Everything went like clockwork. I bought a little gift for Maudie and presented it to her early in the evening. The dinner was very gay and, just as we were about to leave, I announced that I had another gift. Maudie was delighted with the chain. I didn't even have to fasten it around her neck as I had planned. She snapped the clasp herself and went to the mirror in the foyer, preening and admiring herself and the necklace that winked and glittered in the light. I was the last one out of the door and Maudie clung to me for a minute, drawing my head down to kiss me. Maybe she'd softened up enough to lend me a few thousand, I thought, but even if she had, it was too late. I couldn't very well snatch the necklace back even if it were possible to release it from about her throat. I don't remember much about the play. I was thinking of Maudie all the time and I was torn between all sorts of doubts and fears. One minute I'd be way down in the dumps and the next I'd be floating up in the clouds planning all the good times Isabelle and I could have with Maudie's millions. In my mind I'd see a picture of Maudie lying dead and then I'd decide that Rosy had conned me and Maudie would be as spry as ever when we got home. Sometimes I'd want it one way and sometimes the other. I was really mixed up and on edge. The play seemed to last for about ten light years but actually it wasn't quite midnight when we caught a taxi outside the theatre. As soon as we rounded the corner and were in sight of the marquee of the apartment house, I knew something had gone wrong. Two red and white police cars blocked off the entrance of the house and a curious throng of people had gathered around. I'd expected to have a chance to retrieve the necklace before the police were called. In the confusion of discovering her body no one would notice or, even if some one did, it wouldn't appear particularly odd for me to unfasten the necklace and slip it in my pocket. After all, it would have been my last gift to her. With the police already on the scene that part of the plan was out. Nothing was left except to play it by ear. We pushed our way through the curious idlers and the neighbors who'd come out into the halls. A cop was at the front door but as soon as we'd identified ourselves he ushered us into Maudie's big front room. Only two cops were there. I didn't get the smaller one's name but the towering man in plain clothes introduced himself as Lieutenant Onsett, of Central Homicide. Just the mention of homicide was enough to give me the jitters bad but fortunately Isabelle stole the scene with a fit of hysterics that nearly blew the roof of the place. She distracted everyone with her screaming jag long enough for me to slip into the bedroom for a look at Maudie. She lay straight on the bed, her arms flung out, her face contorted and blue but not a mark on her throat.