Just Another Sucker

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Mrs. Carey said. ‘He was broad all right, but he wasn’t tall. He was like you,’ and she pointed at Meadows.

He scowled at her.

‘I’m talking to your husband,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to you later.’

‘My husband never notices anything,’ the woman said. ‘It’s no good asking him. His brother’s the same. You can no more rely on anything my husband says than you can rely on anything his brother says. I should know. I’ve been married to him now for twenty-six years.’

Ignoring her, Meadows said, ‘You had the impression, Mr. Carey, this man was tall. How tall?’

Carey hesitated, looking apologetically at his wife.

‘It’s hard to say, sir. The light wasn’t good. I certainly got the impression that he was tall.’

Meadows made a movement of exasperation. He pointed to Renick.

‘That tall?’

Carey stared at Renick, dropped his hat again and fumblingly picked it up.

‘Something like it. Maybe a little taller.’

The woman snorted.

‘I wish I knew what the matter is with you,’ she said. ‘The man wasn’t any taller than this gentleman here,’ and again she pointed to Meadows.

‘I was under the impression, my dear, he – he was a big man,’ Carey said and he wiped his bald head with his handkerchief.

Meadows swung around to me.

‘Stand up, will you?’ he said impatiently.

I was the tallest man in the room. Slowly, I stood up. My heart was thumping so violently I was scared they would hear it.

‘This gentleman is a giant!’ the woman said. ‘I keep telling you the other one was not tall at all.’

Carey was staring at me.

‘It seems to me,’ he said hesitantly, ‘this gentleman is about the same size in build and in height to the man in the car.’

I sat down. Carey still continued to stare at me.

‘Okay, tell me what happened. You collided with this guy’s car?’ Meadows said.

Carey dragged his eyes from me.

‘I was in my car and I backed out, I had forgotten to put on my lights. I backed right into his car. I just didn’t see it.’

‘You did nothing of the kind! You had backed out and this fellow came along and ran into you,’ his wife interrupted. ‘It was entirely his fault. Then he got abusive and drove away. When he parked his car, he ran off. If it hadn’t been his fault, why did he run away?’

‘I don’t give a damn who’s fault it was,’ Meadows snarled. ‘All I’m interested in is finding this man.

Now, sir,’ he went on to Carey, ‘did you notice anything else about this fellow? Could you make a guess at his age?’

‘From his voice and the way he moved, I’d say he was a man in his early thirties,’ Carey said. He looked hopefully at his wife. ‘Wouldn’t you say that, my dear?’

‘How can anyone tell by a voice how old anyone is?’ his wife snapped. ‘My husband reads detective stories,’ she went on to Meadows, ‘read, read, read – always with his head in a book. People shouldn’t read detective stories – they are unhealthy.’

‘You couldn’t guess his age?’ Meadows asked.

‘Perhaps I could, but I’m not going to. I don’t believe in misleading the police,’ and she glared at her husband.

‘Did you get an idea what this man was wearing, Mr. Carey?’

The little man hesitated.

‘I wouldn’t like to say definitely, but I had the impression it was a sports suit. It could have been brown. As he got out of the car, I did think the jacket had pouch pockets.’

‘How can you stand there and tell this gentleman all this nonsense I don’t know,’ his wife said. ‘It was dark: you couldn’t have seen the colour of his suit; not with your eyesight anyway.’ She turned to Meadows. ‘Talk about a vain man. He should wear his spectacles all the time. I’m continually telling him. He shouldn’t drive without his spectacles.’

‘My eyesight isn’t all that bad, Harriet,’ Carey said, showing a little spirit. ‘I only need my glasses for close work.’

Meadows pointed to a newspaper lying on his desk about six feet away.

‘Can you read the headlines from where you are standing, Mr. Carey?’

Carey read the headlines without hesitation.

Meadows looked over at Renick and shrugged, then he asked, ‘Was this man wearing a hat?’

‘No, sir.’

Meadows glanced sarcastically at the woman.

‘Would you agree to that?’

‘He wasn’t wearing a hat, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have one,’ the woman said angrily.

‘Was he carrying one?’

She hesitated, then said crossly, ‘I didn’t notice.’

While this was going on, Carey was again looking at me, his expression bewildered.

‘Mr. Carey,’ Meadows said, ‘was this man dark or fair?’

‘I couldn’t say, sir. The light wasn’t good enough.’

‘He spoke to you?’

‘He yelled at us,’ the wife put in. ‘He knew he was in the wrong. He…’

‘Would you recognise his voice again?’ Meadows asked paying no attention to the interruption.

Carey shook his head.

‘I don’t think I would, sir. He said very little.’

‘What time did the accident happen?’

‘Ten minutes past ten. I particularly looked at my watch.’

‘Then this fellow ran off. Where did he go?’

‘I think he got into a car that was waiting outside the park. Anyway, after he had run off, I heard a car start up and drive off.’

‘You didn’t see the car?’

‘No, but I did see the glare of its headlights.’