The two glared at each other for a few seconds. Then Annabel sighed.
“Sorry,” she said. “You are. I’m just on edge at the thought of having to talk to the chief. But I’ll do it if I have to.”
“Be as cooperative as you can,” I suggested. “I don’t know that she’s entirely abandoned the idea that you might have killed Weaver out of revenge.”
I was surprised at how agitated Annabel looked. She’d taken to me so easily that I’d temporarily forgotten about her reclusiveness. Or, perhaps, forgotten that I was wearing a face so familiar that it outweighed her naturally reclusive nature.
She looked so anxious that I relented.
“But I’ll tell the chief how little you saw,” I added. “And you never know. Maybe before she finds the time to interview you she’ll catch the culprit and won’t even need to talk to you.”
Actually, I didn’t think it all that likely, but Miss Annabel brightened so much that I was glad I’d said it.
“That would be so nice,” she said. “And it’s not as if I saw anything. After things calmed down over there in your camp, I went upstairs and read in bed for a while. I guess I fell asleep with the lantern on, and the next thing I knew, your car was honking up a storm in front of the house. That’s all I can tell her.”
“I’ll let the chief know that,” I said. “By the way, did you find Cordelia’s emu records? It would help to know if the eight Grandfather has caught are the whole herd or just a drop in the bucket.”
She chuckled.
“A good start,” she said. “But only a start. I seem to recall there were thirty-four of them last fall. More if any of them succeeded in hatching eggs this winter, but the young wouldn’t be full grown yet, and would tend to stay with their father and siblings until the next mating season. I’ve copied out the relevant records—that’s why I was up so late last night.”
She handed me a list, printed in neat, elegant, almost calligraphic letters that reminded me of Dad’s printing.
“Great,” I said. “Thanks.”
I went out Miss Annabel’s back door and headed back to camp, feeling guilty every step of the way. After this second murder, shouldn’t someone be guarding Miss Annabel? Someone other than the devoted but hardly robust Dr. Ffollett? And yet I knew if I suggested it, she’d probably bite my head off.
Both murders had taken place in the middle of the night. So given that, plus the level of activity around the camp, she was probably safe until dark. That gave me all day to figure out some way to make her safe.
And all day for Chief Heedles to identify and arrest the killer.
Not that I was counting on that.
I sped up my pace and headed for the mess tent, which was usually information central. I spotted Stanley sitting there.
Chapter 25
“Morning,” I said. “Has the chief made any progress?”
“Not that I’ve heard,” he said. “But there’s nothing wrong with her methodology.”
“What do you have on for today?” I asked, taking a seat beside him.
“Not quite sure,” he said. “Most of the lines of inquiry I’ve been following are now very definitely on Chief Heedles’s radar. Not a good idea to get in her way, now that she’s moving on the case again.”
“Is she moving on Cordelia’s murder, or just on Weaver’s?” I asked.
“That’s the big question,” he said. “Don’t know yet, and until I do, I think I should lie low and stay out of her way. So I was planning to get out of town. Find someplace with power and a working photocopy machine, make duplicates of all my paperwork on the case, and then come back and hand everything over to Chief Heedles. In a day or so we should know a lot more. Or at least we can see if she has any viable suspects.”
“I may just have given her one,” I said.
“If you mean Thor, I don’t think I’d call him a viable suspect,” Stanley said, through a mouthful of toast. “He may have been hanging around keeping an eye on Miss Annabel, and he may have mouthed off a couple of times about Weaver. But I don’t see him as a killer.”
“I wasn’t talking about Thor,” I said. “Does Heedles really suspect him?”
“She spent a hell of a lot of time interrogating him this morning,” Stanley said. “And sent him away in a police car. Who were you thinking of?”
“Jim Williams.”
“Just because he used to work for a mining company?” Stanley sounded skeptical.
“Because he used to work for a mining company and was photographed snooping around a place with known mineral deposits a week before the main local opponent to any attempt to exploit those deposits was probably murdered,” I said. “And Thor’s the one who did the photographing, so I’m hoping that’s what Heedles is interrogating him about.”