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She was plain, gray-haired, and a little plump. But there were vestiges of what probably had been above-average youthful beauty.
She looks, Matt thought, like somebody who sings in a church choir.
Chase stepped to his door and opened it, and leaned over his secretary’s desk to say something very quietly to her.
“I don’t like this part of the job very much,” Lieutenant Deitrich said softly.
Chase’s secretary got up from her desk and walked across the lobby after Mrs. Worner. A moment later, they both came out of the safe-deposit-vault entrance and started across the lobby.
Chase stood in the door between his desk and his outer office and waited for them.
“Good morning, Adelaide,” he said.
“Good morning, Mr. Chase.”
“Would you step into my office, please? These gentlemen want to have a word with you.”
“Mr. Chase,” Mrs. Worner said. “I can’t tell you how sorry, how ashamed, I am to have involved the bank in this.”
Chase put his arm around her shoulders.
“Come in, and sit down, and we’ll see if we can’t try to straighten things out,” he said.
He looked at Matt with what Matt recognized was more than distaste. It was closer to hate.
“Do you remember me, Adelaide?” Deitrich asked.
“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Worner said. “Before we had to send Al to the hospital, we used to see you down at the VFW.”
“That’s right,” Deitrich said. “Adelaide, this is Detective Payne of the Philadelphia Police Department.”
Mrs. Worner looked at Matt with terror in her eyes.
“Good morning, Mrs. Worner,” Matt said.
“Good morning,” she said.
“I’d like you to tell me about the safe-deposit box you’ve been letting Timmy Calhoun use. Are you willing to talk to me about that?”
“I really don’t have much choice, do I?” Mrs. Worner said.
“Are we all ready for this?” Matt asked, and looked around the safe-deposit vault. There were nods.
“Okay,” Matt said. “Here we go. I am Detective Matthew M. Payne, Badge 701, of the Philadelphia Police Department.”
“A little slower, please, if you can, Detective,” the stenographer said.
“I’ll try,” Matt said.
“This is an interview of Mrs. Adelaide Worner being conducted in the First Harrisburg Bank and Trust Building, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. In addition to myself and Mrs. Worner, present are Lieutenant Paul Deitrich of the Harrisburg Police Department and Mr. James C. Chase, Vice President of the First Harrisburg Bank and Trust. The interview is being recorded and transcribed by Mrs. . . . I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”
“Grace Placker, Mrs. Grace Placker,” the stenographer furnished.
“Mrs. Grace Placker, of the Harrisburg Police Department,” Matt went on. He looked at Adelaide Worner.
“Mrs. Worner, you have already been advised of your rights under the Miranda decision. . . .”
“Yes, I have.”
