So there
you are."
"Uh-huh. Dave Ritter said this was going to turn into another Hall-Mills
case; well, now you have your Pig Woman," Rand said. "Miss Lawrence
shouldn't have lied to you, Mick. I suppose she got worried when you
started asking questions, and there's nothing like a good murder in the
neighborhood to make liars out of people."
"And damn well I know that!" McKenna agreed. "But that isn't all. It
seems our cruise-car crew spotted Jarrett's car standing in Rivers's
drive, about eleven. Just when he was away from the antique-shop, and
about when the M.E. figures Rivers was getting the business."
"Did they get the number?" Rand asked. "Or how did they identify the
car?"
"Oh, they knew it; see, our boys shoot a lot with the Scott County Rifle
& Pistol Club, and they've all seen Jarrett's car at the range, different
times," McKenna said. "A gray 1947 Plymouth coupe. Like I say, they knew
the car, and they knew Jarrett collects guns, and the lights were on
inside the shop and the shades were drawn, so they didn't think anything
of it, at the time. See, they went to bed about ten this morning, and
didn't get up till after five, so I didn't find out about it till after
supper."
Rand shrugged, and managed to get some of the shrug into his voice.
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