9308-3953

Would never tell him what they knew. Assuming they did know anything, that is, which I doubt. So he
threw his lot in with us boys on the military side, who had at least tried to mount a proper
investigation.” Morass turned to Davy, who was drinking neither tea nor beer, but merely sitting with
his hands folded in front of him, like a well-behaved child in church.
“I should like to learn this fingerprinting technique you boast of so freely,” he said, in a
tone that was more of an order than a request. “None of the lads in my division have even seen a kit.”
“I can show you the basic technique,” Davy said. “How to lift a print when there is only
one to be lifted and it’s nice and squarely placed. But I must warn you that the reality of a crime
scene is often more complex. Multiple people might touch the item in question or they might grasp it
or touch it indirectly so that you only have a partial print.”
“So you think a plain copper from the field canna do it? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I am a plain copper from the field,” Davy said, “and I believe Detective Welles will
tell you I am the best on our team with the kit. I’m just saying it takes practice.”
“You said that Benson’s goal was to get Weaver out of jail and your goal was to get
credit for the arrest,” Trevor said, shifting the subject back to the matter at hand. “And yet it seems
the majority of your shared efforts were directed only toward the first objective, the exoneration of
Weaver. Hardly seems fair.”
Morass shrugged his meaty shoulders. “We were but two days into the investigation
when Benson was killed. Perhaps the man would have come around and helped me as I helped him.
Hard to say.”
“You seem admirably sanguine about the inequities in the partnership,” Trevor said.
“Did Benson offer you money? Payment for your information?”
“What if he did? The facts are still the facts.” Morass leaned back as the woman set the
second mug of beer in front of him. “Twasn’t like it was a bribe or anything, so you need not look
down your nose at the working man, Detective. Benson said it was only proper that he split his fee
with me since we were splitting the work, and I figured that was as right a way to look at it as any.”
Morass raised the mug and drank long and deep, then put it down with a clatter.
“And it isn’t as if anyone was trying to pin it on an innocent man,” he went on
defensively, as if either Trevor or Davy had accused him of something. “Or let a bad one go free. I
never for one moment thought that Anthony Weaver killed his wife and his manservant. Do you?”
“No,” Trevor admitted. “I don’t like the fellow, but even so… My guess is that the
wrong man sits in jail.”
“So there you go.”
“And you are telling us everything?”
Morass smiled and picked up the mug. “Of course.”
Bollacks, thought Trevor. You play the fool with me just as you doubtlessly did with
Seal, holding back twice as much as you give. But it is enough for now.
***
The Weaver House
10:20 AM
Emma and Geraldine stood on the broad porch of the Weaver house and watched Felix
approach with the cook and the maid. The cook and the maid, Emma thought. That is all anyone
has ever called them, including me. I wonder if they even have names.
But as the three servants climbed the steep concrete stairs, she smiled in what she hoped