The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree (Berkley Prime Crime)

God’s name you managed to find—” He swallowed. “So Dr. Harper is willing to say that his brother was having an affair with Miss Scott? Why would he do that?”
    “Because he was in love with Bunny, too,” Lizzy said quietly. “He wants to see that the man who killed her pays for what he did.”
    “But even if Fred Harper and Bunny were having an affair, that doesn’t prove he killed her,” Mr. Moseley protested. “What possible motive could he have?”
    Verna put the deposit book on the desk. “She was blackmailing him. He was putting money into her bank account. Here’s the proof.”
    He picked it up and began turning the pages, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ten dollars a week? On the salary of a bank teller? Where in the world was he getting it?”
    “From other accounts at the bank, maybe,” Lizzy suggested. “We think he might have been stealing money. And if the sheriff searches his house, we think he’ll find that gun.”
    He looked up. “The sheriff?”
    Verna leaned forward. “Sheriff Burns will never listen to Lizzy and me. But he’ll listen to you. If you show him the photograph and the deposit book and tell him what Dr. Harper said about the gun, he’ll have to pay attention.”
    “But how am I going to explain all this?” he asked. “Where am I supposed to have gotten this information?”
    “That’s easy,” Lizzy said. “Tell him that one of Bunny’s friends brought you this stuff and told you that she was sure that there was something fishy about Fred Harper’s story.”
    “If he asks who,” Verna put in, “tell him that’s a matter of attorney-client privilege.” She put a quarter on the desk. “Here’s our retainer. We’d like a receipt, please.”

    Within the half hour, Mr. Moseley was at the sheriff’s office, presenting the photograph and the deposit book, and reporting Dr. Harper’s oral statement about the gun and the car. When the sheriff asked him where all this came from, he said the information was privileged—although his client might be willing to consider revealing his or her identity if the matter could not be resolved in any other way.
    But it was resolved. The sheriff, feeling as if he had just been handed a present (which he had), got into his car and drove straight to Monroeville, where he spent the better part of an hour obtaining a signed affidavit from Dr. Harper, who decided that voluntary cooperation was better than the alternative. Then he drove straight back and got the county judge to sign a search warrant.
    The search of Fred Harper’s house was successful, at least as far as the sheriff was concerned (Mr. Harper would not have agreed), for a .22 revolver was discovered in the springs of the parlor sofa. Confronted with that, and with the photo, the bank book, and the statement that his brother provided, Mr. Harper broke down and confessed to shooting Miss Scott.
    His motive? He had made the mistake of bragging to her that he had taken some money from the bank in Monroeville, and she knew that he was continuing the practice at Darling Savings and Trust. She was already blackmailing him to the tune of ten dollars a week. Thinking that this ought to be a family affair (and recalling the sight of Miss Scott in her teddy), he had asked her to marry him. She refused. She wanted more money or she would tell what she knew. He killed her to keep her from spilling the beans.
    The day after Mr. Harper was arrested and charged with murder, an additional charge of attempted embezzlement was filed against him. He was accused of taking nearly five thousand dollars in small amounts from various depositors’ accounts and depositing the money here and there. Some of it had gone into Bunny’s account, the rest into various inactive accounts, some of them belonging to dead people. The money, however, was still in the bank. Mr. Johnson was able to reverse these deposits and the cash was returned to the accounts from which it had been stolen. Nobody lost a dime. And best of all (as far as the Dahlias were concerned): Alice Ann was invited to come back to work, where she was promoted to head cashier and given a raise of ten cents an hour.
    In the end, even the bank examiner was satisfied. Miss Rutledge (vindictive or not) made good on her promise to discuss the bank’s loan portfolio with him. After hearing her story and her threat to go to the Banking Commissioner in Montgomery, the examiner met with George E. Pickett Johnson. Their discussion