turns it over to us. Right?
“And, Smilow, if Hammond also thought of the artist, that only means that great minds think alike, and this case can use all the great minds it can muster. So let’s get started and not detain these people any longer than necessary. Mr. Daniels is in somewhat of a hurry, and we’ve all got other work to do. Speaking for myself, I wouldn’t mind hearing his account once more.”
Smilow conceded with a curt semi-nod. Daniels recounted his experience of Saturday afternoon. When he concluded, Hammond asked him if he was certain he had seen no one else.
“You mean once I reached the fifth floor? No, sir.”
“You’re sure?”