course I mind but since everyone else will be writing about it in those
awful
tabloids it’ll be to my advantage to have you here in the house, a gentleman.” Her realism always surprised me.
“I was afraid you might be upset.”
“Not at all, but I’d like to see what you write from time to time. I may be able to help you.”
“That’d be awfully nice of you.”
“Not at all.”
“
Was
your niece murdered?” I asked suddenly, trying to catch her off guard.
“You’ll get no help from me there.” And that was the end of that interview: I left her for the beach and the sun.
I found only Allie Claypoole on the beach.
She was lying on her back in a two-piece red bathing suit which was exciting to contemplate: I found her most attractive and if it hadn’t been for my fling with Liz the night before and the peculiar discovery that despite a lifetime devoted to philandering, I was unexpectedly held to the idea of Liz and didn’t want anybody else, not even the slender Allie who looked up at me with a smile and said, “Recovered?”
I sat down beside her on the sand. The sun was soothing. The sea sparkled. Just twenty-four hours ago it had happened. “I feel much better. Where’s everybody?”
“Miss Lung has gone inside to write this week’s ‘Book-Chat’ while my brother’s in town. Brexton’s in his room still. What on earth is going on?”
I gestured helplessly. “I haven’t any idea. I never saw any of these people before Friday.
You
ought to know.”
“I can’t make any sense out of it.” She rubbed oil on her brown arms.
“Mrs. Veering feels we are all in terrible danger.”
Allie smiled wanly. “I’m afraid Rose always feels she’s in great danger, especially when she’s been drinking.”
“She seemed quite sober this morning.”
“You never can tell. I wouldn’t take anything she says too seriously. It’s all part of her own private madness.”
“On the other hand that knock on the head I got this morning was not just one of her hallucinations.”
“No, that’s more serious. Even so I can’t really believe anybody killed Mildred … not one of us, that is. This is the sort of thing which is supposed to happen to other people.”
“What do
you
think happened?” I looked at her innocently:I had to pump these people, one by one. The best approach was bewildered stupidity.
“I believe what Paul says.”
This was news; I hadn’t known that Brexton had expressed himself yet on the murder, except perhaps to the police. “What does he say?”
“That Mildred was in the habit of taking sleeping pills at all hours of the day, to calm her nerves. That the ones she took the morning she died were a standard dose for her and that she went in swimming not realizing how tough the undertow was.”
“Well, it sounds sensible.”
“Except that my brother had a bottle of the same type pills.…”
“You don’t mean they suspect him?”
She shook her head, her face grim. “No, I don’t think they do. He had no motive and even if he did there’s no proof the pills came from him. Their idea seems to be that somebody might have had access to his bathroom who didn’t have access to Mildred’s pills which were kept locked in her jewel box: she was the only one who knew the combination. Brexton swears
he
never knew it and couldn’t have got the thing open if he wanted to.”
“So either she got the pills herself or somebody went into your brother’s bathroom and got some to put in her coffee or whatever it was she took them in?”
“That’s the general line. If you hadn’t been attacked last night, I’d have thought Mildred took the pills herself. Now I’m not sure.”
“It looks like my adventure may have started the whole thing rolling.”
She nodded. “I thought that awful little man Graves, or whatever his name is, was just trying to scare us, to get himself attention. I still don’t think he has the vaguest idea whether or not a murder was
awful
tabloids it’ll be to my advantage to have you here in the house, a gentleman.” Her realism always surprised me.
“I was afraid you might be upset.”
“Not at all, but I’d like to see what you write from time to time. I may be able to help you.”
“That’d be awfully nice of you.”
“Not at all.”
“
Was
your niece murdered?” I asked suddenly, trying to catch her off guard.
“You’ll get no help from me there.” And that was the end of that interview: I left her for the beach and the sun.
I found only Allie Claypoole on the beach.
She was lying on her back in a two-piece red bathing suit which was exciting to contemplate: I found her most attractive and if it hadn’t been for my fling with Liz the night before and the peculiar discovery that despite a lifetime devoted to philandering, I was unexpectedly held to the idea of Liz and didn’t want anybody else, not even the slender Allie who looked up at me with a smile and said, “Recovered?”
I sat down beside her on the sand. The sun was soothing. The sea sparkled. Just twenty-four hours ago it had happened. “I feel much better. Where’s everybody?”
“Miss Lung has gone inside to write this week’s ‘Book-Chat’ while my brother’s in town. Brexton’s in his room still. What on earth is going on?”
I gestured helplessly. “I haven’t any idea. I never saw any of these people before Friday.
You
ought to know.”
“I can’t make any sense out of it.” She rubbed oil on her brown arms.
“Mrs. Veering feels we are all in terrible danger.”
Allie smiled wanly. “I’m afraid Rose always feels she’s in great danger, especially when she’s been drinking.”
“She seemed quite sober this morning.”
“You never can tell. I wouldn’t take anything she says too seriously. It’s all part of her own private madness.”
“On the other hand that knock on the head I got this morning was not just one of her hallucinations.”
“No, that’s more serious. Even so I can’t really believe anybody killed Mildred … not one of us, that is. This is the sort of thing which is supposed to happen to other people.”
“What do
you
think happened?” I looked at her innocently:I had to pump these people, one by one. The best approach was bewildered stupidity.
“I believe what Paul says.”
This was news; I hadn’t known that Brexton had expressed himself yet on the murder, except perhaps to the police. “What does he say?”
“That Mildred was in the habit of taking sleeping pills at all hours of the day, to calm her nerves. That the ones she took the morning she died were a standard dose for her and that she went in swimming not realizing how tough the undertow was.”
“Well, it sounds sensible.”
“Except that my brother had a bottle of the same type pills.…”
“You don’t mean they suspect him?”
She shook her head, her face grim. “No, I don’t think they do. He had no motive and even if he did there’s no proof the pills came from him. Their idea seems to be that somebody might have had access to his bathroom who didn’t have access to Mildred’s pills which were kept locked in her jewel box: she was the only one who knew the combination. Brexton swears
he
never knew it and couldn’t have got the thing open if he wanted to.”
“So either she got the pills herself or somebody went into your brother’s bathroom and got some to put in her coffee or whatever it was she took them in?”
“That’s the general line. If you hadn’t been attacked last night, I’d have thought Mildred took the pills herself. Now I’m not sure.”
“It looks like my adventure may have started the whole thing rolling.”
She nodded. “I thought that awful little man Graves, or whatever his name is, was just trying to scare us, to get himself attention. I still don’t think he has the vaguest idea whether or not a murder was
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