“Nora’s death, I presume?” Carson’s voice was scathing. “First, you insinuate I wanted to get rid of her so I could marry Olivia, then you contradict yourself by hinting that Nora’s death caused me to change my mind. None of it makes sense anyway,” he ended disgustedly, “because I hadn’t left the theater before I left Olivia backstage. So I couldn’t have known Nora was dead.”
Shayne paused for a moment to give his words significance. “I have to admit I don’t believe you’d left the theater since the first curtain went up. And that brings us to Mrs. Mattson.” Shayne turned his gaze to her.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t yet found a motive for you to have killed Screwloose Pete. The profit motive hardly holds water, even if you hoped Carson would inherit the mine, because your husband is a wealthy man and you had demanded a large property settlement with the divorce. But Nora Carson’s death would have been convenient. You weren’t fooling. And today, after her death, I learn you plan to go on with the divorce.”
Olivia Mattson replied with unshaken poise, “I explained to you this morning that my divorce has nothing to do with Frank. Nothing whatever,” she repeated, catching her lower lip between strong white teeth.
“Perhaps not. But you’d be more convincing if you stated another definite reason. Such as needing a large sum of money desperately — and receiving only a paltry allowance from your husband. Gambling in a clip-joint sometimes leads to such a situation. How about it, Two-Deck?” He swung his attention to Bryant. “Do you want to alibi the lady by giving us another reason why she might have wanted a divorce?”
Bryant lifted his cold gaze to Mrs. Mattson, then to Shayne. “You’re doing the talking, Shamus.”
“And I’ve still got a lot of it to do. But it would help a lot, Bryant, if you’d break loose and tell us which one of these people you came west to finger for your money. Knowing your collection methods, I figure the one who skipped out of New York without paying off would be quite ready to commit murder to clear up that debt.”
Bryant repeated, “You’re doing the talking.”
Shayne sighed. He turned back to Mrs. Mattson. “Do you wish to add anything to the unenlightening conversation I’ve just had with Mr. Two-Deck Bryant?”
Her eyes rounded at him. She shook her head firmly. “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean.”