In the Still of the Night

it, “I saw you standing near the edge of the woods during the morning yesterday. I thought you looked fatter than usual. You had the manuscript under your shirt, didn’t you?”
    Bud didn’t even turn to look at her. “I was going to throw it in the river with that rope from the garage tied around it. But there was no way to do that without being seen, I realized, and it might have floated. So I went into the woods, thinking to bury it. Then I ran into that loony little man with the satchel. I couldn’t let him see me. So I hit him.”
    His voice and manner were so cool, so seemingly reasonable, that Lily felt sick. “You didn’t know, for all your eavesdropping, that Henry had heard the conversation between Mrs. Ethridge and Mr. West about the appendix?“
    “Why, no, miss. If I’d known that I’d have killed him outright.“ He thought for a moment and went on, “I was going to drag him farther away from the paths, deeper into the woods, and then I heard Mr. West walking nearby. I knew from his tread. He had a way of putting his right foot down just a little harder than his left. I don’t think any of you noticed that, did you?”
    He glanced around the room calmly, as if he were talking about nothing more serious than the weather. “I didn’t want Mr. West to know what I’d done for him. It wouldn’t be seemly. And with his bad temper, it wouldn’t be safe for me. He was likely to fly off the handle someday and say something he shouldn’t. So I left the little man and buried the manuscript deeper in the woods and decided not to go back to him. No point in him dying, too. He didn’t know anything. And I knew he’d be found. I’d have found him myself in another hour if someone else didn’t.”
    Walker said, “You don’t appear to have any guilt about any of this.“
    “But I do,“ Bud said. “I was doing my job. Taking care of Captain West, but I hadn’t known that the Captain saw me in the woods with the little man. That’s why he was so upset that he had a heart attack. It’s my fault he died.”
    He got up slowly, like an old man. “And now I have two more jobs. I must put his things in order. And my own, so you can take me to jail. I’ll probably be executed. It doesn’t matter. I have no life anymore. And if not, I’ll make a good prisoner. I’m very well organized, you know.”
    The rest of the people in the room were too stunned by this statement to react.
    Walker finally cleared his throat. “Very well. We’ll have to get your statement in writing and signed. Robert, will you call the county sheriff to pick him up? Dr. Polhemus, I’d like you to accompany me and Mr. Carpenter upstairs.”
    The three of them walked up the steps very formally, almost like a military honor guard with Bud Carpenter in the middle. Walker himself could hardly believe how calm Carpenter was. And how calm he himself was.
    They entered the larger room and Bud set about gathering John West’s clothing and belongings. He folded the clothes neatly and efficiently. Put the extra pair of shoes into flannel shoe bags in order not to soil the rest of the clothing.
    Walker watched, amazed. The clothing would probably go to some charity or another. What was the point in being so orderly? But Bud Carpenter had probably always been an obsessively orderly man. Let him do this one last thing for West.
    When Bud was almost done and the suitcase was nearly full, he started toward the door to the rest of the suite. Walker had been sitting down on a chair. He rose and said, “Where are you going?“
    “To get Mr. West’s shaving things,“ as if it were obvious they couldn’t be left behind. It would be a dereliction of his duty.
    Walker started to follow, but turned when Dr. Polhemus said, “The man is utterly insane.”
    Walker was about to respond when the gunshot rang out.

Chapter 25

    By Sunday night, all the guests were gone except Cecil, who had found his dirty but readable manuscript buried behind the garage. The Prinneys, the Brewsters, Phoebe, Mimi, Cecil and Jack Summer were sitting around the huge dining room table all at one end so they didn’t have to shout at one another.
    Jack Summer was angry. “You could have called me when you figured it out. I could have been here for a real scoop.“
    “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think about scoops. I was thinking about a murderer who was on the verge of getting away with it,“ Lily said, for the third time.
    Jack had another grievance. “And