I Is for Innocent

Did Morley tell you what he was doing? I'm trying to piece this together and I don't want to jump to conclusions if I can help it."
    "Well, let's see now. I know the fellow got in touch with him, but he never went into any detail. I had my chemo Wednesday afternoon and I was in bad shape. Usually we spent time together in the evenings, but I was completely exhausted and ended up in bed. I slept right through the evening and most of Thursday."
    I glanced at Louise. "What about you? Did he talk to you about it?"
    She shook her head. "Not anything specific. Just the fact that they'd talked and he had work to do."
    "Did he seem to believe what David Barney had told him?"
    Louise thought about that and shook her head. "I'm not really sure. He must have given him some credit or he wouldn't have done anything."
    Dorothy spoke up. "Well, now that's not quite true, Loosie. Whatever the man said, he was trying to keep an open mind. Morley said it was foolish to make assumptions before all the facts were in."
    I said, "That's certainly what I was taught." I reached into my shoulder bag and retrieved the pack of photographs. "It looks like he took these sometime on Friday. Did he tell you what he was up to?"
    "That one I can answer," Louise said promptly. "We had an early lunch together. Since he was dieting, he liked to have his meals here at the house. Less temptation, he said. He left here about noon and went out to the office to pick up his mail. He had an early afternoon appointment and then he spent the rest of the day out looking for trucks. He dropped the film off on his way home and said he'd pick the prints up Saturday, which was when he started feeling poorly. He probably forgot all about it."
    "How'd he know what to look for?"
    "You mean what kind of truck it was? He didn't say anything about that. He thought the same truck might have been involved in some kind of accident, but he didn't say what it was or how he came to that conclusion. He'd picked up a description of it from the original police report."
    I thought about the timing. Everything must have come on the heels of his conversation with David Barney. "What happened on Saturday?"
    "With his work?" Louise asked.
    "I mean with anything." I looked from Louise to Dorothy, inviting either one to answer.
    Dorothy took my cue. "Nothing unusual. He went into the office and did some things out there. Mail and whatnot from the sound of it."
    "Did he have an appointment?"
    "If he was seeing anyone, he didn't say who. He came home around noon and just picked at his lunch. He usually took his meals in my room so we could visit while he ate. I asked him then if he was feeling all right. He said he had a headache and thought he was coming down with something. I thought that was more than Louise had bargained for – two invalids for the price of one. I sent him to bed. I couldn't believe he actually listened, but he did what I said. Turned out he had that terrible flu that's been going around. The poor thing. Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, stomach cramps."
    "Could it have been food poisoning instead?"
    "I don't see how, dear. All he had for breakfast was cereal with skim milk."
    "Morley really ate that? It doesn't sound like him," I said.
    Dorothy laughed. "His doctor put him on a diet at my insistence – fifteen hundred calories a day. Saturday lunch, he had a little soup and a few bites of dry toast. He said he was a little nauseated and didn't have much appetite. By midafternoon, he was sick as a dog. He spent half the night with his head in the commode. We joked about taking turns if I started feeling worse. Sunday morning he was better, though he didn't look good at all. His color was terrible, but the vomiting had stopped and he was able to keep a little ginger ale down."
    "Tell me about Sunday dinner. Did you fix it yourself?"
    "Oh dear no, I don't cook. I haven't cooked for months. Do you remember, Loosie?"
    "I made us a cold plate, poached chicken breast with salad," she said. From the kitchen came the piercing shriek of the kettle. She excused herself and headed off in that direction while Dorothy took up the narrative.
    "I was feeling better by then so I came out to the table just to keep them both company. He did complain some of chest pain, but I assumed it was indigestion. Louise was concerned, but I remember teasing him. I forget what I said now, but I was sure it wasn't serious. He pushed his plate back and got up. He had his hand to his chest and he was