Читать книгу Orchids to Murder - Footner Hulbert - Страница 4

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RETURNING indoors, Lee and the Major ascended to what had been the parlor floor of the original house. It had now, saving the stair well, been thrown into one long living room with windows looking on the street at one end and looking out on the garden at the other. Among the sameness of most New York rooms, it had an original and attractive aspect, and that was why Mary had taken the house.

The housemaid was cleaning the room. On top of a basket of trash lay a white cardboard box about ten inches long, and Lee picked it up. It bore the business card of Schracht, a florist on Lexington Avenue. Also in the basket lay a sheet of oiled paper and the outer wrapping of the box.

"When did this come?" asked Lee.

"Don't know," grumbled the Major.

"Must have been sometime yesterday, sir," said the maid. "I tidied the room yesterday morning."

Lee examined the wrapping paper. "No address on it," he said. "The giver must have brought the flowers. We may suppose that it was a man. Did Miss Mary have any gentlemen visitors yesterday?"

"No, sir. Not up until the time I went home at eight o'clock." She curtsied and edged out of the room.

"There was one came after eight, as I told you," put in the Major.

"Surely," said Lee. "Then he must have brought the flowers. And since no flowers were found, she must have worn them when she went out."

Lee kept the box. "I may need it later," he said. Nothing else of special interest was found in the living room, and they proceeded to Mary's own suite on the floor above. It consisted of two large rooms with bathroom and wardrobes between; in front lay Mary's sitting room with a south exposure, in the rear her bedroom. Both rooms were gay with chintz upholstery and hangings. In the boudoir, Mary's desk was open and it had the look of having recently been cleaned out. A little heap of charred paper lay in the fireplace.

"Looks as if she was clearing out for good!" said the Major with excessive bitterness. "Leaving me with this house on my hands! I have no money to keep it going!"

"Nonsense!" said Lee sharply. "It would be totally unlike Mary to leave anybody in the lurch like that. Some explanation will be forthcoming before long."

Meanwhile Lee knelt before the fireplace. On the edge of the charred papers lay two scraps only partly burned through. One bore the name of a place, Elkton, Maryland; the other showed part of a person's name in the same writing; it looked like McCallum. Lee examined the quality of the paper closely and held each piece to the light. They were clearly parts of the same sheet. He showed them to the Major.

The old man shook his head sullenly. "Means nothing to me," he said.

Lee transferred the scraps to an envelope from Mary's desk and thence to his pocket. "They may provide clues," he said, "if we find that we are going to need clues."

All the other papers in the fireplace had been completely destroyed.

In the middle of Mary's bedroom lay a suitcase large enough to hold dresses, and a matching case, both very smart and expensive. It was evident from the weight that they had been packed. Yet the wardrobes were still full of other clothes.

"You see, she has not gone for good," said Lee.

"We'd better see what's inside those cases," said the Major.

Lee shook his head. "I don't like to search among her things until I feel that it is necessary. In an hour we may be laughing at our fears."

Nevertheless, the Major proceeded to try the locks. "They're locked," he said. "We'll have to break them open."

"Let them alone for the present," said Lee.

They heard a ring at the front door and eagerly looked up.

"Now we'll learn something," said Lee.

Somebody came up the stairs. Lee looked out through the door and his anxious face lightened at the sight of Lottie Vickers, Mary's maid at the theater; middle-aged, portly, comely and good-natured. She carried a satchel containing her night things.

"Come in here, Lottie," said Lee. "We're anxious about Miss Mary. She went away last night without leaving any word. Do you know where she's gone?"

Lottie betrayed no alarm, but her reply was guarded. "She told me she was going to the country for a rest, Mr. Mappin. I am to sleep in her room until we hear from her further."

"But where did she go?"

Lottie hesitated before answering. "She didn't tell me, sir," she said, glancing at the old man.

Lee observed the glance. "Major," he said cajolingly, "will you excuse me for a few moments? I want to have a little talk with Lottie."

The old man flared up irascibly. "What have you got to say to her servant that I shouldn't hear?" he demanded. "Am I nobody in my own house? Sent out of the room like a child!"

Lee took his arm and eased him toward the door. "You get me wrong, Major," he murmured soothingly. "I don't want to keep anything from you. It was only because I thought I could persuade this woman to talk more freely if you were out of the way. She's probably scared to death of you."

The Major refused to be mollified. "Secrets! Secrets! Secrets!" he grumbled. "I'm fed up with secrets!" However, he allowed Lee to lead him out of the door and to close it after him.

After waiting a moment, Lee opened the door again. The Major was still lingering outside. Lee said nothing. The Major started stumping downstairs, puffing out his cheeks and looking very angry in an effort to save his face.

Lee returned to Lottie. "Miss Mary told her grandfather that she was going up to Greencliffe Manor last night," he said.

"That's what she told me," said Lottie. "I didn't like to let on. She generally has to keep things from him because he carries on so hateful."

"Quite," said Lee. "But Miss Mary didn't go to Greencliffe Manor. She made no reservations there. She isn't there now."

They looked at each other with a growing anxiety. The woman's hand stole to her breast.

"There is no reason that I can see why she should lie to you," said Lee.

"No, sir ... Oh, my poor young lady!"

