Clues for Dr. Coffee, page 20
“Well, Jack White admits the alibi he gives Quail is phony. He thought he was just doing Quail a favor to keep him out of some minor trouble with the Army. And he turns over the check which is now in the D.A.’s safe.”
“Does the D.A. buy that story, Max?” the pathologist asked.
“He buys the evidence of the canceled check,” Ritter replied, “and Jack White’s promise to testify. But what I want to know, Doc, is how you blackmailed the general out of testifying.”
“I didn’t blackmail him, Max. We made a deal. Look, Max, when two people tell opposite stories, either one is lying or one is mistaken. I was sure both Buford and the general thought they were telling the truth. Where, then, was the margin for error?
“When I saw Buford and Quail, I thought I knew. Here were two fair-haired young officers who, seen from the back and above, must have looked alike to General Spence except for their shoulder bars. Suppose the general was suffering from diplopia—that’s double vision, Max. He would have seen First Lieutenant Quail’s single silver shoulder insigne as a captain’s double bar. And his only towheaded captain was Buford. All right. Assuming this to be true, what could have caused the general’s double vision? I decided to see the general.
“When he climbed the stairs at Raoul’s, I was pretty sure I had the answer. First of all, he had a little trouble with the stairs. He was short of breath and his legs didn’t seem too serviceable. And he kicked out his toes when he walked. When he sat down, he breathed noisily for a moment, and I could detect the fruity odor of acetone on his breath. He was terribly thirsty, and he was in a hurry to leave us—to go to the little-boys’ room.
“All these symptoms add up to a typical picture, Max. The loss of power in his legs, the disappearance of the knee reflex, his air hunger—dyspnea—and the fruity breath—ketosis—spell diabetes. And another symptom of diabetes is frequently double vision. That would explain the general’s honest error in identifying a lieutenant—whose face he hadn’t seen—as a captain. To make sure, though, I had to test his blood sugar.”
“How could you be so sure he’d come to your lab?” Ritter asked.
“The general knew something was wrong with him, Max. He couldn’t help feeling it. I scared him when I said it was a matter of life and death for him as well as for Buford. He certainly wasn’t going to commit suicide, particularly when the alternative was my telling a grand jury there was something wrong with him physically. You see, the reason the general didn’t go to an Army hospital for a checkup was that he was afraid they’d give him a medical discharge from the service. He wanted badly to hang on until retirement age on the chance that he could pick up that extra star and retire with the rank and pay of a major general.
“I told the general he was risking his life by not going on insulin immediately—if further tests confirmed my blood-sugar estimation. He really should go through the fasting, test meal, and glucose tolerance routine. It’s none of my business if he wants to go to a civilian physician instead of checking in at Walter Reed or another Army hospital. I merely told him that if he insisted on telling the grand jury he had seen Captain Buford running away from the murder room, I should be forced to rebut his testimony on medical grounds. I was counting on you of course, Max, to come up with the real culprit. You wouldn’t call that blackmail, would you, Max?”
“I’d call that serving the ends of justice,” the detective said.
“Good. Then pour me some more of that Corton, Max,” Dr. Coffee said, “and let’s drink to the ends of justice.”
About the Author
Lawrence G. Blochman (1900–1975) was an Edgar Award–winning author of mystery novels, a prominent translator of international crime fiction, and served as the fourth president of the Mystery Writers of America. He died in New York City.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
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Copyright © 1963 by Lawrence G. Blochman
Cover design by Ian Koviak
ISBN: 978-1-5040-8573-1
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Lawrence G. Blochman, Clues for Dr. Coffee
