Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 105, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 640 & 641, March 1995

“Sorry,” he said and told her again, “Detective Charlie Player.” He was glad Kentucky wasn’t hearing any of this. “I’m with the Cranford Police.”

“Are you collecting for the policeman’s ball or something?”

He laughed, but not too hard. He had to get on track and fast. “Say, I’ve started us off in a wrong direction. I’m afraid I’m calling with some bad news. It’s about James Fullerton...”

She went off like a rocket. A redhead, he’d bet. “What about Jim Fullerton? I kicked him out last Thursday. So whatever you have to say about him, I’m not interested.”

He took a breath and hoped she was ready for it. “I’m afraid the bad news is that he’s dead.”

For a moment all he heard was silence and then the throaty voice in a higher pitch. “You’re kidding. What happened to him?”

She sounded all right, but you could never tell. He’d take it slow. “We found him in the woods near the West Hills Golf Club. It looks as though he died sometime yesterday afternoon.”

There was a slight gasp that turned into a sour laugh. “Tell me if I have it right — all moss and ferns and mountain laurel and dogwood trees?”

“You’ve been there?”

“I’ve been there, and so has half the female population in the Northeast, probably. That’s where Jim tried to take my best friend while I was away. She told me when I came back. I kicked him out.”

Smart girl, he said to himself, and decided to go straight to the point. “Miss Clarke, where were you yesterday afternoon?”

“In San Francisco,” she said without a flinch. “My flight got into Providence an hour ago. Why are you asking me that?”

“Well, you see, it looks as though Jim Fullerton was murdered.”

“Murdered! And you think I...” He heard the beginning of another laugh, but it stopped midstream. For a while all he got was silence, and then he realized she was crying. He waited, giving her time. Even a louse deserves a tear, he supposed.

When she came back on the line, her voice was steady. “I’ve been acting like this is some kind of joke.”

“That was my fault,” he said.

“Well, maybe, but I gave you some room.” She paused. “Jim’s dead. I mean dead. Murdered... Don’t ask me why, but I suddenly thought of his wife and I just started to cry. I didn’t know he was married, not at first. I met him three months ago. He was on one of my flights from Chicago. He’d been at a convention. He really didn’t mean that much to me.”

Player listened to her take a deep breath and wondered if she was going to cry again, but instead she said, “I don’t know if his wife is going to want to hear this from me. But would you tell her how sorry I am?”

“I’ll do that,” he said. “Tell me, what was it about this guy that had you fall for him?”

“He was smart. He seemed to know about a lot of things. He was good at asking questions and then listening. I think maybe it was the listening that got to me. Not many people know how to listen. Men, particularly, aren’t good at that.”

Player had just finished checking out Cindy Clarke’s story with the airline when Kentucky walked into the room. He could tell from the brightness in his eyes that he had some news.

“I just talked to the lab. There were no identifiable prints on the golf club, except for Fullerton’s. Too bad, but no surprise.” He settled himself into the chair alongside Player’s desk. “His car made up for it, though. Enough prints and hair and makeup for a beauty parlor. That Fullerton was one busy boy.”

Player shook his head. “I don’t get a guy like that. All he was interested in was scoring?”

Kentucky shrugged. “Don’t look to me for answers on that. How did you make out with the girlfriend?”

“She wasn’t exactly bowled over when I told her he was dead. But she’s in the clear. She was in San Francisco. And that checks out with the airline.”

Kentucky nodded. “So that eliminates her. Did she have anything else to say?”

“It seems she and Fullerton parted company. She threw him out last week when she found out he’d been making moves on a friend of hers.” Player frowned. “I asked her what was so special about him. She said he was a good listener, and that most men weren’t. That gave me something to think about.”

“And what did you come up with?”

“Hell, I don’t know,” Player said, and leaned back in his chair. “What did the minister have to say?”

“The three of them all went to Essex together, just like Sarah said. But they didn’t bring her home. The pastor said her car was at the church, and they left her there at three o’clock.”

Player took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks. “So you think she lied to us?”

“We’ll have to find out about that,” Kentucky said, and Player wondered if he was disappointed. He’d had the feeling the old blue-grass bachelor might have been ready to strum his guitar for the lady.

Kentucky looked at his watch. “Let’s get on over there. If she still has her lights on, we’ll ring her doorbell. If not, we’ll wait until tomorrow. I’d sure like to hear what she has to say about this.”