Chapter 29

	He is not alert enough. He wants stirring up with a pole. He should practise turning a series of somersets rapidly, or jump up and see how many times he can strike his feet together before coming down. Let him make the earth turn round now the other way, and whet his wits on it, whichever way it goes, as on a grindstone; in short, see how many ideas he can entertain at once.
	HENRY THOREAU

The District Attorney of Middlesex County was a devout man, passionately fond of his family, the Red Sox, freshly shelled peanuts and cold beer. Raised entirely in the city of Somerville, he had left it only once as a child for a single disastrous visit to the country where he had unexpectedly come face to face with a cow. Ever since that time he had been deathly afraid of cows; and even barns, hay, large dogs and the grass on Boston Common made him uneasy. He had been chosen to run for office for reasons other than his qualifications for the job, but on the whole he was an effective and conscientious public servant. His strong points were two. First of all, he was just intelligent enough to recognize his own deepseated befuddlement, and he made up for it by an elaborate system of self-prompting notes, charts and outlines written in his own painstaking rounded hand. Second, he was backed up by Miss Felicia O’Toole. Miss O’Toole was his secretary, a self-effacing homely woman with an I.Q. fifty points higher than the D.A.’s. She was incomparable.

Miss O’Toole had spread clean sheets of paper all over his big desk, and laid out four well-sharpened pencils and a big bowl of peanuts. The District Attorney pulled a sheet of paper toward him, and wrote carefully at the top, “Charles Goss.” On another he wrote, “Philip Goss.” Then he sucked his pencil and looked up at the vaulted ceiling. What other headings would he think of if he were smarter? Oh, well, they would come out in the discussion. Miss O’Toole sat a little to the rear, almost invisible in her grey dress, his shield and buckler and Excalibur invincible.

Homer Kelly reviewed the case swiftly. The D.A. scribbled things on his papers. Chief Flower was there, with Sergeants Shrubsole and Silverson and Patrolman Vine. Mary Morgan sat in one corner, listening and taking notes.

After two hours the men had all taken off their coats, a big fan was sucking in the tobacco smoke, and there were peanut shells and ashes all over the rug. Miss O’Toole went out for sandwiches. She had to march through a crowd of newsmen sprawled all over the wooden benches beyond the locked metal gate. “Plenty of time for you all to have lunch,” she said kindly. “We’ll be ages yet.” When she got back the D.A. was mopping his thin sad face and ruffling the three long hairs he combed sideways over his bald head. His papers were covered with round scrawls. They were sifting over each other and getting lost. He doubted if he wasn’t just getting more and more mixed up. Here is what he had.

CHARLES GOSS

Motive: strong. Revenge? Father a bast. Night before, was shot at by brother with musk. at command of Dad. Logical Ch use same gun bump off Dad.

Opportunity: last seen after parade-ride returning home horseback Barrett’s Mill Rd. 11:15. Next seen by Flower coming from barn where suit found 1:45. No satisfact. explan. whereabouts meantime. (Murder 1:00).

Fax supporting Ch as X:

1.  Confessed. Loopholes in confesh don’t rule it out. Maybe diabol. clever ruse.

2.  X wore Ch’s outfit.

3.  X’s horse prob. Ch’s horse.

4.  Scout idents X as Ch or Ph.

5.  Had motive.

6.  Had opportunity.

7.  Ch had access old gun, knew how fire it.

8.  Scout sez X limped; Ch had hurt leg.

9.  What he doing in barn, unless taking off suit?

10.  Ch family black sheep, unstable.

Fax NOT supporting Ch as X:

1.  Loopholes in confesh. Maybe Ch continues boy hood custom, sez “I did it” when either brother accused. Ch assumes Ph did it, so protects him by confesh. Shocked when Ph doesn’t confess, too, then clams up, assumes Ph trying pin murder on him. Big blow. (GOOD.) But maybe diabol. clever ruse (see above).

2.  If Ch intended murder Dad, why do it in public place wearing own fancy suit? Unless crime of sudden passion. In which case, why? Why have loaded musk with him? What reason for rondayvoo?

3.  Not likely Ch would fall off horse, since expert horseman. But maybe unsteady becuz nervous?

4.  Limp of X might be caused by fall off horse.

5.  Boy Scout’s identif. don’t mean much, he only saw back of X.

PHILIP GOSS

Motive: weak. Suppose motive was revenge for Dad’s making him fire at Ch night before—this mean Ph fond of Ch. Why, then, would Ph wear Ch’s Paul Revere suit to murder Dad, thus pinning murder on Ch?

Opportunity: Ph was with Conc. Ind. Battery on arrival Rod and Gun Club noon. Shortly after (he say), he left, walked around fresh air, went to bam, came back. No witnesses. So no alibi. Gone full hour. Time enough.

Fax supporting Ph as X:

1.  Alibi fishy.

2.  Scout idents X as either Ch or Ph. But see above.

3.  Gun handy, could fire it.

4.  Logical he use same gun on Dad that Dad made him use on Ch. (But see under motive, above.)

5.  VERY IMPORTANT: Ph nearly killed Dad with can non same morning. Mistake, he say.

6.  Ph’s car found in parking lot at bridge after murder.

Fax NOT supporting Ph as X:

1.  Motive looks weak.

2.  Character good.

3.  Why commit murder in public place? See above.

4.  If Ph murdered Dad on horseback, didn’t bring car. Car probly used by E. Goss to get to bridge from gun club.

QUERIES

1.  Why E. Goss go to bridge?

2.  Where gun?

3.  Where hat?

4.  Who E. Goss fight with before dinner? (Reported by Miss Morgan.)

5.  DON’T FORGET BAWL OUT KELLY, HIRING GIRLS WITH OUT PERMISH.

The District Attorney threw his head back and dropped peanuts down his throat. “Now for the Alco’ Club, An’ wha’ abou’ unknown persons, ou’siders?” he said.

Chief Flower made a sarcastic noise. “You mean beyond a couple thousand visitors to Concord to see the parade? They trampled up the place like a herd of. elephants. But who were they all? Damned if I know. There isn’t a prayer of tracking them all down. Say, there was one kind of interesting thing though. Loftus said he noticed a parked car in the parking lot there by the bridge the night before. Let’s see, Bernie, that was a green Chrysler sedan, last year’s, with a Massachusetts license, right? Bob saw it around midnight, and thought it was just a couple of neckers. Did that registration come in?”

Sergeant Shrubsole looked uncomfortable. “Well, yes,” he said, “it did.”

Homer Kelly, his face red, gave a snort. “Never mind, Sergeant, I’ll confess. That was my car. It was me.”

The District Attorney stared at Homer, his mouth open. Then he guffawed and made a lecherous remark. Mary Morgan, who had been doodling a face in the corner of her notebook, added a pair of horns and a set of villainous teeth.