"I hit her a couple of times, I admitit. I suffered the tortures of the damned afterward. You've got to understand,I used to get mean when I got plastered. That's why Connie sent me away, Idon't blame her. I don't blame her for anything. I blame myself." He drewin a long breath and let it out slowly.

I offered him a cigarette, which herefused. I lit one for myself. The bright trembling patch of sunlight wasclimbing the bulkhead. It would soon be evening.

"So Bradshaw had a wife," McGeesaid. He had had time to absorb the information. "And he told me heintended to marry Connie."

"Maybe he did intend to. It would strengthen thewoman's motive."

"You honestly think she did it?"

"She's a prime suspect. Bradshaw isanother. He must have been a suspect to your daughter, too. She enrolled in hiscollege and took a job in his household to check on him. Was that your idea,McGee?"

He shook his head.

"I don't understand her part in allthis. She hasn't been much help in explaining it, either."

"I know," he said. "Dolly'sdone a lot of lying, starting away back when. But when a little kid lies youdon't put the same construction on it as you would an adult."

"You're a forgiving man."

"Oh no I'm not. I went to her withanger in my heart that Sunday I saw her picture in the paper, with her husband.What right did she have to a happy marriage after what she did to me? That'swhat was on my mind."

"Did you tell her what was on yourmind?"

"Yessir, I did. But my anger didn'tlast. She reminded me so of her mother in appearance. It was like going backtwenty years to happier times, when we were first married. We had a real goodyear when I was in the Navy and Connie was pregnant, with her."

His mind kept veering away from hiscurrent troubles. I could hardly blame him, but I urged him back to them:

"You gave your daughter a hard time the otherSunday, didn't you?"

"I did at first. I admit that. I asked her whyshe lied about me in court. That was a legitimate question, wasn't it?"

"I should say so. What was her reaction?"

"She went into hysterics and said shewasn't lying, that she saw me with the gun and everything and heard me arguingwith her mother. Which was false, and I told her so. I wasn't even in IndianSprings that night. That stopped her cold."

"Then what?"

"I asked her why she lied aboutme." He licked his lips and said in a hushed voice: "I asked her ifshe shot her mother herself, maybe by accident, the way Alice kept that revolverlying around loose. It was a terrible question, but it had to come out. It'dbeen on my mind for a long time."

"As long ago as your trial?"

"Yeah. Before that."

"And that's why you wouldn't let Stevenscross-examine her?"

"Yeah. I should have let him go ahead. I ended upcrossquestioning her myself ten years later."

"What was the result?"

"More hysterics. She was laughing andcrying at the same time. I never felt so sorry for anybody. She was as white asa sheet and the tears popped out of her eyes and ran down her face. Her tearslooked so pure."

"What did she say?"

"She said she didn't do it, naturally."

"Could she have? Did she know how to handle agun?"

"A little. I gave her a littletraining, and so did Alice. It doesn't take much gun-handling to pull atrigger, especially by accident."

"You still think it could have happened thatway?"

"I don't know. It's mainly what I wanted to talkto you about."

These words seemed to release him from anobscure bondage. He climbed down out of the upper bunk and stood facing me inthe narrow aisle. He had on a seaman's black turtleneck, levis, andrubber-soled deck shoes.

"You're in a position to go and talkto her," he said. "I'm not. Mr. Stevens won't. But you can go and askher what really happened."

"She may not know."

"I realize that. She got pretty mixedup the other Sunday. God knows I wasn't trying to mix her up. I only asked hersome questions. But she didn't seem to know the difference between whathappened and what she said in court."

"That story she told in court—did shedefinitely admit she made it up?"

"She made it up with a lot of helpfrom Alice. I can imagine how it went. 'This is the way it happened, isn't it?'Alice would say. 'You saw your old man with the gun, didn't you?' And after awhile the kid had her story laid out for her."

"Would Alice deliberately try toframe you?"

"She wouldn't put it that way toherself. She'd know for a fact I was guilty. All she was doing was making sureI got punished for my crime. She probably fed the kid her lines without knowing

© Alexander Sviyash, 2009