Archer glanced at the doorknob as his mind processed all of this at a rapid pace. The only problem was, he could see no way around it other than the truth. But sometimes not only did the truth not set you free, it could send you right back to prison.
“Okay, I’ll level with you. When I passed by here this morning the door was open a crack. I thought Jackie—I mean Miss Tuttle—was maybe in the room. So, I walked in, that’s when I touched the doorknob.”
“Meaning you lied to me before?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Keep going, Archer, this is mighty fine stuff.”
“I saw the man sleeping in the bed. Well, I thought he was sleeping. Then I saw a towel on the floor. With stuff on it. I came closer to see what it was. Then I saw the knife next to the towel; they were both covered in blood. I went over to the bed to see about Mr. Pittleman. But it was too late. He was dead, his throat all butchered.”
“Then what did you do?”
Archer decided not to tell him about his debate on relieving some of the dead man’s cash because he could not see a way that would remotely benefit his case, which was now for shit anyway. Though he had taken the debt papers.
“Then I left. I opened the door and walked out.”
“Leaving your fingerprints behind?”
“Yes sir.”
“Did you remove anything from this room or the body?”
Archer didn’t hesitate, because he knew to a man like Shaw that would be the same as lying.
“No sir.”
“You see anybody? Hear anybody?”
“No. It was just me.” Archer paused. “Now, I know this doesn’t look good.”
Shaw unexpectedly chuckled. “Well, you’re right about that, son, but it don’t take a genius, does it?”
“What happens now?”
“I have more than enough to arrest you, you know that?”
“Look, what would be my reason to kill the man? I was working for him. Him dead, I don’t get squat.”
Shaw chewed on the butt of his stogie. “Miss Tuttle made the same argument to me earlier.”
“Well, she’s one smart gal. So?”
“A job and money’s not the only reason to kill a man.”
“I don’t see another, least in my case.”
“Sure you do, Archer, think about it.”
“Give me a clue.”
“How about a woman? Miss Tuttle? You wanted her and Pittleman had her. For all I know you went to his room, you both argued about the lady, and you did what you did.”
“You think I’d kill a man over a woman?”
Now Shaw laughed outright. “Hell, Archer, if I had a dollar for every man who’s killed another man over a woman, I’d be a damn Rockefeller.”
“Did you check the knife for my prints? ’Cause I can tell you for a fact they aren’t on it.”
“There were no prints on there because the killer wiped them off, probably on the towel. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left it behind. He just was careless about the doorknob.” On this Shaw looked pointedly at Archer. “Meaning maybe you were.”
“But why not take the knife with him?”
“Then you got a weapon that killed a man to hide or dispose of. Not an easy thing to do.”
“You think I brought a knife with me from prison!”
“You took a long bus ride here. For all I know you bought or stole a knife from someone on that bus. Or you coulda done the same while you were here. Miss Tuttle told me Pittleman gave you an advance. Forty dollars cash. How much of that you got left?”
Archer took a quick breath but didn’t answer right away. So now Shaw knew about the money Archer owed to Pittleman. Which meant Archer now had a motive to kill the man.
“Well, I bought some stuff, clothes, and food and such.”
“Right, but you didn’t do your job, Archer. You didn’t get the car. So that means you owed Pittleman money. And I been asking around about the man. He is not somebody you want to owe money to. Did you get into an argument with him about that?”
“No, I was going to talk to him about it but never got the chance.”
“So you say. And the fact is, you didn’t have to bring a knife with you. Jackie Tuttle and two other witnesses have already identified the murder weapon as belonging to Mr. Pittleman himself.”
“I know that. He took it out in the—”
“—in the bar where you met him? Miss Tuttle told me about that, too. That’s another lie you told me. You’re ringing