The Filipino broke the silence. “What do you want from me?” he quavered.

“Some information.”

“About what? I know nothing.”

“Why did you say McKay killed that girl?” Lowry demanded harshly.

“I see him.”

“Like hell you did,” Lowry blazed. “How could you see him in the dark?”

Ramirez’ eyes shifted uneasily. He looked very terrified. “It was not dark. It was almost light. I see him then.”

Lowry got up and waved the Filipino to his feet.

“Come on. Show me where you saw him.”

“What you mean?”

Lowry scowled. “Put a coat on and come on outside and show me where you saw him.”

Trembling, afraid to speak, the terror-stricken Ramirez drew a heavy, dirty sweater around his shoulders and opened the door.

“This way,” he grunted.

Lowry followed him at least fifty feet from the cabin to a patch of high woods.

“Here,” Ramirez said.

Lowry looked back to the house and said, “And from that distance you saw the man so that you could identify him?”

“Yes.”

Lowry muttered a curse and started back to the house. Ramirez followed him with short, quick steps. Lowry sat down again.

He stared at the Filipino. “You were afraid, weren’t you, Ramirez?” he said. “You can tell me. I’m not a policeman. You were afraid they would accuse you of the murder, weren’t you?”

Ramirez shook his head violently. “No, I did not do it.”

Speaking with care, Lowry said, “I didn’t say you did it. I said you were afraid that they would accuse you, so you said it was McKay.”

The little man looked up sullenly. “He look like the man I see,” he said weakly.

“He looked like him. Sure. But a lot of men could have looked like him. You didn’t see him clearly, Ramirez. You could even have said I looked like him, if you had seen me in the lineup, couldn’t you?”

“No, you are too big.”

Seeing he was getting no place fast, Lowry steered a different course.

“Look, Ramirez, do you know what you have done? Unless a miracle happens, an innocent man is going to die before very long because you were afraid they would accuse you of something that they could never ever prove you did.”

The Filipino began to look genuinely alarmed. “What you mean?”

“They frightened you down at the police station. They could never have proved you were guilty. There was no evidence, no motive. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

18

18

The door opened suddenly and Brady stood framed in the dim light in the doorway. He looked from Lowry to Ramirez and his jaw jutted out considerably farther than usual.

“You don’t understand what he’s talking about, Ramirez, because he’s lying to you,” he said. He turned angrily toward Lowry. “You’re getting around a lot tonight, aren’t you, Mr. Lonelyhearts?”