For the Love of Murder by Scherf Margaret

Author:Scherf, Margaret [Scherf, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Montana
Publisher: American Mercury
Published: 1949-11-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Judge Travis was not in his chambers in the courthouse. Martin resisted an impulse to call on the sheriff while he was in the building—Clyde would get in touch with him if he wanted to talk. Instead he walked down Main Street to the First National Bank Building, where Travis retained his private law office. People said it was less embarrassing for him to make a deal there than in the judge’s chambers.

The judge was squinting at a letter gripped in his pudgy right hand. He looked up sharply, took in Martin, scowled. “Yes, sir?”

“Good afternoon, Judge.” Martin sat down without being asked, stretched his large feet toward the desk, and took out a cigar. These evidences of an intention to stay did not please Travis.

“You have something to take up with me, sir?”

“Just dropped in for a chat.” Martin smiled, taking out the photograph of Spackler. “You knew him, didn’t you, Judge?”

“Spackler?” The hostility in the chubby little face seemed to ebb. He put down the letter, took off his spectacles. “Yes, 1 knew him.”

“What sort of man was he?”

“Very fine, very fine indeed. This town owes a great deal to Spackler. He built this very building, you know. A man of substance, stability. Well educated, read everything. His library was the best anyone has ever had here.”

“That so? What happened to it?”

The judge said some of the books had been purchased at the auction after his death, the others had gone to the public library. “He even had a telescope, Mr. Buell. Studied the stars.”

“Where did he live?”

“In this very building. He built himself a penthouse before anyone had ever heard of penthouses. It’s still up there.”

“I don’t imagine any of his possessions are still there?”

Travis shook his head, smiling. “Everything was disposed of.”

“He had no wife?”

“Never married. A bit afraid of women, and I never blamed him for that.” The judge looked as if he were remembering some unpleasant intervals in his own life.

“Who settled the estate?”

The little gray eyebrows rose in two sharp arcs. “Lester Weavel. What do you make of that business, Mr. Buell? Shocking, I thought. Really shocking. I haven’t heard who found his body, but I understood it was close to your house.”

Martin said he believed Hattie Kettlehorn had been the unfortunate discoverer. “I’m afraid it’s going to prove a difficult case, Judge,” he added. “Mr. Weavel seemed to have so many enemies,”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Travis showed his gold filling in a benignant smile. “Lester had many fine qualities.”

“Ts that right? Was his law practice extensive?”

“Oh yes. He had a good practice. In addition to his loan business.”

The judge’s smile was so brassy, so firm, that Martin felt sure there was a quite different feeling behind the words. He tested it. “From what Lester said, I gathered he disliked you very much, Judge Travis.”

There was a flash of anger in the eyes, a twitching at the mouth, immediately conquered by a smile. “We had our little disagreements—- who doesn’t. But Lester and I were always the best of friends.

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