The nine-mile walk

“But I tell you I talked to no one this morning. And I was alone with you at the Blue Moon.”

“You weren’t with me all the time I paid my check,” he said sharply. “Did you meet anyone while you were waiting on the sidewalk for me to come out of the Blue Moon?”

I shook my head. “I was outside for less than a minute before you joined me. You see, a couple of men came in while you were digging out your change and one of them bumped me, as I thought I’d wait —”

“Did you ever see them before?”

“Who?”

“The two men who came in,” he said, the note of exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Why, no — they weren’t anyone I knew.”

“Were they talking?”

“I guess so. Yes, they were. Quite absorbed in their conversation, as a matter of fact — otherwise they would have noticed me and I would not have been bumped.”

“Not many strangers come into the Blue Moon,” he remarked.

“Do you think it was they?” I asked eagerly. “I think I’d know them again if I saw them.”

Nicky’s eyes narrowed. “It’s possible. There had to be two — one to trail the victim in Washington and ascertain his berth number, the other to wait here and do the job. The Washington man would be likely to come down here afterward. If there were theft as well as murder, it would be to divide the spoils. If it were just murder, he would probably have to come down to pay off his confederate.”

I reached for the telephone. “We’ve been gone less than half an hour,” Nicky went on. “They were just coming in, and service is slow at the Blue Moon. The one who walked all the way to Hadley must certainly be hungry and the other probably drove all night from Washington.”

“Call me immediately if you make an arrest,” I said into the phone and hung up.

Neither of us spoke a word while we waited. We paced the floor, avoiding each other almost as though we had done something we were ashamed of.

The telephone rang at last. I picked it up and listened. Then I said, “Okay,” and turned to Nicky. “One of them tried to escape through the kitchen, but Wi

“That would seem to prove it,” said Nicky With a frosty little smile.

I nodded agreement.

He glanced at his watch. “Gracious,” he exclaimed, “I wanted to make an early start on my work this morning, and here I’ve already wasted all this time talking with you!”

I let him get to the door. “Oh, Nicky,” I called, “what was it you set out to prove?”

“That a chain of inferences could be logical and still not be true,” he said.

“Oh.”

“What are you laughing at?” he asked snappishly, and then he laughed, too.