Lee began pacing the room. "Good Lord, don't carry on!" he said irritably. "There may be nothing in it. But I can't just sit still and do nothing. You must help me, Lottie. You were in her confidence."

"Only just so far, Mr. Mappin. She's the kindest and friendliest mistress I ever had and I love her like my daughter. But she never talked about her personal affairs. I didn't expect it of her. I only served her in the theater, you know. She said she didn't need a maid at home."

"You were here yesterday, helping her pack?"

"Yes, sir."

"And she gave you no clue then as to what was passing in her mind?"

"Well, sir, it did come to me that she was plotting something."

"Plotting!" said Lee, coming to a stand.

"Oh, in a perfectly nice way, sir. As if something very nice was before her. I could tell it from the lift in her voice and from her eyes."

"Her eyes?"

"They looked starry, Mr. Mappin. That means only one thing."

"Who is the man?"

She hesitated. "You won't tell him?" she said, pointing downstairs. "He hates him."

"I shall not tell him."

Lottie hung her head. "I'm afraid," she stammered; "I'm afraid it's Mr. Jack Fentress."

"Oh God!" groaned Lee. "He's not fit to tie her shoe!"

"That's what I say, sir."

Lee paced the room savagely. "My beautiful, clever Mary! There seems to be a sort of electrical quality in that young man that no woman can resist. It's only physical. I never thought Mary would fall for it."

"She's a woman, too, sir," said Lottie softly.

"Are you sure you're right about Fentress, Lottie?"

"Pretty sure, sir. She's been going with him since before I started to work for her. He never came around the theater much, but she saw him outside. She had his photograph in the drawer of her dressing table at the theater, and looked at it often."

"I never suspected such a thing!" groaned Lee.

"If you'll excuse me, sir, Miss Mary was a deep one, meaning it in a perfectly nice way. She never talked about her personal affairs. I've heard her say with a laugh that it was the only way she could avoid lying. She never lied. But she could keep her mouth shut."

"You're right. And you think Fentress has something to do with her peculiar actions yesterday?"

"Pretty sure of it, sir."

"When did she see him last?"

"At the theater after the show on Saturday night. Miss Mary gave a little party and asked Mr. Fentress and Mrs. Gannon and Ewart Blanding..."

"Blanding!" said Lee, staring. "You mean her chauffeur?"

"Her former chauffeur. There's a fine fellow, sir. Much above his station. He's a law student and supports himself by driving a car. Handsome, too. You've seen him, sir."

Lee shook his head. "No. I have been to Mary's house and to her dressing room at the theater, but, so far as I know, I never laid eyes on her chauffeur."

"Well, she made a friend of him while he was working for her," Lottie went on. "The poor young fellow was absolutely gone on her. The real thing. You hear a lot of talk about love, but the real thing is not so common. Blanding was absolutely a goner. He couldn't hide it. I believe that's the reason she sold her car and let him go. She said that the car was too great an extravagance for her to keep in town. So she let him go and work for Miss Amy Dordress, the one the newspapers call the poor little rich girl."

"But she continued to see Blanding?"

"Oh yes, sir. She wouldn't cut him off all at once. She was too kindhearted. She wanted to ease him out of it."

"And she asked him to supper Saturday night?"

"Yes, sir. He came to the theater. He and Mr. Fentress didn't like each other. Started making nasty remarks right off the bat. They went to La Perouse restaurant. Yesterday I asked Miss Mary if they had a good time and she shook her head. Said she was a fool to ask Fentress and Blanding on the same night. So I suppose they quarreled.... There was another gentleman asked to the supper party," Lottie went on, "but he refused to come. Miss Mary was sorry. That was Mr. George Restorick."

"The real estate millionaire," said Lee.

"Yes, sir. He's been in love with Miss Mary, too, for a long time past, but he's an older man; he had his feelings under better control—though he looks as if he might be a terror, once he got going. Miss Mary depended on him a lot because he had more sense than any of the young men. They were real good friends. Startled me sometimes, they were so outspoken with each other..."

"That was Mary's way," murmured Lee.

"Once Mrs. Gannon asked Miss Mary in my hearing why the hell she didn't take George Restorick and have done with it. Excuse me, sir, but that's the way Mrs. Gannon put it. And Miss Mary said George was a grand man and any girl would be lucky if she got him. But he was too rich for her, she said; such a life would suffocate her. I heard Miss Mary tell Mrs. Gannon that George Restorick had said he'd be damned if he'd come to her party. They both laughed."

Lee found Jack Fentress' number in the telephone book and asked for it at the phone. Lottie started signaling to him, and he put a hand over the transmitter.

"Be careful what you say, sir," said Lottie. "The old man can cut in on the line from the ground floor."

"I have that in mind," said Lee.

At the switchboard of an apartment house, a boy rang Fentress' apartment, and presently reported that there was no answer. Lee hung up. With Nina Gannon he had better luck. She answered promptly.

"This is Amos Lee Mappin," he said, "Mary Stannard's friend. Perhaps you know who I am."

"Everybody knows Mr. Mappin," answered Nina's gratified voice.

"Can I come around and see you for a few moments? I am a little anxious about Mary."

"Oh, do come, Mr. Mappin! I am anxious, too!"