I said, “Get in your car. Drive like hell to police headquarters. When you get there, tell them you want to report a dead body. Remember, don’t tell them it’s a murder, and remember to tell them that you’re from Oakview.”
“Why the Oakview? I mean why should I tell them about it?”
“Because,” I said, “you’re going to have to take the part of an unsophisticated country girl.”
“But they’ll find out that I was up there before — when I asked the manager.”
“They’ll find that out anyway,” I said. “The best way you can stick your neck into a noose is to try to cover up. Don’t you understand?”
“Y-Yes,” she said dubiously. “Donald, can’t you go with me to the police station?”
“Absolutely not. That would be the worst thing that could happen. Forget all about coming here. Forget all about knowing me. Don’t mention my name. Don’t say anything about the B. L. Cool Bureau of Investigations. Remember now, you’ll have to follow those instructions absolutely. Tell your story just as it happened, only tell them that when you found out the woman was dead, you drove directly to the police station. Don’t let on that you know she was strangled. Say she was dead, that you didn’t touch anything. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t touch anything, did you?”
“No.”