Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 34, No. 13 & 14, Winter 1989

She smiled. “You’re as suspicious as the detective. He asked the San Francisco police to look into it. They didn’t have to look far. Several of them already knew her as a middle level hooker. When they found her, she was living far above her usual style, and they were relieved to learn her upward mobility was achieved through the legitimacy of marriage.” She turned to face him. “Just what the hell are you getting at, anyway?”

“I wish I knew,” said Denbow slowly. “Any good, All-American busybody would have learned all of this long ago. My problem is I overdo minding my own business. Since I like it that way, I assume others do, too. Zeigler is as much of a friend as I have and maybe, if I were a different person, I could have helped him somehow.”

He placed both hands on the sink and looked out the window at the house on the hill.

“You know, two weeks or so before she left him, I woke in the middle of the night with the feeling that someone was calling my name. I must have listened for two or three minutes. Didn’t hear a thing. I remembered I’d been listening to the radio while fixing a late bite and turned it down when the phone rang. Maybe I’d forgotten to turn it off. There was a full moon that night so I didn’t turn on any lights when I went out to the kitchen. I happened to look out this window. The moonlight turned everything silver except for a dark figure in a loose robe standing at the top of the lane.”

The rustling of things being removed from the paper bag stopped.

“Scared the hell out of me. Thought it was the Dark Angel and my time had come until I recognized Zeigler. He stood there in the moonlight for a minute or two before walking back to his house.”

Denbow turned from the window to find Amanda staring at him.

“With my superb sensitivity and caring nature, I never realized until after his wife left that he’d probably started down the hill to talk to me and stopped because it was the middle of the night and he’d remembered our agreement not to annoy each other. If I had any sense, I’d have walked out there and called him back.”

She folded her arms. “And now you’re off on some sort of guilt trip.”

“No. Talking to him might not have changed a thing. What I’m thinking of is that he turned to me for help and he still needs that. Something happened that night she left that took the heart out of him. It’s finally dawned on me that it would take far more than a wife, whom he probably wanted to get rid of anyway, walking out on him.”

She smiled. “You and the detective. That’s why he checked it out.”

He shrugged. “Maybe he should have followed up.”

“We don’t have the time or budget to chase psychological guesswork.”

“Let’s see if we can come up with more than that.”

He took her by the waist and lifted her to the counter.

She put her arms around his neck. “If you intend to get amorous, I prefer the bedroom.”

He removed her hands and stepped back. “Romance comes later. At the moment, you’re testifying from the witness chair as an expert in foul play.”

She crossed her legs and hiked her skirt to mid-thigh.

“Is that for my benefit or the jury’s?”

“Don’t get excited, counselor. Simply playing the part.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and paced the kitchen.

“The consensus is that the second Mrs. Zeigler left Mr. Zeigler to return to San Francisco.”

“Women leave their husbands every day.”

“Ah, but most have a compelling reason. What reason could Mrs. Zeigler have? She wasn’t abused, she had her Mercedes and several unlimited credit cards, and if she wanted to visit San Francisco, Mr. Zeigler would probably have driven her to the airport and bought the ticket for her.”

“Perhaps she simply wanted to shed Mr. Zeigler.”

“Again, ah. She could do that by divorcing him. Preferably here. The courts undoubtedly would have granted her a beneficial financial arrangement. Or she could have filed from San Francisco, but she hasn’t. Furthermore, by fleeing to San Francisco, she presented Mr. Zeigler with grounds to institute a divorce action as the injured party, which could well cost her money. Mrs. Zeigler is not the type to do anything that would cost her money. Why should she suddenly leave when it was to her benefit to stay?”

“Obviously, counselor, the benefits of leaving outweighed the benefits of staying.”

“Your report from the San Francisco police shows this to be true, but why would any man be so generous to a wife living in San Francisco, where she could do nothing to—” Den-bow cleared his throat discreetly “—earn her subsistence? Does this arrangement suggest something to you?”

The blue eyes were cool and steady. “You’re leading the witness. You want me to say Zeigler paid her to leave.”

“Try this — his transformation into a psychiatric gold mine and her high life in San Francisco were not a coincidence.”

“You’re suggesting blackmail?”

“I bow to your expertise.”

“What could he have done that would allow her to blackmail him?”